Large arched windows peppered the outer walls of the bright study, letting in glimpses of the storm brewing just beyond the half-closed curtains. The soft navy and gold fabric of the curtains fluttered slightly with the breeze, light filtering through in muted beams. The pale limestone floor was barely visible beneath heavy navy and gold carpets; their intricate designs faded over time and haphazardly scattered across the room. Piles of books—some stacked precariously, others spilling open with pages curling at the edges as though left mid-thought—littered the floor. The air was thick with the scent of aged paperand leather, mixing with a faint musk of dust. Shelves lined the walls, overflowing with books, scrolls, and loose parchment, creating a maze of knowledge. In the far corner, a rickety desk was half-buried beneath open tomes, ink stains dotting the surface like forgotten memories, while stray bits of parchment clung to its cluttered surface.
I sank into a winged chair surrounded by towering piles of books, sighing heavily as I rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying to dispel the weight of everything pressing down on me.
“I’m sorry. I’m not myself,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I can see that.” Gunnar’s tone was steady as he handed me a cup of tea before settling into a chair opposite me. “This should help, at least for a day or two.”
I drank it in one gulp, the warmth soothing my frayed nerves as I discarded the cup beside me.
Gunnar leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs, sipping his mug as his eyes raked over me with concern. “I can't fix her magic without Morgana,” Gunnar confessed, and my heart sank as my eyes shot to his. “I tried to find another way, but it can’t be done without her.”
A low snarl escaped my lips, and I stood abruptly, sending a pile of books crashing to the floor. I moved to the arched window, gripping its ledge tightly as I stared out, the rain streaking down the panes, blurring the outside from view. We had all known there was little chance of finding a solution without Morgana, but I had clung to hope—foolish hope.
Gunnar cleared his throat, pulling me back to the moment. “But you,”—he paused, his gaze serious—“Once Jaxon and you are ready, I can perform the spell.”
“We are ready.” Jaxon’s voice echoed from the doorway, and I turned to face him. He stepped further into the room, eyeing me warily as he entered.
“It will be painful,” Gunnar sighed, and I nodded, remembering how it felt that night Jaxon had torn my soul from me. “It will depend on how tightly wound your souls have twisted together,” he continued, glancing at Jaxon, an unspoken question hanging in the air between them.
Confusion washed over me, and I stared at the two of them in question. What did he mean by that?
“I made sure not to use his power unless it was absolutely necessary. I only used it a few times when needed and the longest when I opened the realm.”
Understanding crept slowly in. That was why he hadn’t been using it. I thought it was because he was ashamed to do so in front of me.
Gunnar nodded and looked at me. “The more one uses power that isn’t theirs, the more their soul becomes entwined and the harder it is to undo.” His eyes saddened a fraction, and my mind went straight to Zara. Dread filled my veins, and I growled as Gunnar only nodded in confirmation.
Gunnar looked between us and sighed. “You should take the day to rest. We can perform the spell tonight. I just need to ensure everything is in order.”
Jaxon and I nodded in agreement and left the study, stepping into the hall.
“Dedra took Zara for a walk in the village. I figured you needed some space,” Jaxon said. Irritation rose inside me, but it quickly disappeared. The tea was working, and I was much calmer than I had been a few moments ago. I nodded, and Jaxon continued, “We can catch up to them if you're feeling better.” He smirked. “I'm sure they only just got to town.”
I contemplated for a moment, and the thought of Zara’s awe-struck face as she took in a new village solidified my response. “Let's go.”
Chapter 33
Zara
Dedra grinned at me as she caught me for the tenth time. I kept slipping on the smooth limestone path that led down to the village, the rain making it almost impossible to keep my balance. It was a good thing we were going to explore the shops; it seemed I needed new boots.
We zigzagged our way down the cliff and finally reached a cobbled road lined with shops. Villagers glanced our way, giving us cheerful smiles as they passed by quickly, trying to escape the rain. They wore vibrant cerulean blue and bright yellows, their fabric soft and sheer in texture. As was Gunnar's custom, I saw that their hair and clothes were embellished with the same array of gold charms and chains.
Dedra smiled back at them, and I looked at her like I didn’t know her.
She saw my expression and frowned. “What?
“Are you sure you are alright?” I asked, feigning concern.
Dedra’s brow scrunched further. “Of course, why?”
“I think that witch did something to your head; you look happy,” I said, grinning broadly at her.
Dedra laughed, pushing me playfully on the shoulder. “I have been known to have fun once a century,” she joked back, and we laughed together as we walked down the street.
“Well, this is disturbing,” a gruff voice said behind us, and we spun around to find Xavier and Jaxon with bemused looks on their faces. They weren’t wearing cloaks like we were, and the rain made their clothes cling to their bodies in the most torturous way.
“Are they getting along?” Jaxon asked Xavier, eyeing him sidelong, a smirk on his lips.
