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My heart almost stops beating.
She knows the tome? She has access to the tome?
How ironic is it that Tessa has the crowning moment of my career right in her hands and is offering it to me for almost nothing?
If she’s telling the truth, this will help the King see me in a new light.
“Okay. I will take you back.” I know when I speak that I’m agreeing for more than the book.
I want to watch fiery determination flash across her eyes one last time.
EIGHT
TESSA
I’m so glad that I managed to persuade Varzig to come back with me. The time with the demons wasn’t altogether terrible … it could act as fodder for some of my stories … but being harassed day in and day out without knowing the fate of my town’s people would surely start to take a toll on me.
Varzig informed his leader that he was going to the village to investigate a lead. Apparently, the book is of the utmost importance to the demon, likely because of its magical prowess. I don’t really care at this point, though. I just want to get home before the orcs burn the village to the ground.
I spot the tip of the roofing first as we mount the hill. As usual, it’s misty as dawn breaks over the horizon. I feel a warm sense of relief wash over me as I see the farmhouse back in full form, with villagers walking by undisturbed.
“Thank the gods,” I mutter.
Varzig isn’t paying attention to me. Though I feel an inclination for his attention, I know it will not sustain me. He reminds me of the orcs … a far more handsome one … in the way he walks, focused and unperturbed by my emotional weight.
When we get to my home, my parents embrace me tightly. They see Varzig, his towering, soldier-like presence, and begin to cower away.
“Who is this beast?” My mother cried out.
I comfort them, reassuring the people who love me most that Varzig means no harm. Even if I’m not entirely sure whether or not that is true.
“He’s going to help us,” I plead with my parents. “He’s not here to do anyone any more harm, I promise you that.”
Varzig stood there, face blank and indifferent. I think I noticed him blinking a few times rapidly, which is the behavior of a man who is somewhat affected by the emotions around him.
It’s of no matter, though. He just wants the book. No point in assessing him too closely.
“I’m here for the book,” he said plainly. “Then I will be out of the way.”
My parents, particularly my mother, are calmed by this sentiment. It’s delivered in a way a man on a mission speaks, direct but almost soothing.
“That is fine and dandy,” my father said while consoling my mother. “You do that and don’t cause my home any more damage, you hear me? I’ve spent all day thatching up that roof you tore!”
My father pointed at the fresh metal he had applied to the home. I feel a sense of amusement rising up in my gut, which is entirely inappropriate. I repressed it by encouraging my parents to go about their business, and we will go about ours.
My father attempted to give Varzig a warning scowl, but it fell short. Varzig is a demon with scales in the place of skin, long dashing hair, and eyes the color of the blood moon.
I doubt any human has ever fazed him.
I took him inside, and despite the fact that he was in his smallest form, Varzig still had to bend his neck slightly to get through. This also amuses me, but I keep it to myself.
“It’s in here.”
I take him to my bedroom, which is exorbitantly messy now, and I feel self-conscious about it. But he doesn't seem to notice the books and old papers stacked around. His eyes begin to glow at the sight of the ancient artifact.
“That?” He pointed at the leather-bound book.
“Yes.”
