Deckard pursed his lips, tapped the bar, and sighed. “Give me a glass,” he said.
“Atta boy!” Rafferty rubbed his hands together, then went to work. “Anyone else care to put in an order? It’s on the house.”
“It’s not, though,” Auden objected.
“I’ll take a glass,” Ilain said, seated next to her brother on the leather bench across from Ethenn.
While others put in their requests and Rafferty gathered their drinks, Deckard began the meeting. “As we have some important decisions to make and a limited amount of time in which to make them,” he said, “I think we should get started. However, there are a couple of announcements to be given first.”
“Announcements?” Thom asked, still seated on Evylin’s other side.
Deckard nodded, thanking Rafferty when he handed him a wine glass. “Yes, perhaps some of you know by now, but congratulations are in order, as Ethenn and Ilain were betrothed this morning.”
A chorus of “congratulations” rang out amongst the group.
“Betrothed, eh?” Brea said, propping her boots on the chair next to her. She eyed Ethenn slyly. “Good luck, kid. She’s gonna burn you alive.”
While Ethenn sucked in a perturbed breath, Ilain sent Brea a fiery glare. “Flames only burn those who mishandle them,” she retorted.
“As I was saying,” Deckard said, redirecting the conversation. “We are, of course, happy for Ethenn and Ilain and wish them all the best.”
“Does this mean you’re Bonding tonight too?” Rafferty asked, delivering Ilain’s glass to her.
“No,” she replied. “We’ll wait until after the establishment of Allund.”
“Why not?” Thom asked. “Wouldn’t it be better for us to have two Bonded couples?”
Ilain took a sip of her wine, glancing at Ethenn before explaining. “While yes, it would give us more strength, the Alliance wants to ensure that should one of us die on our mission, the other will still be eligible for remarriage and Bonding to aid the governmental regime.”
“Huh.” Rafferty hopped up on the counter, turning back to Deckard. “What was the other announcement?”
Deckard opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He tried again. “Well, it appears...” He hesitated. “I met with Lord Obel this morning, and he informed me of not only how to release Hewitt’s ghost but also that...I am not a Night Mage.”
Silence met his statement.
Evylin looked up at him, not understanding.
“Jarrad was right, then?” Isla asked, then sighed. “He’ll never shut up about it.”
Brea snorted.
“What kind of Mage are you?” Ilain asked.
Deckard shuffled his feet, shifting away from Evylin. “It seems,” he said cautiously, “that I’m a Space Mage.”
“Mal’iferno,” Brea cursed, mouth dropping ajar.
Thom’s gaze shifted from her to Deckard and back. “Is that a good thing?” he asked, sounding as confused as Evylin felt.
“It’s not a bad thing,” Brea replied.
Deckard didn’t voice his opinion, making Evylin regard him warily.
“It’s a good thing,” Auden said. “The powers carry with them volatile but also beneficial potential.”
“How did we miss that you’re a Space Mage?” Ilain asked, baffled. “We should have caught it right away.”
“We weren’t exactly looking for it,” Auden replied. “And Obel confirmed that Night is his secondary resource. Beyond that, we were under duress when he accessed his powers most prominently. It’s an easy thing to miss.” He frowned, then added, “Particularly for me.”
