Page 57 of King’s Kismet

“That too,” she admitted, turning us toward the detached garage.

The pedmar’s new stable was nestled to the right and completely finished, making me curious as to how she had it built so quickly. She likely paid a small fortune to make sure Pete was happy and comfortable…

Yet the creature lay on the ground, nothing but a massive black shadow as we rounded the corner.

A slight whistling sound came from his mouth as he slept in the grass. His trunk was stretched across the ground, ears flopped over his face, and each time he exhaled, they fluttered.

When he heard us, he lifted his right ear, one glossy eye staring at us.

“Are you going to sleep out here?” she asked the pedmar. “It’s going to be hot once the sun comes up.”

His teeth chattered, which meant something more to Sloane than I could guess.

“Okay.” She nodded. “I understand. Do you mind if we hang out with you for a few minutes? Palmer is really loving the stars tonight.”

The pedmar rolled his gigantic head to look at the sky, heaving a deep breath that sounded like it should accompany a smart remark. But he only chirped, a single, oddly squeaky noise.

Sloane circled to his back, sinking to the ground to lean against his neck. When she got comfortable, he used his trunk to mess up her hair. She swatted at him, and he chirped once more, though this time he sounded happier.

I sat beside her, propping my head on the pedmar’s shoulder, expecting him to tense or something. But he made no move to show me I was unwelcome.

As the seconds ticked by, I grew more nervous about my request. I tapped my fingers against my thighs, trying to quietly expel the pent up energy, though it didn’t help.

“What’s eating at you?” Sloane inquired, glancing at my hands.

I sighed. “I think I know how to rid myself of the tracker the angel put on me.”

“That’s good news,” she stated, cutting her eyes at me. “Why are you so agitated?”

I dug into my pants pocket, gently removing the folded paper. I’d been carrying it around for so long the creases had become fragile, showing too much wear and tear, though I only cared that it was still readable.

“What is that?”

“A spell,” I answered, handing her the paper.

“I’ve never seen anything so complicated,” she murmured.

Sloane’s gaze roved over the symbols and Latin phrases as her brow continued to crease. Finally, her attention snapped back to me.

“Who is this for? Be specific, Mage. Are you asking me to do this?”

I bit at my lips, then nodded. “I need you to use this spell on me.”

“What?” she asked, shaking her head. “It’s not a spell, Palmer. It’s an idea, an experiment.”

“It’ll burn his tracker off of me.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she argued. “But it’ll burn you in the process.”

I shrugged, unsure of how to explain the importance. “We have to do it before we go to Belfast, Love.”

“It’s going to hurt you, Palmer,” she whispered, not hiding the urgency in her tone. “I can’t do this.”

“It’ll hurt worse if he shows up unannounced and catches us off guard.”

“I can’t—”

“You have to,” I interrupted, frowning as I said, “It’s the only way.”