Page 75 of The Alchemists

“Yes, well.” He pursed his lips. She finished her sample in a single gulp. “You’re unhinged.”

He pressed his knee between hers underneath the table. She pressed back. Lily almost never drank, and the wine rushed to her head, making her silly and pliable. The stone tasting room, which had felt drafty when they’d first gotten there, now felt warm and stuffy.

“There’s no way it isn’t. Everything keeps leading us to them.” He paused, staring thoughtfully into a middle distance. “Everything keeps leading to the Conjunctio. That letter, this clue.”

“‘The rouge, the blanc, shall be refined,’” Lily quoted. “Red king, white queen.”

“Exactly. When you’re ready, head to the bathroom. I’ll follow in a few and we can get started there.”

Lily finished her wine. “It’s a date.”

SEB

He waited, half-listening to the indie acoustic muttering in the background while scanning the parking lot for familiar cars. Slowly, he finished the charcuterie and his wine before following Lily to the bathroom when the bartender went into the back. The bathroom was dim in the late afternoon. The only natural light filtered in from a narrow window high up on the curved silo wall.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Lily smirked, locking the door behind him.

He watched her cast the illusion, the blunt cut of her hair obscuring her face, and he had to stop himself from reaching out to tuck it behind her ear. Her brow was set but not tense, breath even. Magic flared, ropey and golden, between her palms, and when she reached out for his hand to draw him into the spell, it snaked up his arm like a first-degree burn.

“Okay,” she exhaled, nodding. She wasn’t even breathing hard.

“How did you do that?” He stared.

“You don’t know that spell?”

“No, I know it. I mean how are you…fine?”

“Oh.” She bit her lip and slumped against the sink, tucking her hair behind her ear. “That.”

“Yes,” Seb agreed. “That.”

She looked at him for a very long time, and he looked back. She was trying to see every part of him, measure him up.

“I’m not supposed to tell you.” He opened his mouth to speak. “If I told you, you’d be bound by this.” She tapped the invisible mark that lived on both their fingers, the same one her mother no longer had. “To tell the Tribunal. To report the treason.”

He stared.

“Lily, I wouldn’t…”

“I know you wouldn’t. Not right now. But what if things change, Seb? What if you get sick of slumming it with me?”

Her words were a blow. “Is that what you think this is for me?” He fought to keep his voice even. “Slumming it?”

“No,” she said, seeing that she’d cut him without meaning to. “It’s just…if the Tribunal knew, they would kill my mom.” When he finally got the courage to look at her, she was a thousand miles away. “They already killed my dad, Sebastian.” Her voice was softer than the cobwebs growing in a high corner.

His hands were already moving before she understood.

“What are you⁠—”

“Binding oath. I won’t be able to tell, not unless you break it first.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re serious?”

“About you? Yes.” He began to cast, pricked his finger with the heavy-duty pocketknife he’d brought, then handed it to her. Dumbly, she took it and he finished the spell. When it was done, his head felt heavy and itchy, the residual magic washing out his vision. If either of them were lesser Magicians, he’d be worried about the amount of magic they were using before they’d even started their objective.

Lily shook down her sleeves, holding up her wrists so that he could see the fine bands there. They flared with Æther.

“This is my mom’s magic. Almost all of it that she had.” She tugged her sleeves back down and folded her arms across her chest. “She knew. What they were going to do to her for breaking the Covenant. When they killed my dad, she channeled her magic into these, binding them to her blood, to me. I’ve had them ever since I was born.”