Page 51 of The Seeker

“I sensed as much when she said there had been no horses here in an age.” I pumped some water into the sink, using it to wash my face and neck, eyeing the large wooden tub.

“I’m honestly not sure why they even built a barn—these trails are tough for even the most sure-footed horses.” He shook his head and I struggled to picture a horse on the trails we’d been traversing. “There used to be more foot traffic through here.”

I raised my eyebrows as I dried my face with the folded towel, my curiosity prevailing. “What happened?”

“The King developed a new roadway that went around the mountains. People now have the option to skip the several days of hiking if they wish to journey to Shianp from Heimland.”

I dropped the towel with a huff. “And we are going this way . . . why?” I grumbled, exiting the bathroom to find Otho sitting on the bed.

His face was apologetic. “Well, for one, you’d already started on this path before we found you, so it felt weird to turn back and go around, even if it might have saved us a day or two. And two, I wanted to see if this place was still here.”

I frowned. I thought Salheim had been Otho’s childhood home, but the way he spoke about this village . . .

“Hey, come here.” His voice was different as he beckoned me over, softer than I’d heard in weeks, and it effectively interrupted my thoughts.

I walked over to him, wrapping my hands around his neck. With me standing, and him sitting on the bed, it was easy to pull him into my chest, allowing him to rest his head on my breasts.

We stood like that, soaking each other in, both of us just breathing.

“I’m sorry again, Runa. You’re right; I never should have trusted Ryle. I just . . . I feel lost without you. I fought these feelings for as long as I could, but I can’t fight them anymore. And…and I know you’re not ready to talk about what happened in Malheim but…” He artfully skipped Leif’s name. “If you ever feel you are…I’m here.” Otho’s frown lessened for the first time in days before he tightened his hold on me.

Too late, I realized what a mistake I’d made, as his ear pressed into the vials, causing them to clatter against one another in their hiding spot.

He pulled back, eyes wide. He must’ve found something in my expression because his mood instantly soured. “What in Hel’s name is in your shirt?”

I grimaced at the name of the underworld, trying to figure out a way out of this situation. But as the second droned on, I realized I didn’t have a choice, and I pulled the vials from my brassiere one by one. It was time to explain.

“Before the attack on Malheim, I read a book of Hansen’s that I’ve read before.” I’d been sitting on this secret for so long that my voice vibrated as I confessed.

Otho cocked an eyebrow.

“I severed my connection with it the first time, but then . . .” Collum’s face flashed behind my eyes. “Collum mentioned it might be a mind-reading book⁠—”

He jumped to a standing position—always a step ahead of me. “You can read my mind!?”

I raised my hand, trying to calm him. “If I don’t take what’s in these vials and can’t maintain my mental shield, yes. But I can’t control the power well and when there are too many people around, I can’t discern which thoughts come from which people, so I take this to keep my powers subdued. It’s why you couldn’t always⁠—”

“Feel your location.” His eyes were fixed on the vials. “What is it?”

“Belladonna,” I breathed.

His anger flared, and he snatched the vials from my hands, stomping to the window, his large hand encircling the latch.

“Otho! Wait!” I begged, grabbing onto one of his biceps. “It won’t kill me; I’m keeping the dose low. Without it, I won’t be functional . . . This power is . . . really strong. It has made the Seid who read it in the past go crazy.”

His hand paused. “Can’t you sever it like you did before?”

I struggled to swallow. “I think I need this power, Otho. I have a feeling . . .” It was the first time I mentioned the odd sensations of certainty I often felt since my bonding to Leif out loud. But the moment I did, I was glad, as it made it more real.

He slammed his fist against the window frame, and I jumped. “No one needs magic, Runa.” His voice was low, and I could feel his anguish.

My head dropped, my gaze fixing on the pattern in the wood on the floor. “You don’t know that, Otho. You said so yourself: you don’t know what’s next for the Seid. Your war . . . your war is done. But ours . . . I think it’s just beginning.” I fidgeted with my fingers, unsure how else to convey to him all the things that had happened to lead me to this moment.

Otho turned from the window, shoving the vials in my hands before stomping toward the door. He pulled it open with more force than necessary before pausing to gaze at me. I didn’t need my gift to know that he was hurt I’d waited this long to tell him.

I opened my mouth to apologize. “I know I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry⁠—”

He slammed the door, leaving me to face the aged wood, the three vials clinking in my hands.