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I inhale very slowly, trying not to make a noise. I don’t know that voice. That’s not the man who was waiting for us on the other side of the portal. Someone grunts in reply, an irritated sort of snort that almost certainly meansshut the hells up.
“Fine,” the man replies. “Keep your secrets.”
There’s a low sloshing sound, and the ground rocks again. Water flows over my ankles and calves. Am I on a boat?
“You gonna tell me why you can’t stop staring at her?” the man asks.
“I’m not staring,” Phaedron hisses.
My muscles pull tight. The back of my head hits something hard. My heartbeat screams inside my chest so loudly I swear Phaedron must be able to hear it. Stolen magic pulses through my ribcage, making my heart throb in my temples.
“Yes, you are,” the other man replies. “You’ve been staring at her this whole time.”
“How would you know?” Phaedron snaps in a low whisper. “Are you staring at me?”
The other man laughs, low and thick in the back of his throat. “Defensive, much?” he asks.
Phaedron sighs. “She’s—” he begins.
He hesitates, and I realize I’m holding my breath.She’s nobody, Phaedron said to the man outside the portal. My heart feels like a fist inside my chest, a cold, hard center beneath the shifting miasma of stolen magic.
“She’s a magician,” Phaedron finally says. “She’s Ithronel’s sister. We thought she could help us find you.”
“Huh,” the other man replies. “That’s why you brought her with you? To find me? You must not like her very much.”
“No,” Phaedron snaps. “I mean, that’s not why she came with me.”
He falls silent. The floor rolls beneath me, sending water over my legs. We must be on a boat.
“She’s pregnant,” Phaedron adds, in a much lower voice.
My gut clenches around a hot fist of magic. The other man makes a surprised snorting sound that’s almost a laugh.
“Damn,” he says. “You work fast!”
“She’s four months pregnant, you idiot,” Phaedron replies.
The other man makes a sort of purring sound.
“I couldn’t leave her in the Lands Below,” Phaedron whispers. “You know that, you know what the void does to pregnancy. I— I didn’t have a choice.”
“That’s cool,” the other man says, in a tone that suggests it’s not actually very cool. “Your love life is your own damn business, Phae.”
“It’s not—” Phaedron sputters. “I mean, we aren’t—”
Stolen magic hisses inside of me. I try to squeeze my jaw shut, but a low, whimpering moan slips out anyway as my shoulders curl inward, trying to hold on to the magic that’s beating against the inside of my chest like a caged bird. Phaedron gasps, water surges over my abdomen, and suddenly a hand is on my shoulder, rolling me over.
Magic screams inside me as a tiny light flares into existence, casting a soft orange glow over Phaedron’s face. Stars, he looks terrible! His cheek is streaked with either mud or blood, his lips are so dry they’re cracking, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in years. And, stars help me, despite all that’s happened between us since I pushed him through that portal in the old god’s prison, I’m so stupidly happy to see him.
“Alindra,” he whispers, saying my name like it’s a prayer.
I open my mouth. Another low moan slides out. Magic churns inside of me like a pit of vipers, angry and desperate to escape. I won’t be able to hold it for long, but maybe—
“Phae,” I whisper. “Magic. Please.”
The scent of Phaedron’s magic swirls through the heavy air, like sweet, warm spices, and then Phaedron stretches his hand toward me. There, curled in the nest of his palm, is a tiny, exquisite flower so red it seems to be shining with its own inner fire. It’s the same flower Phaedron made for me in the canyon of the Barrier Mountains, and some part of me wishes I didn’t have to destroy it. Or that I didn’t have to destroy anything.
My arm is stiff and heavy, and it fills with pins and needles when I lift it. Wincing against the bright, stabbing pain lancing my muscles, I lift my hand to Phaedron’s. Our fingers brush when I take the illusion from his outstretched hand, and my entire aching body shivers in response. I remember the bracelet on the guard in the Towers and the silver vials King Grathgore used to trap magic. Perhaps—
