Page 99 of The Seeker

I reached out a hand, pressing it to her shoulder, glad she was hunched over doing the laundry so I could reach. I wished I knew what to say, wished I’d taken the chance to get to know Astrid better before, but I would have to return another time for that. I was in a rush today. “Is Otho here?”

“So, this isn’t a social call.” A small flicker of amusement reached my empathy magic as she continued hanging dripping clothing on the line. “Unfortunately, you just missed him. He left for the market.”

Hope flickered in my chest. This would be easier than I thought. “I came for something . . . from my old room. I’ll go get it, and then we can talk more.” I hoped it was the truth and that I wouldn’t have to rush back to the market.

Astrid nodded, focusing back on the laundry as I navigated the halls I’d fought so hard to forget. Though it felt like ages since I’d been tormented here, it also somehow felt like only a fortnight had passed. Everything had changed, but I was still in the same place.

The room where I’d lived while I’d been here was relatively untouched, though it had been cleaned, fresh sheets folded on top of the cot I’d shared with Collum. Well, tried to share. I spent more nights sleeping on the floor.

The misplaced feelings of nostalgia evaporated as I moved everything aside, digging my nails into the dirt around the loose brick. How Collum hadn’t noticed this during her time here without me was baffling, but I didn’t question it as the brick finally landed in my hand, the space between my nails and skin black with grout.

The book wasn’t in the best condition after spending months pressed into a small space behind a brick, but I hoped it would still be possible to read it in its bent shape.

“Ah, no wonder Astrid tried to convince me to turn around and return to the market.”

The brick fell from my hand, cracking as it came in contact with the stone floor. I winced at the sudden sound.

“I should have known you were hiding things, even back then.” His voice was deep, almost sorrowful, but not judgmental.

Inhaling, I spun to face Otho, his tall form leaning against the doorway. Unrepressed, the magic in me begged me to go to him, to press myself against him, but I resisted. Instead, I brushed off the dusty black cover on the book, brushing my finger along the delicate gold engraving before shoving it down the front of my bodice. It was a tight fit, but I didn’t want him trying to snatch it from my hands. “It’s mine.” I forced my voice to sound as emotionless as possible. “I brought it here from my family’s home when I came for the mandatory military service.” I couldn’t feel any emotions coming from him, and I wondered if he’d started taking belladonna too.

“I wasn’t going to take it from you.”

Though he was an imposing form nearly filling the doorway, I wasn’t scared. His gray eyes didn’t hold malice . . . only sorrow.

“You should know I would never do that, Runa.”

I took a deep breath, fighting to center myself and keep the magical tether out as I spoke. “Where are the other books from . . . from Adis?” It was difficult to say his name out loud without grimacing at all the pain he’d inflicted.

“I burned them.” He stood up straight, shoving his hands into his pockets, but didn’t move to come closer. It was different, seeing him without his uniform within the walls of the Ralheim palace. Though I’d seen him during our mountain trek in non-uniform clothes, it was as if my brain created a divider between the two Otho’s and they were now being superimposed on top of each other.

“And the ones you had in Shianp?” I pressed, figuring I might as well see how much information he was willing to volunteer.

“Runa.” My name was a plea on his lips. “Please, can . . . can I hug you?”

I shook my head. Though my body ached to be closer to him, I needed to know the truth. “Where are the books, Otho?” My voice wavered as I came to his name, but if he was going to use mine, two could play at this game.

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I left them with my father. He . . . he hired Ena to be his reader.”

Well, at least now I had an answer for Askel. Though something about Ena not returning to Heimland pushed a feeling of melancholy through my veins.

“Why not burn those too?”

Otho had always been against magic.

“I was going to.” He shook his head. “But then everything that happened . . . well, I explained it to my father and . . .” He blew all the air out of his lungs. “He figured if there was still Seid it wouldn’t hurt to have magic.”

Askel had been right, it was most certainly too late to choose the no-magic approach. I pressed forward, waiting for Otho to step aside before passing through. I didn’t pause, walking toward the gate and Otho’s footsteps echoed on the stone behind me.

Once we were in the courtyard, the fresh air brushing the tendrils of hair from my face, I felt less cornered, and I spun to face him. “I’m teaching reading to anyone who wants to learn. You can come, if you want.” I hated how eager my voice sounded as the words left my lips.

He did not match my enthusiasm. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

The good mood that had been budding collapsed in an instant, and anger burst forward. “The Seid wanted magic to make everyone equal, Otho. As long as some people have and some don’t, it will be a tool of oppression, and I refuse to be a part of that.”

He sighed, his gaze flickering to something over my shoulder, and I had an inkling that Astrid was standing there.

“I don’t need your permission. I will teach reading to all who want and continue to promote magic as an equalizer. You can decide which side you are on—with, or against me.”