Page 70 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

“Yeah,” Ophelia says.

“We’ll be there,” Dante adds. “And yeah, we’ll be safe here.”

“There’s really no other way?” Grant pipes up from the sofa. He’s watching Ophelia, his brow pinched with concern. “How did you get out of here, you know, when you…”

His eyes dart to me, then away. I do not comment. Oisin looks more concerned than I feel.

“I, uh…” Cassian huffs a laugh, but it does not sound amused. “I tore my way through. Nearly burnt myself out doing it, and you’re the only one with enough power, but I don’t think you’d be able to hold it long enough to get all three of you through.”

Grant’s shoulders slump and he pouts. “Fine. We’ll wait.”

At least Ophelia looks a little better now, apparently charmed by Grant’s eagerness to get her what she wants, and Sam offers more encouragement before they break the spell and the mirror returns to its usual reflective state.

“It’s only a few more hours, I guess,” she says, and Dante nods.

“We can rest up before we go. It’s a bit of a trek.”

Oisin gets to his feet. “Will you require any assistance in having them leave?” he asks me, and Ophelia glares at him.

“No.”

“Then I will retire.” He looks expectantly at Ophelia, who raises her eyebrows in question. “We are returning to our rooms. You need some rest.”

“I need you to break the spell you put on me and I’m going to stay right here, thanks.”

Oisin frowns in confusion. Dante and Grant exchange glances, Grant’s expression vaguely amused.

“I—You—”

“The spell, Oisin.”

His magic flares. I watch carefully because I will be sure he has done as he was instructed, and the spell untangles itself from Ophelia, shivering out of existence.

Some magic remains. A faint, gossamer-thin bond. I avert my gaze. That is not my business, and I do not for a second believe that Ophelia is unaware of it.

“I—You will leave in the morning?”

“Before the suns come up,” she replies. “You heard.”

Oisin shifts from foot to foot. I should feel more sympathy for him, having had some difficulties around my own human, but then I have never held Dante hostage, so they are two entirely different relationships.

“Goodbye then,” he says finally, the words stilted. He bows his head, then strides over to the door and closes it with a little too much force behind him.

Ophelia says nothing. She does not watch him leave, and she does not look at the door once he is gone. She looks at me, though.

“It’s okay that I stay here, isn’t it?”

“You can stay with me!” Grant says. “I mean, if you want. Not like I need to sleep, so you can have the whole bed to yourself.”

Ophelia is watching Dante, and concern is evident on her face. She does not want him to be hurt—emotionally or physically—and I can understand that. But a few more hours together… I am appreciative of Grant’s offer. If they are to be the last we have, I want these hours to treasure with Dante, alone.

“Yeah, I’ll stay with you,” Ophelia says with a smile. Grant grins and leaps to his feet. He snatches up the book Dante was reading when we came in.

“Okay, cool. Come on. I’ll tell you all about how we got here, yeah? We met a fae witch and everything.”

Ophelia squeezes Dante’s hand and gets to her feet. “Come get us when it’s time to go?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you in a few hours,” Dante replies.