As the minutes stretched into an hour, the chamber grew increasingly uncomfortable. The humidity had risen to sauna-like levels, causing our clothes to stick to our skin. Zane had given up on his inspection of the barrier and was now sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed in concentration as he attempted to sense any weaknesses in the magical construct.
"No luck?" I looked at him when he finally opened his eyes.
"It's old magic," he shook his head. "Layered and complex. Whoever designed this knew what they were doing."
"So we're back to waiting for rescue," I sighed.
"Or finding another solution," his tone determined. He stood, stretching muscles that had stiffened from sitting. His t-shirt was now damp with sweat, clinging to his torso in a way that made it hard not to stare.
"It's like a sauna in here," he pulled his shirt away from his skin with a grimace. Without warning, he grabbed the hem and pulled it over his head entirely, revealing a lean, muscled torso marked with the scars of his demon-hunting days.
Milo made a small, strangled sound beside me. I glanced over to find him staring openly, his cheeks flushed with more than just heat.
"If you're going to make this a strip search, at least buy me dinner first," Milo quipped, his voice slightly higher than normal.
Zane raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I'm just trying to avoid heat stroke. But if the view's distracting you."
"I've seen muscles before," Milo protested, though his eyes didn't leave Zane's torso. "Jeffrey has excellent biceps for a skeleton."
"I'm sure they're very impressive," Zane's smile turned teasing. "Though probably not as impressive as mine."
"I don't know," Milo crossed his arms, his own smile growing bolder. "Jeffrey can remove his arms entirely. Can you do that?"
"Thankfully, no," Zane laughed. "But I've got other talents that make up for it."
The tension in the chamber shifted, no longer just about our precarious situation. I watched the exchange with growing fascination, the heat in my cheeks having nothing to do with the rising temperature.
"You want to cop a feel?" Zane offered, flexing playfully. "Strictly for warmth, of course."
Milo's eyes widened, his blush deepening. "I... that's... I mean..."
"You good over there, Shortstack?" Zane turned to me, his mismatched eyes dancing with mischief.
I smirked, unable to resist. "I'll be better when someone actually makes out in front of me."
Zane laughed, the sound rich and warm in the enclosed space. Even Horrace seemed amused, making a musical trill that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
The banter had broken some of the tension, giving us a momentary respite from our dire circumstances. But reality quickly reasserted itself as the ward pulsed, contracting slightly. The chamber shuddered, dust raining down from the ceiling.
"We need to find a way out," Zane's expression turned serious again. "There has to be a weakness in the magical structure."
"Maybe we're overthinking this," Milo suggested, his face still flushed. "What if we combine our abilities? My necromantic energy, Winter's prophetic power, and your fae magic?"
"It's worth a try," I agreed, looking down at the blue markings on my arm. They had been pulsing steadily since we entered the chamber, responding to the magical energies around us. "How would we do it?"
"Focus on a single point," Milo theorized, moving to examine the barrier more closely. "If we all direct our energy at the same spot, we might be able to create a temporary breach."
"Or we might cause a magical backlash that knocks us all unconscious," Zane pointed out.
"Always the optimist," I teased.
"Realist," he corrected with a half-smile. "But I'm out of better ideas, so let's try it."
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Winter
