"Then why aren't the wards working?" Conall asks, voice still a little rough.
"Because the spell didn't complete, and I think I know why." He flips the page and points to a line written in a language I wouldn't know how to decipher if my life depended on it, which is fine because he's willing to tell me. "It's a two-part spell. One person starts it, then another of the same family line finishes it."
Laz looks at me. I look back at him like a deer in headlights.
"No," Conall snaps, making me jump. His thumb ghosts over my knuckles in what feels like a silent apology. "She's not giving her life to finish some ritual, Laz. Are you really asking that right now?"
Laz leans against the desk, arms crossed, blue eyes sharp. "No, I'm not, and I'm insulted that you think I'm going to ask some mortal child to kill herself."
Anger flares up in me. "I’m thirty. Not a child. And if you’re talking about using my blood for a spell, I need to be part of that conversation." I pull my hand out of Conall’s. His hand lingers for a second, like he can’t believe mine is gone, then drops. Both of them look at me.
Laz inclines his head. "I'm two hundred, so forgive me if thirty feels young. And I apologize. You should absolutely be the main voice in this conversation."
Conall drops into the chair behind the desk, eyes locked on my face.
"The spell has two possible paths," Laz says. "The first finishes the wards with the new rules. The second reverses the spell and puts the wards back as they were." I think about that. Two paths. Before I can respond, Laz keeps talking. "Obviously, we'd like you to reverse the spell."
I look up. His expression is calmer, but his shoulders are still tight. "Why?"
"We don't know what she changed. If you complete the spell, it could do anything."
"Like letting more monsters onto the island?" I ask.
"It could. But we don't know what kind of monsters, or what parameters she set. And that might not be the only thing she changed. We wouldn't know until after you'd already done it. It's too much of a risk."
I exhale. Laz and Conall have lived here their whole lives. Who am I to argue?
"Can I think about it, or does it have to be done now?"
Laz shakes his head. "It can’t be done now. It needs a full moon, and the next one isn’t for two weeks."
I groan. Conall sighs, almost like he’s relieved, but that doesn’t make sense. Fixing the spell would free him from his protection bond to me. He should want this over as soon as possible. So why, when I look at him, is he looking at me with an expression that makes my insides twist and burn?
Outside Laz's, the sun is still high. I need to get to the store. Laz said he'd send word to Amy, magically. Sure enough, he'd pricked his fingertip, said a small incantation, and watched it dissolve into light.
Conall walks next to me, looking even more frustrated than before. The silence between us feels tense and uncomfortable.
After about fifty feet, I can’t stand the suffocating silence anymore. “What?” I demand.
Conall glances at me, shoulders bunched tight near his ears, hands shoved deep into his pockets like he’s trying to keep them restrained. His tail flicks in sharp, restless jerks. “What?” he echoes, voice flat, playing dumb.
“Laz figured out what broke the wards. He knows how to fix them.” The words taste bitter on my tongue. “Fixing them severs your protection bond. Everyone on the island will be safe, and you’ll never have to see me again. So why do you look more angry than when we arrived?”
He stops and turns to face me, crossing his arms over his chest like a shield. For a moment, something raw and desperate shows on his face before he hides it. My breath catches in my throat.
“You think I care more about that than I do about your safety?” His voice is low, rough, and almost angry.
Warmth slides deep in my stomach, mixed with a longing I know I shouldn’t have.
“Youhaveto,” I whisper, “because of the protection spell.”
“Fuck the protection spell, Ivy.” The words rip out of him, sharp and frustrated. He takes a half-step closer before catching himself, jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumps. His green eyes burn into mine, dark with something I can’t name and he won’t admit. “Laz claims this won’t kill you, but Laz lost most of his memories decades ago. He barely knows what he’s doing half the time. He’s been wrong before… and he’ll be wrong again.”
The air between us feels heavy, full of all the things we won’t say. I hate how much I want him to reach for me. I hate that my body leans toward him anyway, drawn by something he keeps pretending isn’t there.
My heart twists painfully. If the protection spell breaks, he’ll finally be free of me. And even though that’s what he wants, I find the thought of it isn't the welcome thing it once was. I swallow hard, trying to ignore the treacherous ache blooming in my chest.
“But you need it to break. That’s what you’ve wanted this whole time.” My voice cracks despite how hard I try to keep it steady. “The spell breaks, the protection oath breaks, you’re free. That’s all you want.”
