Page 101 of The Seeker

Which is how we ended up with a mill packed to the brim with eager learners. Not only had the Seid families that remained in Ralheim come as promised, but many of the non-Seid families had decided to attend and see what the magic was all about.

Askel lined people up on the floor first, then we moved to standing room only, and there was still a crowd outside of the door. We tried our best to fit everyone, but in the end, we sent several home, promising we would have a larger space next time, and I hoped we weren’t lying.

The lesson went well, though some were annoyed that we were teaching them to read instead of reading the magic to them, especially one young woman who wined as we went over the symbols Askel had scribbled on the wall for the “umpteenth time.”

My eyes flickered to Askel before addressing her snide comment. “As long as the knowledge is limited, it can be controlled,” I explained, fighting to keep the annoyance off my face. “By giving everyone the information, we make it difficult to control and impossible to eliminate. After all, they can’t kill all of us.”

Silence dropped over the room, and I chewed my lip nervously. We hadn’t planned to disclose the next part of our plan so soon, but I knew the people needed to know. “As soon as we have more readers, we plan to work on acquiring more books and creating a library, so everyone can learn whatever magic they want, when they want.”

“But, ma’am . . .” An older man spoke up from the back, and I deduced he wasn’t of Seid heritage. “We heard the books are limited and no one knows where they come from. How can you acquire more?”

“We are still working on the details,” I admitted, “but besides reading, and becoming what the Seid call a ‘reader,’ there is a talent called seeking, and individuals who are seekers can locate more books. It will take a while to do so, but we plan to have lessons for that too.” My gaze found Askel, who winced, likely at the memory of how slow his own learning was progressing.

A thin, blonde-haired woman about my age, seated in the front, raised her hand and I dipped my chin to grant her permission to speak. “Will there be coven meetings soon?”

I smiled, sadly. “The Seid never meant for magic to be a divisor, or something secret. It was always supposed to be knowledge and tools given to all. Covens have only divided us in the past. We want to move forward as one people where everyone is given a voice, not merely the elite few.”

“But what of the Eastwood’s coven, miss? Do they know of this?”

The voice came from the back, and I took a deep breath, fighting to maintain my composure as I explained, “Not yet. We hope to make a connection with them, and that they will agree with our plan. But we have been unable to locate any members of their coven to speak with.” It wasn’t a lie. The only Eastwood’s coven member I knew was Leif, and he was still on the run, or in hiding. “If anyone knows anyone from the Eastwood’s coven, please let me know.”

Again, the room fell silent and I turned back to the wall, back to my teaching, ignoring the disappointment swirling in my stomach. It was a struggle to etch the symbols on the wooden wall with chalk, but as I walked and pointed to each one, it was inspiring to hear them pronounced back to me.

Everyone was learning.

The rest of the meeting went without interruption, though some individuals did grumble when they left without magic, though we did promise they would have some magic soon.

Askel stood next to me, nodding good night to everyone as they exited. “Maybe next time we should read to them, to quell the discontentment.”

“Maybe.” I tilted my head to the side. “But I really want to have an entire generation of readers that can teach their children. And the children after that. If I read them magic one time, some may not come back.”

“I did,” he argued.

I dug my elbow into his side. “We can’t all be the perfect Captain Askel.”

A throat clearing interrupted us. I spun toward the open door, my throat constricting as my gaze drank in the man who stood there. The only man in this world that I longed for even though we didn’t see eye to eye.

Before I could open my mouth to speak, he held a book in my direction. “I . . . I lied before,” he admitted with a sigh. “I burned all but this one. I don’t know why but . . . it called to me.” He kept his gray eyes focused on the packed dirt beneath our boots. “I know I’ve said it a lot, Runa, but I am sorry. For . . . everything.”

I accepted the book, raising an eyebrow at Askel, who was inching along the wall toward the exit.

“So, you’ve decided to cross to my side of the line?”

“I have.” His gray eyes met mine at last and I almost melted at what I saw there. “I still don’t know if the course you’ve chosen is the right one, but . . . it’s a better one than the path I was on.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. “You were right. I was choosing the same path that led to a Purge—that led to my mother’s death. I can’t, in good conscious, pursue that path. It’s time to try something new, even if I don’t see the benefit now, because it doesn’t mean that there isn’t a benefit down the line.”

My hand was on my mouth, and I couldn’t find any words. They’d all escaped me. As had the anger, which had prevented me from forgiving him for his lie of omission. My lungs, which had been constricted since that day in the throne room, finally expanded. I inhaled a deep breath of air, every corner of my body and soul relaxing to the scent of Otho.

I didn’t know what to say, how to tell him what him coming here meant to me.

So, I did the only thing I could think of and placed my hands on either side of his head, pressing my lips to his.

CHAPTER 35

Our kiss quickly morphed into more, and it was a good thing Askel had taken it upon himself to return to Signa’s without me.

But that brought another problem to the forefront of my mind. Askel and I had been sharing the small, one-bedroom cottage, him taking up residence on the couch even though I argued we should take turns with the bed in the only bedroom. Still, he refused, ensuring he was on the couch each night before I could even think to lay out blankets on it for myself.

Otho already knew, or at least he must have assumed, because as my hands drifted down the hard planes of his chest toward his waistband, he covered them with his own. “Come back with me.”