“No,” I say.
His gaze cuts to mine. “No?”
“If Maltherion hits me, he won’t warn you either. We test ugly, or we lie to ourselves.”
Corin makes another mark. “She’s right.”
“I am aware.”
“You hate that.”
“I am adapting.”
I reset my breath, using Corin’s count until the rhythm steadies again. Then we move to stress.
Corin takes his position near the pantry door. “You sure?”
“No,” I say. “Do it anyway.”
“Comforting.”
I close my eyes and begin the count in my own head. Inhale for four. Hold for six. Exhale for eight. The chalk circle holds close around my feet. Rhazek’s presence anchors the far side of the room. Corin moves quietly, too quietly for a man who used to trip over every loose board in the house before breakfast.
The pantry door slams.
The sound cracks through the kitchen.
My body reacts before thought can interfere. My shoulders jerk, my heart hammers once hard enough to bruise, and cold adrenaline flashes under my skin. Rhazek’s form wavers, red light flickering along his outline, but he does not collapse and he does not flash across the room.
I force air into my lungs.
“One, two, three, four,” I say through my teeth.
Corin’s voice joins mine immediately. “Hold. One, two, three, four, five, six.”
The pulse surge crests.
It does not own me.
I exhale slowly, shaking but upright.
Rhazek’s form steadies.
Corin scratches a line on the wall. “Improved.”
I open my eyes and look at Rhazek. “You held.”
“Yes.”
“So did I.”
His gaze remains fixed on me, and his voice lowers slightly. “Yes.”
There is too much in that one word, so I turn away before it finds a place in me I cannot defend.
I spread the infernal texts across the floor after breakfast, though breakfast itself is mostly tea gone cold and bread chewed without anyone tasting it. Counter-ritual diagrams overlap with severance glyphs, siphon interference patterns, and three badlycopied illustrations that look less like magical theory and more like some poor scholar lost a fight with a spider.
Corin kneels beside me, reading over my shoulder with the charcoal still tucked behind one ear. “This one looks like a heart with hooks in it.”
