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“So, we’re looking for a massive vase that is extremely robust.”

“Yes, yes. A massive hunk of porcelain,” she laughed. “Is your ego sufficiently stroked?”

He turned to her then, walking slowly closer until he could feel the ghost of her quickening breath on his skin. “It might need a few more caresses to fully heal.”

She blew out a shaky breath but didn’t step away. Instead, she locked eyes with him and the air between them crackled as she reached up to brush hair from his face. She hummed contemplatively. “Is your ego such a fragile thing?”

A grin spread wide across his face. “It has been repeatedly wounded since we became research partners.”

Perine laughed, her eyes bright. “Yes, well.” She patted his chest playfully. He expected her to jerk her hands away, for her to keep the carefully protected distance between them… instead her touch lingered. Her fingertips trailed down the wet shirt clinging to his skin. “I think you’ve borne your burden well.”

He cleared his throat. “You have no idea.”

His thoughts were a riot of undiluted want—it was becoming increasingly difficult to remember that she was betrothed. The pull he’d felt towards her intensified until it was almost a tangible thing. A pained look flashed across Perine’s face and he laid a hand atop hers where it had stilled on his chest. They took a long breath together, eyes locked, until as if by a united understanding they wrenched themselves from each other.

A chill spread across his skin at the loss of her nearness. His heart thrummed a painful and lonesome rhythm as she backed steadily away from him.

He hushed it with reminders of his dire situation. Thankfully, he was at his core a selfish creature and his will to live temporarily dulled his desire to pull Perine to him and bury his nose in her neck.

Long hours passed as they combed the enormous room, bringing any large vase with a stopper to one of the sprawling tables.

They took a break once for refreshments pulled from Perine’s nonsensical satchel. She’d shown him the snakeskin dice she’d found earlier. He’d remarked on how ugly they were, causing her to smack him across the arm with a grin.

The truth was, Oleander was so nervous about getting this parasite out of him that he could not admire the hideous dice that Perine was so excited about. His attention was entirely fixed on now.

Once the table was properly filled with a myriad of vases, Perine began holding up vase after vase to his chest to determine which one was the perfect size.

Their clothing dried hard and stiff, Perine’s hair hung in wild, thick silver curls. Oleander wanted to tell her she should take off the ring, and forgo the sorceress disguise only he was loath to let her know that he yearned to see her true face.

“Alright.” Her eyes darted from an ornately painted blue and white vase in her hands to Oleander’s torso. “I think we’ve found our Circumpscription Urn. I’ve written out instructions for half of the spell. You’ll need to provide the, for lack of better word ink, for the rune I’ll need to paint onto you. That’s the first part of the spell at least. I’ll take care of the rest in the meantime.”

They worked quietly near each other for a few peaceful minutes. Oleander’s gaze drifted up from the notes Perine had scribbled out for him to follow, landing on her. She was all nervous energy, biting her thumbnail as she pored over the notes she’d written for herself.

“I can’t believe you’re just now feeling uneasy.” Oleander let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “I’ve been fucking terrified this whole time.”

Her lips twitched into a genuine smile. “I mean, I was fairly terrified of that Leviathan.”

“That monster,” Oleander said with a choked laugh. “Will forever haunt my nightmares.”

“I’ve just never done magic with such high stakes before, is all.”

Oleander met her eyes, and this odd connection between them pulled taught. “There’s no one I’d trust more than you to help me with this.”

Perine blinked at him, mouth slightly open as a blush bloomed across her face. She snapped her mouth shut but through this strange bond he could feel her internal shiver from his words. In response, Oleander raised his brows at her and leaned slightly forward, as if daring her to bridge the gap between them once more. With a forced scoff, she turned away, gruffly mumbling, “Well, then you’re more insane than I thought you were.”

“Likely, so,” was all he said in response.

She glanced up at him and sighed before a lopsided grin pulled at her lips, he felt his face mirror hers and—spirits below he was on the verge of death, so why couldn’t he stop smiling?

Instead of terror coursing through him, he felt a warm calm as he watched Perine move confidently to gather ingredients from a nearby table and pull vials from her satchel.

Oleander hadn’t felt the shadow’s presence since he’d been swallowed by the Leviathan. The vaults seemed to act as a magical buffer, allowing him a moment of peace to concentrate—which was a much appreciated reprieve. Still, he knew his shadow was lurking, waiting.

Turning back to his notes, Oleander read them again carefully. Runic magic was deceptively simple at its core—one simply drew a rune and projected their intention. But the more powerful the spell, then the more specific the combination of runes, intention, and other elements were required to be.

At the edge of his vision, a puff of vibrant green smoke billowed into the air. Looking up, he saw that Perine’s hair had expanded to twice its usual size, curls flying wildly around her face. She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, deeply focused as she slowly poured an inky liquid into a cauldron she’d found.

Oleander turned back to his assigned notes with a smirk and began collecting what he would need. First, his own blood, sweat, and a tear. The blood came from a pinprick on his finger, and for the sweat, he lit a candle, holding his hand over the flame until the heat coaxed beads of perspiration. The tear came easily enough after he plunged the tip of his finger directly into the flame itself.