Page 54 of Too Hexed to Handle

It’s a step too far.

He releases me abruptly, pulling away and forcing me to let go.

‘Astin . . .’

‘Don’t.’ He leans against the far wall, rubbing a hand over his face. ‘I hate seeing you cry, that’s all. It doesn’t mean anything. You’re still . . .’

I can finish the sentence for him. You’re still everything I hate. You’re unlovable. You’re the worst kind of creature in existence.

I fold my arms, trying to stop myself from shaking. ‘What if I took the cure?’

‘What?’

‘The cure,’ I repeat. ‘I could take a sip before we give it to Damian. Or if the potion’s small, I’ll drink it and swap it for another. We could lie to Damian, say we found it that way, that somebody else tampered with it. Even if he refuses to give us the reward, wouldn’t losing the inn be worth it?’

We’d also lose the chance to stop the Souleater who attacked us. Would that be worth it? Suddenly, it’s me who wants to avoid eye contact, because I know Astin’s answer.

Oblivious to what’s really at stake, Astin says, ‘The inn means everything to you.’

You mean more.

I thought the inn was my whole world, but I realise now that’s not true. It’s Astin I was orbiting, my life with him the thing worth saving. The inn is wood and bricks, but Astin made it home. If I’m his constant, then he’s mine too.

Before I can come up with a less revealing response, he stiffens, frowning. ‘Was this your plan all along?’

‘I – Yes. Maybe. I don’t want to be like this. I never have.’

He opens his mouth. Closes it again. Finally, he nods. ‘Well. Good luck with it.’

‘What?’

‘Good luck with it,’ he repeats. ‘Hope it works out. But I put what I wanted on hold for you, and I’m not doing it any more. The only thing that matters to me is finding the Souleater who killed Olivia. I might not be able to hurt you, but I can kill them.’

His eyes blaze, and I cringe, hating that he’s reverted to this. That I’m the one who drove him to it. I suppose it’s a silver lining I’m not on his hit list tonight, but it’s a thin one.

Especially when Damian told me the Souleater that Astin really wants is in Rerta, and I chose to keep it from him. Am keeping it from him even now, despite suspecting they were the one who sent those wraiths. It seems too much of a coincidence that the attack happened tonight, with everyone from the contest vying for the statue. I’m surprised they didn’t walk in and hex everyone themselves – I guess the increased presence of wardens was enough of a deterrent to stay hidden.

If only I knew where said hiding spot was, so we can stay far, far away.

To Astin, the only thing I can think to say is, ‘You don’t know where to look.’

You don’t know where to look, so stay here with me.

‘Then I’ll look everywhere,’ he retorts, oblivious to my silent plea. ‘Those wraiths tonight were familiar, don’t you think? Do they always look like that, or does it vary by Souleater? You’ll have to forgive me, I’m not versed in the rules of your kind –’

‘Me neither,’ I snap. ‘They’re not my kind, as I keep telling you. But if it is the same Souleater, it’s too dangerous for you to go after them alone. What if you get hurt? What if you get killed?’

Astin shrugs. ‘It’s worth the risk.’

‘No, it’s not!’ Panic is a shooting star in my veins as Astin walks towards the entrance of the alley, on to the street, away from me, from us. ‘You can’t leave,’ I whisper.

We’re Daisy and Astin. Astin and Daisy. We haven’t been apart in two years. Surely that means something.

Surely that should make it harder to walk away.

He halts. ‘I can’t stay either.’

‘Wait . . . Astin . . .’ This wasn’t how this conversation was supposed to end. Love triumphs over hate, isn’t that how everything’s supposed to go? Isn’t that the whole point of the Laevothe festival?