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His left fingers brushed against her cheek, and she couldn’t escape the feeling of impending doom. “Things have changed. I might not be able to keep that promise.”
When tears stung her eyes, she pulled him closer until their lips met and the world around them fell away. Each time she kissed Aidric Dawson it stole her breath away, and she was terrified that one day soon it would be their last. Darkness spread, and she was its source.
Their kiss deepened into something more urgent. A desperate plea. Clinging to each other against all odds.
She hadn’t told him she loved him yet, but she hoped he could feel it in the way her lips searched his. And in the storm of their kiss, she made him a silent promise: She would be his last line of defense. She would stand with him when no one else would. Until the bitter end.
Rakkley was gaining strength, assembling an army, and now he was coming for them. But for tonight, she didn’t want to think about what lay ahead.
“We should get something to eat,” she said, even though the last twenty-four hours had stolen her appetite. “My favorite restaurant is a few streets from here.”
He blinked his eyes rapidly. “You want to go and have dinner?”
She shrugged. “Do you have food here?”
“Well, no.”
“Then let’s go.”
They changed into dry clothes, although Aidric didn’t have any trousers that fit her so she kept hers. She was able to swap her wet blouse for one of his shirts and a thick wool coat that was far too big for her.
Reluctantly, he followed her down the narrow streets of Yharvan. A streetcar went by, rattling along the metal tracks, slowing as it reached a group of people waiting by the train stop. A couple ran to make it, laughing breathlessly.
All sounds Mira hadn’t heard since entering the magic sphere. Coin travel was convenient, but it meant people missed out on these simple moments. Walking back home after a dinner date. Boarding a train and watching houses go by.
Aidric kept looking over his shoulder, perhaps expecting Rakkley to appear at any moment. But that was the beauty of the non-magic sphere. There was no coin travel. No magic gates.
“You said it was a few streets away,” he complained after fifteen minutes.
“It might be a bit farther than I remembered. Walking is good for you.”
He looked unconvinced. “It’s inefficient.”
Wandering down the small alleyways of Yharvan had her wondering what they would have been like without the war. Without the trauma. Perhaps they never would have met. But she couldn’t help but imagine a normal life with him. One where they went on dates. Explored other spheres. Talked about their respective jobs over dinner. Not a life that was constantly haunted by death and fear.
When they finally reached the warmth of the tavern, Mira rubbed her hands together, hoping that feeling would return to her numb fingers. The tavern hadn’t changed one bit, but standing next to Dawson, it appeared smaller than she remembered. The heavy wooden beams on the ceiling seemed lower. The tables closer together. She scanned the packed room for an open table and found one, nestled in the corner next to the fireplace. They made their way over, passing the bar, where people laughed and drank beer out of large tin mugs.
“With coin travel, we would have stayed much warmer,” Aidric lamented.
A server passed them with plates of hot stew, and the smell made Mira’s stomach grumble. When they arrived at the table, made from a large wooden barrel, she couldn’t help but laugh. Feared Wielder Aidric Dawson, sitting in a small tavern in Yharvan.
He wasn’t amused. “We can’t even cast a warming spell.”
He held his fingers by the candle on their table. His Shadowflame was still too pale, and it wouldn’t replenish in the non-magic sphere. Another reason why they would have to return to Osterbury tomorrow. But for one night, they could be far away from magic’s wrath.
The group a table down from them noticed Aidric’s hand and the number of signifiers. A rare sight, especially among Yharvians. They quieted and stared at him with resentment. Aidric didn’t seem to care.
“The food is good, I swear,” Mira said when they placed their orders.
He scoffed. “Good enough to be without magic?”
“How can you love magic so much after all it has done to you?” For the life of her, she couldn’t understand it. His body was littered with scars because of magic. He had lost free will to it. Surely a life without magic would be so much simpler.
The candlelight flickered in his blue-gray eyes. A flame in ice. “It wasn’t magic that did this to me. It was people.”
The noise in the tavern had long faded into the background, and there was only him and her. Her eyes fell on her Shadowflame and the three signifiers she now bore.
“Why do you despise yours?” he asked.
