“Reeve’s in the northern wing, past the sculpture garden,” said Mely.
“The sculpture garden?”
Mely turned back towards her. “Oh, you haven’t been? You must go, truly. Quite lovely.” Her voice was light and kind, despite the way she looked like she’d pass out at any second. “Follow the carvings in the crystal walls.” She pointed up.
Maeve looked up as Eryx’s annoyed call for Mely carried down the hall. Sure enough, beautiful carvings of directions sat high on the crystal walls. Maeve looked back at Mely.
“Thank you,” she said.
Mely nodded, already chasing after Eryx. “Gods, you’re in a foul mood!” hissed Mely as they disappeared.
Maeve followed the arrows, pointing up a long staircase, and passed the sculpture garden, just as Mely said. It extended farther than she had imagined, wrapping out of sight. Maeve continued for far too long down the open-air halls until she reached another large carving, high on the walls: NORTHERN WING.
Another wrapping staircase, and she felt him. The thread of Magic that connected them thrummed in warm delight as she approached the partially opened door at the end of the corridor.
Maeve rapped her knuckles against the smooth white door.
A sound of approval came from the other side. She pushed open the door. Despite its monumental and solid stone build, it slid gracefully across the floor with little force.
Reeve sat in a large chair by an empty fireplace with letters sprawled across a table before him. In his hand was a single roll of parchment. Maeve remained planted in the doorway. Reeve looked up.
“What’s wrong?” he asked with a partial shrug.
Maeve’s brows pulled together. She gestured behind herself as she said. “We are meant to eat breakfast together.”
Reeve laughed. “Maeve,” he said, amusement in his tone. “It’s after noon.”
Her head whipped to the open windows of his study. It didn’t look like midday.
“But,” she began, cutting her own thought short as she realized her mistake. Less and less sunlight meant the days themselves were changing.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” she asked, looking back at him.
Reeve leaned back in the chair, pure satisfaction radiating from him. “Because you were sleeping so soundly. I couldn’t bring myself to.”
Sleeping soundly with his help.
He tossed the parchment onto the table. “You’ve kept me up for weeks now, and I couldn’t take it any longer.”
Maeve chewed her lip, ignoring the reference to their bond. “Always so gracious.”
Reeve’s brows flicked up in something like agreement. “You should know I placed a new spell on the perimeter of Aterna. One neither Malachite nor that thing can see.” Reeve’s head tilted to the side. “You won’t hear his voice again.”
She inhaled a small, quick breath at the words. They were an unwelcome relief. She’d never imagined feeling grateful to stop hearing Mal’s voice.
She’d never imagined any of this.
Reeve’s eyes didn’t leave hers.
Long moments of silence passed between them.
“I will help you on Heims,” said Maeve. “But I’ll need new shoes.”
“What? Can’t go traipsing through the winter woods on Heims in those lovely slingbacks?” he teased, bringing his tongue to the tip of one of his canines.
The act made her stomach tighten.
The corners of Maeve’s mouth turned up ever so slightly. Reeve loosed a hefty breath. She forced her lips down into a frown, but Reeve’s smile only widened.
