He rolled his eyes at himself and the dazzling grin he shot at my reflection made heat spill through my chest. I saw my own dark eyes turn warm and gold in the mirror as I hugged mylegs to my chest and watched him with my chin on my knees, the very picture of complete and utter adoration. And for a moment, mesmerised by Caelan’s slow methodic movements as he dressed, by the magic swirling contentedly around my ribs, I was ready to let the moment slip past without a second thought.
But something within me writhed ominously.
Uncomfortably.
So much so that I shifted, then lay back on the pillows for relief. The feeling didn’t fade, and it took me a moment longer to realise it wasn’t physical. It was intangible, ineffable. Intuition.
When had I told Caelan about the Isles?
My Flame stilled so abruptly that for a moment I could have imagined it had never been there at all. Might have believed it if it weren’t for that vague awareness of the little ember still nestled in Caelan’s chest, the piece of me I always struggled to call back. I called for it now, tentatively, oddly afraid he’d feel the invasion like I was reaching between his ribs. He didn’t glance around, but the ember in his chest called back to me and I closed my eyes to feel for it – only to find it flailing wildly in time with Caelan’s thundering, nervous pulse.
My eyes shot open at the same moment that realisation hit me full in the chest, heavy and dousing as a trough of icewater.
I hadn’t told him.
I had never told Caelan my father was from the Isles. I’d told Madame Bracken – someonepassingfor Madame Bracken. Someone who recognised my magic, and was recognised, in turn, by a Flame so very eager to be seen. Someone with vivid green eyes and a lilting tongue.
I had told the Serpent.
Chapter Fourteen
Serpent Skin
Iwas acres away from my own body as I lay there in the bed and smiled at the murderer who owned half of my soul. My cheeks ached. Inside, my Flame had gone silent, chased into the dark by a fear so all-consuming that it had numbed me from the inside – but that fear was also clarifying. My mind was sharp with it; sharp as a needle, stitching the smallest details together.
His parents, skinned alive in a unique cruelty reserved for those who could shift from one human skin to the next. His childhood as a ward of the King’s state. He hadn’t just escaped from those dungeons; he’d grown up there. And somehow, he’d found his way onto the King’s forces only to join a hunt centered around him – hiding in plain sight.
Frantically I stitched, and piece by piece the tapestry came together, threadbare and moth-eaten but whole enough for me to understand that I had no idea who had been sharing my bed these past few weeks. And all the while Caelan packedup his few scattered belongings and spoke of all the things we would do when he returned. How he would work to help me pullThe Mage and Roseback together. The quiet meals we’d share in the kitchen, and the new bed he’d build to fit us both more comfortably. Not five minutes ago, these little promises of love and companionship would have had me glowing from the inside out, but now, I could not bear for one moment to think of what we might do. I could think only of all thathehad done.
Tanner.
Johnny McAlpine.
Oh gods,Roy.
The bed dipped when Caelan sat to pull on his boots, and with the way my stomach roiled it may as well have been the lurch of a ship. I wanted to turn on my side, coil against the sudden wave of nausea, but I could not trust myself to move. Not when my insides were rearranging themselves through sheer force of will. My heart was calcifying. My ribs were practically creaking with the tension of caging my reactive, unpredictable magic.
He’ll be gone soon.
I told myself I could run the moment he walked out. Run out the back door and cut past him at the next farm over, call for help. Call the Kingsmen back somehow. I told myself that even if he was moving unbearably slowly, he was still leaving – and if it seemed he was delaying the inevitable, it was surely in my head. The Kingsmen were gone. He’d eluded capture. What possible reason could he have –
Movement at the window caught my eye, and I sat up at once, frozen limbs suddenly fluid as the edge of a tall shadow slipped over the ground and disappeared from sight. The bed shifted again, and I turned with my heart hammering to find Caelan on his feet, frowning out the window.
Our eyes met. His brow smoothed too quickly.
“Nick must be finishing up his final checks.”
Nick.
I smiled; a genuine one, relief melting the tension in my face.
I was not alone.
Help was near.
Caelan smiled briefly back, then crossed to where his sword and scabbard hung and strapped them both to his side, skipping his Captain’s armour altogether. Was it my imagination or was he moving faster now, no longer dawdling? He reached for his cloak next, and I knew that my time was fleeting.
Go. Go now.
