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He crossed his arms and frowned. “Did you misunderstand me? Wasn’t I clear enough for you?”
Irritation heated her cheeks. She would never win a battle of words with him. That much had become clear in the short time she’d known him. “Quite clear,” she conceded. She pressed two fingers to her temple and almost wished to take his advice and slip away to her bed for a nap.
But she couldn’t do that. She had a mess to clean up and goblins to discipline and reform. There would be no time for naps as long as she lived here in Imenborg.
And why did she have the sinking sensation her stay here at Imenborg was only just beginning? The mountain of rock and earth above her pressed in a little harder, and she wondered if would fall at any moment and bury her beneath the weight of worlds.
Chapter 20
Had he not been the son of a king and mindful of his reputation and duties, Jael might have cursed himself with every foul word he could think up.
How had he dragged Anrid even further into his problems? He could still see her pale face masked with a thin veneer of calm to hide the fear lurking beneath. He’d intended to extract her from this mess and send her home, but now he feared that would never be possible. He didn’t know enough about soul bindings, nor about this blasted book his father had sent him to fetch.
It hadn’t been sealed in blood and hidden in the Nameless stacks for no reason.
Stones, he should have consulted Math before he attempted this. A second opinion and more careful planning might have kept this disaster from happening. He knew he should put the book back under lock and key, but he needed to talk to his apprentice first. If anyone knew about the history of this book, Math would.
Books were bread and butter to him.
A weariness unlike anything Jael’d ever known pulled at him as he made his way to the workroom. He hoped he would find Math there, preparing another load of runestones for transport.
If anyone knew about forbidden books, it would be his curious and insatiable apprentice. And as loathe as he was to bring anyone else into this mess, Jael needed help.
He wasn’t fool enough to think otherwise.
The Runemaster of Imenborg was sorely out of his league.
The Bifrost leaned on him, even now when he had full collection of his senses. The magic lurked around the edges of his mind, wrapped around his bones like a second skin. They were one now, in ways he couldn’t fathom. And Anrid...
He paused mid-step and braced a palm against the tunnel wall. Was she there too? He calmed his breathing and searched for her inside himself. It was hard to see beyond his own thoughts, even harder to peer beyond the icy, fluttering presence of the Bifrost. But there, beyond the confusion and the light and the wordless whispers, he sensed her.
A quiet but steady presence in the very back of his mind. When he poured all his concentration into focus, he almost grasped her emotions. She was frustrated, he realized, but that frustration intertwined with deep sorrow.
It made his heart ache.
He pulled himself out of her potent emotions, embarrassed to be meddling in her mind without permission. Such an invasion of privacy was beneath him. She would hate him for spying on her. If the roles were reversed, he would feel violated by the intrusion.
A chill tingled down his spine as he continued on his way. What if this sensing went both ways? Was she privy to his emotions as well? The thought made him uncomfortable.
Like it or not, they were both stuck in this together.
He found Math in the workroom, up to his elbows in half a dozen bags of runestones. The lad folded over the flap on the last bag and secured the buckle with a firm tug. Math’s eyes lifted and watched as Jael stalked toward him.
“I need your help,” he said without preamble. He hated that he sounded pinched and exhausted and tried to force a bit of enthusiasm into his voice. “If you’re done here.”
Math nodded and set the bag on the floor with the other satchels. “This sounds serious,” he said with a quirking smile. “I'm not going to like this, am I?”
Jael scanned the chamber to make sure they were alone before he reached into his hidden pocket and pulled out the Nameless tome. He held it out with both hands, startled to see they were shaking.
Math stared down at the book suspended between them but did not reach to take it. “Is that blood?”
“Yes.”
The lad cupped the back of his neck. “I don’t see a title. Is that from the—”
“Yes.”
Math interlaced both hands behind his neck while he studied the ceiling. He groaned. “I was right: I don’t like this.”
