“It’s strange.”He reached for a hand pie with flaky golden crust.
“Strange how?”she pressed.
Bastion described the weapon, giving a rough estimate of its length and material and detailing the open-mouthed wolf head.Then, he shook his head.“I’ve never seen anything like it.Have you?”
Nesrin sat back and turned to her cousin.Still at the mantle, Lawrence stroked his chin with his knuckle, staring into the fire.He furrowed his brow thoughtfully.
“It reminds me of something, but I can’t quite catch the thought.”His voice hummed just above a whisper.
“Haddrick thought it was important,” Bastion said.Regret lanced through him like ice water to his lungs.
“Haddrick?”Nesrin asked.
“Rowan’s father,” Bastion clarified.“I believe Buck took him and Rowan captive and used the boy as leverage to force Haddrick to act as a healer.He’s the reason we escaped, the reason I’m even alive after what Buck did to me.”
A heavy silence settled over the room, like a new snow.It rattled his nerves and Bastion’s eyes darted between Nesrin and Lawrence.
“What did he do to you?”Lawrence asked.
Bastion’s eyes shuttered.He should have expected this question.
“He tortured me,” he rasped.Nesrin’s shoulders rose as she tensed.Her eyes ran over his limbs, assessing his well-being with new alarm, no doubt checking for missing appendages.“Haddrick and Rowan freed us and Ulla healed me.”
An expectant silence stretched between them, but he didn’t say more.The details could wait until he’d put more time and distance between himself andThe Basilisk.Thinking of the ship sent a terrifying finger of‘what if’scraping down his back like a naked blade, but he’d take what they did to him a thousand times over if it kept Ulla safe.
“We need to question the boy.”Nesrin looked towards the door as if she meant to summon him now.
“Not tonight,” Lawrence said.“There’s time yet.If I’m not mistaken, your friend hasn’t slept in… how long?”
Bastion stared at him, the question taking time to register.Then he looked at the hand pie he still held, completely uneaten.
“I don’t know how long it’s been since I last slept.Or ate.”
He shoved the whole pastry into his mouth.Even cold, it was wonderful.Tender, savory chicken with herbed butter and leeks sent a wave of comfort through him.He reached for a silver pitcher and drank straight from it, relishing the taste of clean water washing away the salt in his mouth.Neither Nesrin nor Lawrence stopped him.When he’d drunk his fill, he stood, reaching for another hand pie.
“I’ll show you to your room,” Lawrence said.He set the tiny glass on the mantle and moved towards the door.
Bastion nodded and wrapped the pendant back up before stowing it in his saddlebags.Then, he rose and followed Lawrence into the dimly lit hall.
Neither of them spoke as they walked.Bastion finished his second pastry and turned all his remaining energy to staying upright until he could reach a relatively soft surface to collapse onto.
Minato met them as they turned a corner.
“Ah, there you are,” he said, affection lacing his words.Lawrence’s eyes lit up.
“Are the lady and the youngling settled?”
“Yes,” Minato said.“I suspect they will both sleep half the day away.Ulla performed someextremehealing magic.No wonder you carried her in.”
Despite his fatigue, Bastion caught the barb.They stared at each other for a moment before Minato broke the silence.
“Lawrence, you have that look in your eye like you want to go to the library.I can show Bastion to his room.”
A dimpled smile flashed across Lawrence’s face.“Thank you, darling.”
He strolled away, and Bastion had the sense of a trap closing.Minato gestured down the opposite hall with the practiced calm of a butcher.
They passed window after window, each one splattering with softening rain.Minato led him up a wide staircase lined with torches to a floor that felt more lived in–warmer, closer.They came to a stop beside a heavy walnut door.
