Kian managed a weak smile. “I know. But someone has to be the first. And if I can figure it out, then it should be me.” His smile widened, and he nudged Adrissu’s foot under the table. “And besides, I have you. That’s saying a lot. Who knows if I could have even started figuring this out without your help? I have that advantage.”
Adrissu sighed, relenting. He should have known. Kian’s answer was not a surprise, but it still left worry gnawing at his insides.
“I defer to you, of course,” he mumbled, trying to mask the petulance in his voice. Though from the way Kian’s smile twitched, it seemed he was unsuccessful. “Just... Please keep that in mind. If this doesn’t work, I don’t want you trying anythingmoredangerous.”
“I know,” Kian said, smiling fondly over at him, despite everything. “That’s always been my backup plan. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Chapter Ten
TheirexperimentsusingKian’sritual went frustratingly well. Adrissu had expected there to be setbacks, difficulties, some kind of proof that they would need to continue working on the ritual in order to make it work. But their first few tests—turning hens into roosters—had no obvious negative effects on the creatures. They seemed a little disoriented and groggy immediately after the ritual, but showed no signs of pain or discomfort after the first few hours. This heartened Kian, but unsettled Adrissu.
Perhaps it was selfish of him to want the ritual to fail, but nothing could dissuade his conviction that the soul transference would be the most preferable option by far. He could not convince Kian of it directly, but if his ritual proved too difficult, then maybe he would finally,finally,listen to reason. But the human was too talented, too intelligent for his own good—whatever he had learned seemed to work far better than the original ritual Starck had attempted.
Something about the runes left him uncertain, as well, though this was harder to put into words. He could not explainwhyhe doubted it would work beyond his own selfish, personal investment; but every time he looked at the diagram of runes, something itched in the back of his head. Maybe it was just his own selfish desire after all.
Next Kian changed a goat to a sheep, and vice versa. Neither creature seemed especially perturbed to be transformed into a new species entirely, which only frustrated Adrissu further. All evidence so far pointed to the ritual being an unparalleled success, and yet he could never shake the feeling that something was not right.
“Don’t look so glum,” Kian teased, as Adrissu pored over the diagram of the ritual for the hundredth time late one evening, eyes still searching for whatever missing piece his mind seemed so convinced was there. “It’s not a flattering look to be jealous you didn’t come up with it yourself.”
“I am not jealous,” Adrissu replied, giving Kian an indulgent smile, despite his own knot of worry. “You know I’m very proud of what you’ve accomplished. I only want to make sure everything goes entirely according to plan.”
“You’ve spent way too long looking at the same piece of paper,” Kian chided, pulling him to his feet. “Come to bed. You deserve to rest.”
Kian’s body was warm against his, his grin inviting. Adrissu sighed, nodding.
“Perhaps you’re right,” he agreed, allowing Kian to drag him to bed. Not that he needed much convincing.
But the experiments continued to go well, and after a few months, still none of the animals seemed to suffer the ill effects of Starck’s failed ritual. Adrissu could tell Kian wanted to try it on himself next, could practically sense the anticipation buzzing off of his skin, but his stomach knotted with fear every time he thought of it.
“We should try this on another human, to be safe,” Adrissu blurted, when it had been several months since their experiments started, and the small menagerie in his lair was still alive and well. Kian immediately balked, gaping at him for a long moment, before shaking his head in bewilderment.
“Adrissu!” he started in a scolding tone, but Adrissu kept on, bowling over his protests.
“I’ve said it before,” he growled. “I don’t want you to have to be the experiment for this. It isn’t right. It isn’tsafe. This is all well and good—” He gestured to the animals in pens before them. “But there is no guarantee it will affect a human the same way, and if it’s going to have a negative effect on you, you deserve to know ahead of time.”
“But it’s okay for someone else to be the experiment,” Kian said flatly, frowning.
“Yes!” Adrissu hissed, unable to force his frustration down. “Yes, it would be okay. Because none of them matter. It could be anyone. Hell, we could pull someone out of the prison right now to do this—to replace their sentence—and they’d thank us for sparing them however long they had left. So, no, I would have no qualms about doing this to another human. Iwouldhave a problem letting you do this to yourself without knowing—”
“Letme?” Kian snapped, anger flashing across his face. Instantly Adrissu regretted his words, but he had already said them. “I don’t need your permission to do this, Adrissu, so no, you cannotletme do anything.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” Adrissu said, holding up a placating hand and willing his tone to be cool and even. “I only mean—I don’t think I could do this, help you do this, if there was any chance I could hurt you by doing so.”
“Then don’t help me,” Kian said flatly, turning away and tossing the stack of notes that he’d been reviewing onto the table. Not that he could go anywhere here in Adrissu’s lair. He took several steps away, folding his arms across his chest and looking down at his feet with hunched shoulders as he walked. Adrissu watched him for a moment and sighed. How did he always cause the exact opposite of what he wanted?
“Kian,” he said, taking a step closer to the human. “You know I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry.”
Kian huffed again, turning just enough to scowl over his shoulder at Adrissu. “Why is it now that you’re putting up a fuss about all this? Did you think I wouldn’t be able to do it before? Is that really so shocking to you?”
Adrissu hesitated, taken aback at the accusation. It was difficult to parse out his feelings about the situation—while he was impressed and proud of Kian’s accomplishments now,hadhe thought the human’s goal to be unattainable? It had certainly sounded impossible, but he had always believed Kian would figure something out. Hadn’t he?
“I had doubts… that what you wanted might not be possible for anyone,” he started slowly, careful to choose his words now. “But the longer you researched, the more it convinced me that if anyone could accomplish such arduous transmutation, it would be you. No, it isn’t shocking to me that you’re on the verge of accomplishing it. It is only the possibility of you being hurt that’s beginning to feel more... real.”
Kian’s scowl had mostly faded away, replaced with a look of mild irritation tempered with fondness, an expression Adrissu was all too familiar with now. He took in a deep breath, then turned to face Adrissu again.
“I know,” he sighed, scrubbing a hand through his red hair. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to... snap like that at you, either. I guess I just feel, I don’t know, insecure. This is something I’m really excited about, so it really feels like a slap in the face for you to… doubt me like that.”
Adrissu bit back the protest that rose in his throat, instead nodding silently. Kian reached over to take his hands, peering up at him with bright green eyes.
