Page 48 of Avelina

“What happened?” Aaron asked. “One minute you were fine, and the next, you just fell over.” His concern for me was evident, and he was actively trying to pull me into a deeper link and succeeding somehow. I thought dimly that I would need to get better control over my powers if I was going to face Seleca again.

“I think my spirit drifted out of my body,” I said. “It felt great. I didn’t want to come back, but the ghost giant made me.”

“What giant?” Aaron asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t know, Aaron.” Now that I was alive again, calling the ghost giant “Bert” seemed utterly ridiculous. Ward and I made eye contact. Once he saw that I was okay, he shuffled toward the house and turned his back on us, looking at the trees. He hugged himself as the wind picked up, rustling the leaves.

Through our Connection link, I felt that Aaron wasn’t angry anymore, except at himself. He felt desperate but fought to keep it together. He had a strong suspicion about what we might find when we got to the house, as it was something he’d feared for years. He also believed that I was secretly in love with Ward and was confused about it, so he braced himself for that disappointment as well. He had convinced himself that getting attached wasn’t worth the risk. He would inevitably end up alone again once I realized how dangerous his life was. He just needed to accept his isolation and focus on the task at hand. That logic, however, completely fell apart when I collapsed, especially since Ward stepped aside and let him take over.

Aaron, you idiot, I thought to him. On the other hand, I knew exactly what it felt like to say that to myself. In fact, I had once used almost that exact same logic. I sighed. We’re both idiots.

Aaron hugged me too hard, burying his face in my neck. He still smelled like himself, but also faintly of BO and dead animal. He needed a bath as badly as I did. The man was a mess, and the idea that he was just as imperfect as I was made my heart swell with affection. I couldn’t hold on to even a sliver of anger at his behavior, no matter how much he deserved it.

You were so pale, he thought to me. I thought you were dead.

I coughed. I will be if you don’t let me breathe.

Aaron released me, lifting his face in alarm. I smirked at him, then pinched my nose and said out loud, “On second thought . . .”

He gave me a rueful smile. “Everything is a joke to you,” he said.

“Not everything. Just most things,” I said. I grabbed his now very scruffy beard, running my fingers through it.

Aaron’s eyes searched mine for a moment. “I’m sorry, Lina. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He meant through our Connection link, but also his behavior before and after.

“I know,” I said. “But don’t make a habit of it, okay? I would not tolerate that very well. Or at all.” He nodded, and then I tugged his beard toward my face, looked him right in the eye, and thought, very clearly, and I’m not in love with Ward, you moron.

He glanced back at me, his gaze intense, then he pulled me close and kissed me, gently this time. First my lips, then my cheek, then he hugged me again like he was afraid to let go. Maybe he was. Once he did, we would have to go into the house and possibly find something horrific. That’s the thing about pain, though. Sometimes the anticipation is worse than the pain itself, and sometimes anticipation is the only pain, a mountain of your own making.

“You’re so fragile,” he said.

“Fragile like a bomb.”

“What is that?”

I sighed. “Never mind. I’m not sure how those work either.” I petted his hair as if I were soothing a child. “We have to go in now, Aaron.”

“I know,” he said, but he didn’t let go.

After a minute, I got up, forcing him to release his hold on me. I peered down at him, waiting, but he still didn’t move. He looked so small for someone so big.

“Come on,” I said, holding my hand out to him. “We’ll go together.”

He considered my hand for a moment, then took it, rose, and we walked toward the house.

Chapter Fifteen

Linorra could smell the delicious aroma of rabbit stew hanging within the witch’s hearth. This warm, inviting cottage was not what she expected at all. It felt like home.

I feared that when we opened the front door, the smell of decay would hit us in the face, but the house smelled stale, like it had been empty for months. We crept into the front entryway, closing the heavy wooden door behind us. It made a woomf as it closed, muffling a chorus of chirping night creatures. The floors creaked under our feet, but otherwise, all was silent and still.

I glanced back at the front door and noticed there was no way to bar it from within. I know these people have metalworkers, I thought. Hasn’t anyone ever heard of a door lock?

Ward saw me staring at the door in confusion and whispered, “Door locks are outlawed here. The magisters—the men who enforce Ministry law—are allowed to enter your home at any time without notice. If they find a locked door, they are authorized to burn your house down.”

I looked at him, stunned. “Crazy freaking cult,” I mumbled. “That is so messed up.”

“It gets worse,” he said. “They’re allowed to come into your bedroom while you’re sleeping and watch you. And if they come upon you having sex with your spouse, they are supposed to ask you for your permit.”

---