Page 52 of Keeper of the Flame: Orrick

“That looks like more than just a scratch.” She reached out and touched his hand, lifting it up to peek under the bandage. “You’re burned as well! You need an ointment on this.”

“I’m not worried about it.” He pulled his hand away. With it went the warmth that had filled him just from her simple touch.

“Let me get some ointments and I’ll meet you up in Orrick’s chamber.”

“Nay, that’s not necessary. I’m going to be sleeping. I’ve been up all night.”

“So it seems you’re not the only one who has been up all night, Sister,” Grace mumbled.

“What do you mean?” Orrick asked her. “Were you two looking for Noah as well?”

“Noah?” asked Hope. “Nay, why would we be?”

“It seems he’s gone missing.”

“We just saw him yesterday,” said Grace, getting a nasty glance from her sister.

“Do you two know where he is? If so, you need to tell me. He might be in a lot of trouble not to mention danger.”

“Trouble?” asked Grace. “What kind of trouble?”

“What kind of danger?” added Hope.

“The boy has stolen the Eternal Flame from m – from Orrick.”

“You think Noah stole it?” asked Grace. She and her sister exchanged guarded glances.

“I don’t think so, I know it’s true. I found his wand in my room yesterday and the Eternal Flame gone.”

“What do you know about the flame?” asked Hope curiously. “Did Orrick tell you it was in his chamber?”

“Aye. Nay. I mean . . . I’m not sure. If you’ll excuse me, ladies, I need some rest. So if you find the boy, alert me right away.”

He turned and headed up the spiral staircase, feeling as if his feet were bricks. He’d forgotten how challenging it felt to be mortal again.

“We’ll do that,” Grace called out, waving at him, no doubt infatuated with him by the way she was smiling and looking at him.

Orrick opened the door to his tower room, stepped inside and closed the door behind him. There were only glowing embers on the hearth since the Eternal Flame was gone. Orrick didn’t bother to light the fire. He was so tired that all he wanted to do was sleep. He crossed the room, pulling off his wet clothes and tossing them on the floor. Clad only in his braies, he plopped down on the bed and lay back, feeling something poking him in the back. He reached behind him and pulled out the wand he’d given Noah.

“Not again,” he mumbled, feeling as if he should have known the boy would end up in here eventually. He must have returned last night while Orrick was out looking for him, and then he headed back down to the kitchen for something to eat. Running a hand over the wooden stick, Orrick’s heart went out to Noah. Perhaps if he had paid the lad more attention, he wouldn’t have run off. He missed the boy and worried for his safety.

“Oh, Noah, where are you?”

“I’m right here,” came a muffled voice from somewhere inside the room.

Orrick sat up in bed and looked around. “Noah?” he called out, swiping his hand through the air to light the fire in the hearth. The room lit up with an orange glow. “Noah, where are you?”

Two little hands came out from under the pallet, in the empty spot under the bed that was concealed by the raised wooden dais. A blond head poked out and Noah slid out to the floor.

“Noah!” cried Orrick, reaching out and pulling the boy into his arms in a big hug. “Where the hell have you been? Lord Corbett and I have been searching everywhere for you.”

“I was scared yesterday and didn’t know where to go. So I returned here and hid, waiting for you.”

“Scared? What frightened you? Was it the storm?” asked Orrick.

The boy bit his lip and shook his head.

“Was it a person who scared you? Tell me who it was so I can punish them.”