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Luther hung around the cave for an abnormally long time, much to my displeasure. Emilie’s patience grew thinner with every passing minute. She practically threw books onto the shelves between throwing menacing glances at the guard.
I couldn’t figure out what he was looking for. He kept circling the exterior of the room, weaving in and out of aisles. Emilie and I had made a lot of progress and the first floor was now almost entirely put together, leaving us to tackle the second level.
“Where are you going?” Luther asked when I began to ascend the stairs.
I pointed nonchalantly. “To the next level.”
He humphed, but seemed to realize there was little left to do on the first floor. Emilie quickly followed behind, dodging into the first row of books and pulling me in with her.
“Oy, what’s wrong with you?”
She peered over my shoulder and then whispered, “Will he ever leave? Gods, it’s like he’s breathing down our necks.”
“I didn’t think it was that bad.”
“He won’t stop looking at me. It’s creeping me out.”
I stiffened. I didn’t like that he was making her so uncomfortable. “Do you want me to threaten him?”
“No…what? No, that’s unnecessary. Oh, I think he’s leaving now.” She wiped the hair out of her face and visibly relaxed.
The first thing she did when we were left alone was practically sprint to the hidden doorway to the tunnels. I sped walked to catch up with her.
“I didn’t realize you had such an affinity for cardio, princess.” My voice cracked and I immediately second guessed my choice of words. All the usual taunting and teasing we’d done before seemed out of place now. It felt wrong, somehow. Like there was a forbidden undertone that I needed to keep to myself, lest she see right through me. I cleared my throat, but she didn’t seem to notice anything strange.
I watched while she traced the runes with her fingers.
“Magic is key. Here,” she said. “Try to use your magic here.”
Inching closer, I flattened my palm against the wall. I felt utterly silly. Emilie had been studying the runes in one of her books every night, but according to her, the instructions for opening the door were lacking. Magic is the key, it said, but it didn’t explain beyond that.
I pressed against the wall, concentrating on the space between my hand and the stone. Focusing all my power on where the surfaces met. I sent a tremor through the stone, hoping something would echo back to me. Some sign of what I needed to do. But nothing came.
I shook my head, and Emilie frowned. She was determined, though. “What if you try to siphon?”
I’d never siphoned in this manner before. Wasn’t sure it’d even work like this. For all I knew, the door held no magic of its own. Magic was the key, but was the door magic?
Before, I had exhaled power. Now I inhaled it. I pulled at the magic like a cord, tendrils expelling from my mind and reaching toward the unknown. Like searching for a light in the dark. I searched in every crevice, every crack in the stone, but came back empty-handed.
Again, I shook my head, feeling the weight of Emilie’s disappointment.
“It’s okay,” she said. “We’ll keep trying.”
I was surprised when she reached out to hold my hand. She moved with such certainty. There was no hesitation. She wasn’t struggling with the same inner turmoil that I was, it seemed. I couldn’t shake that night from my mind. Did she even think about it all?
She held my gaze while running her fingers over my wrist, and I flinched. Not because I didn’t enjoy her touch. Because I did enjoy it.
“What are you doing?”
She shrugged, eyeing me curiously. “How does it work? Siphoning?”
“I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like inhaling, but with your whole body. I can sense the magic like a physical touch, and I…absorb it. I feel it in my veins and it becomes my own.”
“When did you find out you could siphon?” she asked, still tracing the vines on my skin.
I huffed a laugh. “When I was a kid. My brother and I”—I briefly paused, waiting for her to react at the mention of Cyrus, but she showed no emotion aside from the devoted attention to my story—“we were goofing around during a summit. All of the highest nobility around the kingdom had come to Renoa to discuss various political matters. My mother wanted us out of the castle, out of the way, so we wouldn’t embarrass our father.”
I smiled, recalling the way she’d shooed us out into the gardens. “We went into town, to this little gelato shop that Cyrus used to love. His favorite was caramel. He’d done something to piss me off that day—I don’t even remember what—but I was desperate to get back at him. So I took the last of the caramel gelato. He was so pissed.
