I quickened my steps to catch up to him, pulling my damp shirt away from my skin. The fields were sweltering even though the sunlight was fading. My body burned like I’d sat too close to a campfire.
“You know,” I said, keeping outside of the swinging arc of his cutlass. “We haven’t really talked about what happens when we return home. That house of yours is so big. It has like eight bedrooms, a massive kitchen, and then there’s that library.” I watched as Gavin’s back tensed, the cutlass pausing mid-swing.
He glanced over his shoulder. A strange note thickened his voice. “Library?”
“Yeah. The one with all those adventure novels, and the writing desk positioned perfectly to overlook the sea.
“The one behind the locked door?”
My lips curled softly. “Locked is a very strong word for a treasure hunter. And you did give me a key.” I fiddled with the compass chain around my neck. “Unless you plan to take it back?”
He faced me, the first few stars emerging from the deepening sky behind his back.
“Don’t play games, Marin. You know I built that library for you.”
“I do. That’s when I knew you never betrayed me to the witch. Long before I ever read Reid’s journal.”
Gavin swallowed thickly. “I didn’t build it as proof.”
“I know that too.”
He hesitated, something unspoken hanging between us. “Do you want to return your key?” His tone was quiet, eyes vulnerable as if he still wasn’t sure where he stood in my life.
“No. I plan to keep it. How else am I going to live there with you?”
Gavin exhaled a jagged breath, vulnerability snapping into relief as his fingers circled my wrist and he tugged me against him. “Good. That house is way too big for one person. And I want to see you in that library. Every day.”
“Only if you stand outside the window with a hammer.”
He laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead, but he pulled away and frowned. “You’re warm, Mare.” The back of his hand flattened against my cheek. “Feverish.”
“It’s the fields, isn’t it? It’s not just me.” A wave of dizziness blurred my vision, and I swallowed against the strange metallic taste in my mouth. “This isn’t the same as before.”
“No. It’s not the fields. It’s cold here.” His brow creased. “We’re close to town. Maybe an hour, two tops. Do you need me to—”
I rolled my eyes. “If you say ‘carry you,’ I’m taking that cutlass and hacking through this field myself. I’m fine. I can breathe fine.”
And I could. A little shallow, maybe, but nothing like that terrifying moment in the cabin. This was deeper. Like a fire consuming me from the inside out. Like a thirst I couldn’tquench with the water inside my flask. I licked my lips, half-expecting to taste salt.
“Let’s keep moving. It’s getting dark, and if there are any beasties living in these fields, I bet they come out at night.” I made the joke, brushing past him as my knees wobbled. Fire licked up my back, sweat beading on my temple.
This was so strange. I needed water. My fingers fumbled around the cap on my flask. Cool liquid slid past my throat, but it didn’t help. It wasn’t right. I needed…
I staggered a step, the word slipping past my lips as the ground tilted.
“Salt.”
Gavin lunged for me as I collapsed into the tall grass.
There was a roaring in my ears like the sound of ocean waves. It drowned everything else out, except for the fire. Why couldn’t it stop the heat? A whimper burned in my throat as a deep voice fought against the waves.
Hands lifted me. Or was I sinking? Drowning again?
I tried to speak, but my tongue felt heavy, my lips too dry. The world blurred, stars melting into darkness.
“Stay with me, Mare—” The words were muffled and warped, swallowed by the waves.
Then, nothing.
