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"I don't deserve you."
"I know." Mara kissed his temple. "But I love you anyway."
Augustus raised his head to fix her with his big gray eyes. "If I live, I'm going to make sure I work to deserve you. I promise."
"Easy, sorcerer. Your bastard side is part of your charm," Mara teased.
Augustus's hands drifted to her hips and pulled her closer. "I never said I'd stop being a bastard. I don't think even your miracle is big enough to cure me of that." He placed a hand over the miracle burning inside of her. "I can feel it, pulsing away. I hope I live long enough to see you use it."
Mara kissed him tenderly. "I believe you just might, dear sorcerer."
The Final Cup
Sacrifice and healing always require three things; blood, tears, and acceptance.
Twenty-Four
"Sorcerers have an insatiable curiosity that,if not checked, will turn into lust for knowledge only to gain power. Those that go to the dark must be destroyed lest their poison affects others." — Sorcery in the Age of Reason.
Augustus stayed with Mara for the rest of the afternoon. They ate and talked and tormented Athanasius. It was the closest to normality that Augustus had felt for a long time. It comforted him and also drove the thorn of longing that little bit deeper into his heart.
A new and even more intense storm hit that afternoon. Lightning split the sky, and all of Melbourne shook under the relentless thunder.
Sirens were screaming in the distance as the floods and winds laid a path of destruction across the city. The power went out at seven o'clock and didn't go back on.
They had decided that midnight was the most auspicious time to try and do the tea session. At least, that's what Augustus claimed.
In truth, he wanted to put it off as long as possible. Mara had given him an understanding look and kissed him until he couldn't think of anything else but her.
There was no avoiding it anymore. Augustus stood in front of Saint Anea's black statue and lit incense and the many candles at her feet.
"I've never prayed to a saint before. You know, us Protestant raised children are a lost cause that way," he whispered softly, lighting another stick of incense. "But I pray to you now, Anea. I don't ask for a miracle for myself, but please protect Mara. Help show her when to use her miracle and let it be for good. Help her live through it and be remembered again. She's someone worth remembering."
Augustus looked into the saint's face and felt the calmness in her gaze. He startled as Athanasius jumped up next to the altar.
"There might be hope for you yet, sorcerer," he commented, staring up at Anea. "I hope you live, for Mara's sake. She loves you deeply, and maybe that should give you some peace if the worst should happen."
"It has already. I didn't think there was anything left in me worth loving. She gives me hope that there might be."
"Hope is the gift of saints. It is what draws everyone to them and what makes them so dangerous. I ended up a cat, and yet, I wouldn't change a thing about loving my saint."
Augustus hesitated and then patted the cat's head. "You'll watch over Mara for me?"
"I have done so long before your useless ass came through her door. And I will until the day I die," Athanasius replied. He got a pained look on his face. "Do try and live for her. Fight for your useless life, sorcerer."
"I will, puss. I promise. If I do, I might even change you back into a man if you want."
Athanasius's ears went flat against his head. "Don't you dare. I happen to like being a cat." With that, he darted away.
Augustus shook his head. "Alchemists."
Mara opened the door from the teashop and spotted him. "Are you coming?"
"Yes, love. I'll be right there." Augustus gave Anea a final smile. "Wish me luck, gorgeous."
The saint did, though the sorcerer was incapable of hearing it.
Mara had filled the store with candles, and it seemed more magical than ever. Her lightning hair shone faintly in the gloom, and she looked otherworldly. He sat down opposite her.
