AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Lore waited until the door to their chambers closed behind them before asking the question that was no doubt ringing through the entire Citadel. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?” Bastian seemed completely nonplussed by what had taken place at First Day services. His step was jaunty, his manner relaxed, someone watching a plan fall neatly into place. It was so different from how he’d been last night at the moonlit window, seeming just as lost as she was.
“That trick at the end of prayers,” Lore said, not trying to keep the irritation from her voice. Surely he knew what she was talking about. “The glowing.”
“Oh, that.” He shot her a wicked grin. “Just channeled a little Spiritum on a whim, strengthened my own aura a bit. Wasn’t sure it’d be strong enough for any non-channeler to see, but apparently it was. Left an impression, don’t you think?”
“Seems like a rather frivolous use of magic.”
“Beloved, for us, there’s no such thing.”
The alcove in the corner—the same one where Alie had hosted her tea party—was now set with a sumptuous breakfast, piles of fruit and pastries that two people could never hope to eat. Bastian made a quick line for the table, as if his impromptu magic trick had left him hungry.
He poured a cup of coffee, dosed it with cream, and held it out to her. “Maybe next time you could do something similar. Make yourself look like a walking corpse.”
A joke, but not one she liked. Lore’s lips tightened as she took the proffered cup and went to add sugar before taking a sip. Usually, Bastian knew just how she wanted her coffee, with enough sugar to scrim her teeth, but this morning he’d apparently forgotten. Maybe it was a side effect of all that Spiritum, making him not think before he spoke and forget coffee preferences.
“Come now,” he said, fixing his own cup and flopping into one of the chairs. “I was kidding.”
“So you just wanted to make an impression?” Lore asked, ignoring the halfhearted apology.
“That, and to see if I could do it.” Bastian took a bowl of fruit, sorted out the strawberries from the blueberries, and pushed the latter to her side while keeping the former. At least he remembered which berries she liked. “Anything that shows our friend Jax the extent of our power is a good idea, I think.”
Her appetite was gone, but Lore made herself eat, knowing she’d be starving later if she didn’t. “You should be careful, Bastian. We still don’t know what the consequences of channeling could be.”
Consequences like a voice in her head. Maybe it was just anxiety, a manifestation of all that trauma she buried as deep as the fucking goddess. But it could be more. She’d heard that same voice at the Mortem leak, and it could be more.
He chewed deliberately, swallowed his strawberry. “So we’re on this again.” With a sigh, Bastian sat back in the chair, looked out the window. The view showed the back grounds of the Citadel, the green space between the main structure and the North Sanctuary. If you craned your head to the side, you could just see the glass dome of the vaults, the roses planted on the tops of the crypts reaching for the sun.
Bastian stared at that as his mouth worked, like he was looking for words in the glint of the glass. There was something pained in the way he moved, though every motion was minute—the muscles around his eyes as they closed, the way he reached up and rubbed at his mouth with his fingers, flashing a glimpse of the eclipse carved into his palm.
“I understand your concerns,” he said finally, so quiet it was almost like he was afraid of being overheard, though they were the only people in the whole palatial apartment. “But you don’t have to worry about me, Lore. I know what I’m doing.”
She dropped an uneaten blueberry back into the bowl. “Do you?”
“I know that Anton made it seem like we should be wary of our power,” he said. “But clearly, he was wrong. And we can’t learn about it without using it.”
Her lips twisted to the side. “Maybe we should ask him about it.”
Silence. Bastian’s fingers tapped against the side of his china cup.
Lore nervously ate another blueberry. “He might be one of the only people who can tell us how this is supposed to work.”
“You aren’t wrong.” He leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees. “But I highly doubt Anton is still alive. Even if he is, I don’t know where the Mort keep him.”
“I could ask Gabe,” she said, feeling slightly ashamed for bringing up the Priest Exalted when they’d both been dancing around him so carefully. Maybe she’d feel like that every time she mentioned Gabe in Bastian’s presence from now on, fingers digging into a shared bruise. “He’d know where Anton was kept.”
“If that would make you feel better,” he said with a dismissive wave.
Her hand stretched over the table, rested lightly on his. He didn’t look at her again, but his eyes closed.
“I think,” she said quietly, “that maybe we should give channeling a rest for a few days. For both our sakes. You look exhausted.”
The thought of not channeling was both a relief and a disappointment. She wasn’t sure what answer she hoped for.
“That has less to do with channeling and more to do with the general fuckery of being the Sainted King,” Bastian said. With another spasm of his jaw, his eyes opened, and something in them was subtly changed. A new resolve. Bastian extracted his hand from under hers, not unkindly, but with unmistakable finality. “I’m afraid it’s not an option, beloved. Not now.”
They fell into silence. Bastian put the strawberry back on his plate, uneaten. Lore chased blueberries around her bowl but didn’t pick up another.
