Page 42 of Minor Works of Meda

Tied to life. Because the Ward could drain it?

With that as a keyhole to the rest, I guessed at one sigil, then another.

“These look like distances. Could it have hard boundary limits built into it?” I exclaimed as we pulled into the harbor. Kalcedon came to look over my shoulder.

“You can’t actually read that,” he insisted.

“I’m figuring it out,” I told him.

He gave me a long, odd look, and walked back to the railing.

Getting to and from the stone took all day. Our ship pulled into port at Olymrei as the sun fell. I stumbled getting off. Kalcedon, walking behind me, caught me around the waist. I was a little surprised at the strength of his gardeners’ arm. Like stone.

And his heat: an inferno against the whole of my back; an anchor against the coils of sigils and webs shifting in front of my eyes, patterns tugging at the edge of my knowledge.

“You’re blocking the way,” he muttered in my ear. His arm loosened. Grabbing me by the wrist as he pushed ahead, he yanked me away from the docks. I followed, my exhausted brain happy to relinquish control over such mundane matters as the movement of legs through a crowd.

Kalcedon found a tavern that served as an inn, paid for a room, and sat me down at the end of a long table. When he sat opposite me, the nearest man, a few places down the long bench, hurriedly shifted even further over.

I blearily took in the space, but my head was spinning too much to do anything but observe. A low stone ceiling. Long wooden tables. The air smelled like garlic. All the conversations around us were hushed, and I could feel too many eyes pointed our way.

Kalcedon beckoned over a serving man, then called out loud for one when the man met his eyes but refused to attend. A young tiffa was dragged from the back, her hair in braids and her apron stained from cooking. The serving man shoved her towards us.

As Kalcedon ordered food from the wide-eyed, trembling girl, I opened my bag and drew my journal back out, flipping it open to the now well-creased section where the Ward’s mysteries danced in black ink. This was far more interesting than my surroundings.

“Absolutely not.”

I blinked up at Kalcedon. He’d finished ordering and our entire half of the tavern was empty now. The half-fae man glowered at me, then reached across the table and grabbed the journal.

“No,” I protested, my hands tightening on it as he yanked. “Careful, you’ll—”

“Meda,” he growled. “Let go.”

“But—”

“You need a damned break. Let go.”

“But it’s important,” I protested, even as my fingers loosened. He closed the journal without even looking at the sigils. “I’m close, I can feel it.”

“Your eyes aren’t even focused. You need to rest.” The tiffa returned with a pitcher and cups, set them at the very edge of the table, and fled. Kalcedon had to get up and lean over to reach them. He poured me water and put it in front of me.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms. My head still felt like it was spinning.

“Look,” I told him. “I know it doesn’t matter to you, about the Ward…”

“What?” Kalcedon said. I looked at him. His eyebrows were furrowed, his dark eyes disbelieving. “Of course it does.”

“You don’t want me to go to the Temple, I know, and anyways you’d probably be happier on the other side of it,” I rambled. My mouth was awfully dry. I took a small sip of the water in front of me. Realizing how good it tasted, how badly my body craved it, I quickly drained the cup.

“Don’t be a dung-brained idiot, you…” he cut himself off, a twisted, struggling expression on his face. Kalcedon drew a deep breath and smoothed his features, but I saw how tight his jaw clenched, a muscle there feathering. “Don’t… be foolish, I mean,” he said stiffly, and I wondered if somehow my words about cruelty had gotten to him. He took another deep breath, nostrils flaring, and continued. “The Ward matters. You wouldn’t be safe, if it fell.”

“Careful,” I told Kalcedon, loopy with exhaustion. “I might start thinking you have a heart.”

He stared at me in silence across the table. The serving man came with two bowls of spiced grains and prawns. I was midway through my first bite before Kalcedon spoke. He still hadn’t moved.

“I never realized you believed that.”

I quickly swallowed. “We can’t help who we are. I don’t think less of you for it.”

---