Page 60 of Shadows in Bloom

I was filthy and eager to get clean, but I spared enough time to give him a glare that could rival a devil’s.

By the time I’d finished up and redressed, Alandris was sitting on the ground, legs bouncing with impatience. He only removed his eyes from the box long enough to ensure I’d taken a seat beside him. “Shall we?” he asked, but didn’t wait for a response. “This thing is pulsing with arcane energy. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize it the moment you picked it up. It appears to be magically locked.”

I looked over the box with a more discerning eye than I’d initially given it. It seemed perfectly normal to me, even now. “Are you saying you can’t open it?”

Alandris grinned. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He fiddled with the box like a child playing with a brand new toy, amusement sparkling in his eyes. He traced symbols I didn’t recognize onto the top of the box with his finger. Light glowed from the marks as the last one took form.

“I wasn’t aware you possessed that kind of magic,” I observed. “I’ve only ever seen you utilize the elements. Fire, exclusively, for that matter. What else are you hiding? Hm?”

He laughed. “I have quite a few more tricks I could demonstrate. At the Consortium, they would never accept a mage, let alone an Arch Magus, who was only good at one thing. Pity they made me study all manner of magic when I had a clear affinity for one. I complained often. Hated botany… as you know.” Alandris looked at me only briefly before turning his attention back to the strange box. “Though I suppose these minor magics have found their use today. Lyandril would shove it in my face if he saw me now, utilizing that which I claimed I never would.”

He froze, the thought of the male he thought he’d known, the mentor he thought he could trust, clouding his eyes and taking him to memories long since passed. “Well, never mind that. It was a simple lock.”

I scooted closer to him, buzzing with anticipation. If he opened the lid any slower, I was going to whack him with it. “Alandris,” I groaned, knocking him with my shoulder.

At last he pried open the lid, revealing a crumpled note, and the prize we’d been hunting for all along. Carefully rested inside, in impossibly pristine condition, was a small, glowing blueflower, similar to a rose, and cut at the stem. Not a petal missing, the flower appeared frozen in time. Beautiful. Unnatural. Perturbing enough that I didn’t feel the relief I should have in seeing it. An unruly discomfort washed over me—a sense that this box should have never been opened. And for the first time since I’d fought off the men who’d attacked me, the thing inside of me stirred.

That isn’t yours to touch. Put it back where you found it.

The whispers were angrier than normal, an underlying emotion there, that if I didn’t know so well myself, I would’ve never recognized. Fear.

I ignored the voice, turning my attention to Alandris, who was equally awestruck by our findings. “Is it magical in nature?” I questioned.

He brushed a gentle thumb along one of the petals. “Hard to tell exactly how, but yes. Definitely.”

“And the note?”

He plucked it from the box and held it out in front of us. “It is in the language of the Fae, it seems. Your time to shine.”

Stop! Put it back. NOW.

I shook my head, as if that would stop the vile voice from echoing between my ears. The sudden jerking motion caused Alandris to turn his head in question, but I dismissed his concern with another shake of my head before taking the paper from his hands. “Well, let’s see. With any luck, we may find out why this flower is so important to Amorphael.”

The symbols, upon first glance, were only incoherent squiggles and shapes. As I concentrated, they gradually organized themselves into a language I was able to understand. I began to read the note aloud.

My beloved,

I give to you a piece of me in the purest form. Only to you would I entrust something so precious. The world is ours. You will see soon the truth of my words. There is nothing I would not do for you.

Yours, Z

An exasperated chuckle broke through the silence left behind in the wake of the words. Alandris spoke in disbelief, “She truly sent me on a lover’s errand? She sent me to fetch a gift?”

“It must be something more.”

He pondered this, calming. “Yes, I suppose it must. I don’t take Amorphael for the sentimental type. It must possess some form of power. Something.” He twirled the short stem between his fingers. “I owe her this—the flower—but I do not owe her my secrecy of the knowledge of it, nor that note. It is the perfect leverage.”

“Leverage for what?”

My confusion was met with a satisfied grin. “My next bargain. Amorphael will help us free you in exchange for our secrecy of what this flower means to her.”

I pursed my lips. “Or she will kill us for having the gall to threaten her, and then it won’t matter if we know her secret because we will be… dead.”

Alandris narrowed his eyes playfully. “You know, Nairu, I succinctly remember a time when you were too shy to call me an idiot.”

Holding in my laughter, I crossed my arms in front of me. “First of all, I wasn’t calling you an idiot. Eager to die, definitely, but not an idiot. Second of all, just because I never said it doesn’t mean I didn’t think it to myself. And third of all, I thought you enjoyed my teasing.”

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