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“True. What if I promise not to dread? Sex, then a long, lovely nap. A hot bath after. Much better than some dank, damp, waterlogged arcanium.”
He laughed, taking her hand and opening the doors. “I’m surprised that someone who hates water likes baths so much.”
“Cold water,” she clarified, dragging behind him. “I hatecoldwater. So, unless that lake is heated…”
“I’ll keep you warm,” he promised with a wink.
“You sure are frisky all of a sudden,” she commented sourly.
“I’m excited,” he agreed. “I think this will work.”
Fortunately, his family was all still out on the lawn, enjoying the party and the warm spring evening without them. Even so, knowing it would be better not to run the risk of being noticed, Gabriel led Nic down the back stairs to the kitchens. He found a lantern, and a candle for it, which he lit with a match. “Don’t look at it like that,” he said when she wrinkled her nose disdainfully. “It does the job.”
“Until the candle burns out,” she retorted.
“Aha.” He grinned at her and led her to the cellars. “There aremorecandles.”
She muttered about the smell and speculated darkly about the worse conditions to come, but she followed along more or less willingly. When they reached a round door set into a wall that was, admittedly, beaded with moisture, she gave him an incredulous look. “Seriously? No. Gabriel, donotopen that—”
He muscled the round door open, the hinges stiff and creaking but operational. He gestured to the round, stone-lined tunnel beyond. “Not flooded,” he noted.
“You didn’t know.”
“I did. Water wizard, remember?”
Gingerly, she peered inside. “There’s water in the bottom, though.”
“Hold this.” He handed her the lantern, then picked her up and stepped over the threshold. “Pull the door shut, would you?”
“So they’ll never find us, ensuring we die down here. Great idea,” she grumbled, pulling the door shut anyway.
Chuckling at her, he strode down the tunnel, the ankle-deep water splashing and echoing off the rounded, moss-covered walls.
“Why can’t you just wick the water away?” Nic asked, gaze focused ahead. “Then I could, you know, walk by myself.”
He nuzzled her temple. “What’s the fun in that?”
“Who are you and what have you done with my grumpy wizard?”
“I’m not that grumpy,” he protested. “And why spend magic on drying out a tunnel when it’s passable as is and I’m wearing waterproof boots?”
“Now there would be an excellent House Phel export,” she mused. “We could ally with Ophiel to make waterproof clothing.”
“Good idea, Lady Phel.”
She snorted, still looking ahead. “I don’t love that we have no idea how long this tunnel is.”
“I know how long it is,” he reassured her.
That got her attention. She swiveled her head to look at him. “You’ve been here before.”
“How else could I know it was here?”
“You might’ve said,” she snarled with purest exasperation.
“I thought I did,” he replied mildly.
“Why don’t we skip the riddles, and you just tell me why you think the arcanium is at the end of this tunnel?”
