They agree to leave the chapel before activating the location spell. While the disused chapel is safe enough, the runes and shadows still put Leth on edge. He worries his spell will find something far more sinister than the nearest village if he casts it in the chapel.
At the edge of the ruined village, the snow-blanketed forest sweeps up the mountainside ahead of them. Daziroth carries their supplies—what little they came with, and more food they’ve hunted and gathered over the past week.
“I can cast it, if you want,” Evain says. “Save your strength.”
That’s the only thing that’s been annoying Leth this week—Evain constantly offering to cast spells for him. Leth gets it. With the way Evain’s magic works, the past week has given him power to spare. Evain even insisted on setting their wards each night.
Granted, he was right that Leth was too fucked-out and tired to stand up again yesterday. But Leth has always hated feeling useless. “I already prepared the spell. I just need to activate it.”
“All right.” Evain bends to kiss Leth’s cheek before stepping back.
Leth may never get used to the full force of Evain’s attention. He just knows he likes Evain’s flirting much more when it’s directed at him instead of other people. It’s a little embarrassing to realize how much of his distaste for Evain may have been jealousy the entire time.
Shaking his head to clear it, Leth smooths out a patch of snow-softened dirt with his boot. He kneels to trace an array with a gloved finger. Locating magic isn’t one of his specializations, so he can’t cast this on reflex like his combat spells. And he’s not Karis Cooper, or any god-bound mage—he can’t locate a specific person or scry on anything. But all he and Evain need is a rough direction.
“Find for me,” Leth says. The circle of runes flashes silver, mirrored by the flash of the prepared spell bead at the edge of his vision. The light coalesces into a single mote, and streaks away before vanishing.
“Southeast it is,” Evain says, holding out a hand. Leth allows himself to be pulled back to his feet.
His thoughts linger on the ruins as they leave them behind. People lived there once, and now they don’t. Lyrisenia was an empire once, and now it isn’t. “You’d think we would have a better idea of what happened to Lyrisenia. It only fell a couple centuries ago.”
Evain glances over his shoulder. He’s walking a little ahead of Leth, and Daziroth blazes the trail ahead of them both. The massive black stallion occasionally pauses to snort at the snow, tail flagging with excitement.
“Some people would call three hundred years a long time,” Evain says. His long hair hangs in a plait down his back.
Leth recalls the feel of it sliding through his fingers. “My family history goes back further than that. I suppose much of it is more legend than history, but there should still be more records from Lyrisenia. Stories should have been passed down, and enough Lyrisenians moved south to Charain and Praia.”
“The ones who knew the most died.” Evain’s head lifts towards the ice-blue sky. The line of his neck disappears into his coat. There’s a scratch mark under his ear, left by Leth the night before. “The three biggest mage universities were in Lyra.”
Leth shudders. Much of Lyrisenia’s disintegration was slow. People had time to move or adapt. But whatever caused the Lyralan Crater happened in an instant.
“One theory is that the mages were meddling with powers beyond their reach,” Evain continues. “Back then, Lyrisenians didn’t like being dependent on gods. Demonic contracts were considered easier to control. But demonic summoning on that scale may have unforeseen consequences, and Lyra’s universities were known for experimenting. One of the few facts I’m aware of is that a month before the Lyralan explosion, the empire disbanded the universities. And immediately after the explosion, the remaining government attempted to ban all demonic magic.”
They stop behind Daziroth, who wants to inspect another lump in the snow. The trail rises above them, but not too steep and not too high. Leth suspects this was once a road, carved for easy traveling through the mountains.
“Do you think the universities caused the disaster?” Morbid topic aside, Leth enjoys this. Talking theory and history with Evain. Connecting on a level beyond pure lust—though he can’t help watching Evain’s hands and remembering how they felt on his skin. Each gesture is elegant, even through the winter gloves.
“Maybe they did,” Evain says. “Or maybe they didn’t. It could be the universities were trying to prevent the disaster, and the disbandment ruined their efforts. The thing about humans is that however keen they are on destruction, they’re even more dedicated to progress. To fixing things.”
“Like Ronan and Dansa founding the Locksmiths.”
“You too.” Evain nudges his shoulder. “You helped unbind the gods too.”
For a moment, there’s no sound but their footsteps crunching through broken snow. “I did that for selfish reasons. And it didn’t get me what I wanted.”
“Do you regret it?”
Leth didn’t hesitate defending his choices to Anton or Captain Gannet. But when Evain asks, Leth pauses. Evain was in the Locksmiths too. He helped Leth steal the Dravansword and used his dark-burning magic to hold off the Dravan soldiers while they escaped Fort Tarhaeg. Leth owes Evain a complete answer. He owes himself one too.
“I prayed in my family’s chapel the night after the Unbinding,” Leth says eventually. “I asked for power, and Ka Dravos appeared before me. He refused to grant me a contract. He refused to grantanyonea contract. Had I known in advance that I wouldn’t receive Ka Dravos’s blessing, I wouldn’t have betrayed my family.” Despite the cold around him, Leth is warm with movement, and Evain’s presence beside him. “But I don’t regret it now. I’m glad I didn’t know what would happen, and that my false hope led me down that path.”
Silence falls between them. The trail crests under their feet, and dark pines blanket the valley before them. A frozen river winds like a diamond ribbon through the trees.
As their path turns downhill, Evain says, “I’m glad you joined too.” And Leth knows exactly where the conversation is heading even before Evain continues, “If you hadn’t, I never would have known what an incredible ass I was missing…”
“Starting to regret it now,” Leth says, but his heart lightens, and he can’t help grinning in return.
That lightness vanishes when they descend into the valley and reach a campsite tucked in a bend of the frozen river. Only a day’s worth of snow layers over the cleared earth, compared to the higher drifts banked around the area. There’s a latrine dug downwind, and four fire pits dug in the cardinal directions.
