“Hanky panky? Is this another fuck word? I did mount Tobias, yes.”
He doubled over in laughter, his arms wrapping around his sides. “Stop, please, just stop. I’m going to piss myself.”
I leaned back into the bench, allowing Cirian a moment to regain his composure. A glimmer of color caught my eye against the dark background, and I recognized the shimmer of thread protruding from Cirian’s chest. It swirled through the air in front of him, the raced off in the opposite direction, disappearing into the wall of shadow that surrounded the sanctuary.
“That’s how we’ll find him.”
Cirian looked up at me, his face still flushed as confusion twisted his features. “What is it?”
The thread faded quickly from my sight, and I pressed a hand against Cirian’s chest.
“The connection. Did you not see it just now?”
He shook his head. “You must forgive me, my mind was elsewhere.”
“With Bastien?” I queried.
A nod was his response.
“That proves it. The connection you have to Bastien will serve as our guide to him. You need only conjure it again.”
“Right,” Cirian agreed, focusing his attention forward towards the wall of shadows opposite us. His eyes narrowed, and he stared at the same spot for a time far longer than I anticipated. But no thread appeared. A moment later, he broke his stare with the distance, swearing under his breath.
“What troubles you?”
“The damn thing pops up whenever it feels, yet when I actually want it to appear—” he slapped a hand over his chest, “Nothing. I don’t know if this is the best course of action, Azrael.”
“I’m not unconvinced. There was something that triggered the thread’s appearance earlier. We need only recreate that moment. Tell me what it was that filled your mind.”
Cirian’s mouth fell open, then shut just as quickly, his words swallowed in a quick gulp.
“Cirian?”
“I don’t remember.”
My brow raised at that. “It was moments ago. Surely you couldn’t have forgotten so quickly.”
Deeper color bloomed under his cheeks as he shook his head once more. “Yes, lost completely. Just let me try again. Perhaps I’m thinking about it too hard.”
It was obvious he was hiding the contents of his thoughts from me, but I could not parse out the reason. Cirian had never struck me as a bashful person. There were few topics off limits in the content of his conversations. In fact, I recalled several hushed exchanges with Tobias that made the flesh on the back of my neck swelter.
What could he be hiding so desperately?
“Damn it,” he muttered, his gaze once more fixed forward and a hand clasped over his chest. “Stupid Bastien and his stupid face. This is his doing. Always making things so complicated.”
“That doesn’t sound like the kind of sentiment that would help in this task.”
“Well, I don’t see you doing any better,” sniped Cirian, his baleful gaze shifting to me. “Why don’t you try it yourself? Tobias wove these blasted threads between the lot of us.”
“I’ve not had one materialize for Bastien,” I answered him, my tone even despite his frustration. “But if you’d like for me to try, then I will do so.”
Cirian deflated with a sigh. “Forgive me, Azrael. That was needlessly cruel. My anger isn’t directed at you. It’s turned inward, I’m afraid.”
I rested a hand atop his knee, applying gentle pressure. “I understand. There’s no need to hide from me, Cirian. You can be honest about the goings-on of your mind. I’ve been told I have a talent for listening.”
He watched me for a moment, a battle raging within the storm of his eyes.
“There is nothing you can say that will make me think any less of you, Cirian. Tobias trusted you with his life. That is enough proof that you are a man of integrity. Speak your mind.”
