Page 58 of Still the Sun

“But you won’t, because of all your damn secrets,” I snap.

He takes a deep breath. “Please keep your voice down.”

I do. “Because of Moseus?”

“He ...”—Heartwood struggles—“does not have the same bias I do.”

Bias.The press of his body against mine certainly felt like more than abias. My face flushes at the thought, but I ignore it.

Rubbing my eyes, I take a few seconds to orient myself. “Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me how I betrayed you,” I specify, every muscle in my body tightening in self-defense. If so much as a pin drops, I’m going to burst into tears.Too much, too much, too much.

Heartwood brushes past me, but the room gives him nowhere to retreat. Folding his arms, he peers out the window. Sunlight pokes through fading mist, highlighting his features in a way that makes him look both young and old, both god and mortal. It is a breath-stealingmoment. I am completely intoxicated by his beauty and wonder how it didn’t floor me the moment I first saw him on those stairs.

But thatwasn’tthe first time I saw him. Why can’t I remember the first?

“Theft,” he answers simply. “You’d been stealing from the machines. And if they’re incomplete—”

“The wall won’t open,” I finish. I shake my head. “Heartwood, I’m nearly finished here. I haven’t found any missing parts, other than a cord I need to work the pulley system. And that thing would have been far too long and too heavy to steal with any sort of covertness.”

His focus shifts to me, and for a moment I think he’ll kiss me again. My stomach flips at the thought.

“Moseus has worked tirelessly to repair the machines,” he says. “To document what needs to be replaced. But he doesn’t understand them the way you do.”

I try to find the best means of countering. “But why would I take pieces of them when I can study the machines here, whole?”

“Your people need the metal, do they not?”

I pause. “Was I not paid, the first time?”

He nods.

I work my mouth. Close the distance between us. Emgarden needs the metal. It’s always needed the metal. But I would never have ... there’s no new machines in Emgarden! “Heartwood, you know me. Better than I know you, apparently. I would never—”

The hidden compartment beneath the kitchen table. The frame and the equilibrated orb.

The cog in the tree.

Serpent save me. It couldn’t possibly be ...

“We feared,” Heartwood continues, mechanical now, trying to stuff his feelings back into whatever weathered chest he tries to keep them in, “that pressing the issue would hurt you further. Mortal minds are ... delicate.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I hiss.

He doesn’t react. Maybe he’s used to being snapped at. I can’t remember.

Heartwood suddenly tenses. Grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door, which opens silently on its recently greased hinges. “He’s alert. You need to go.”

I stall in the doorway. “Heartwood, do you fear Moseus?”

That catches him by surprise. “No. But he is a passionate being, and you’ve betrayed him once already.”

Moseus,passionate? I would laugh, were the situation not so dire. So confounding.

“I didn’t, Heartwood,” I insist, shocked by the twisting in my own chest. I don’t want to leave. I don’t remember him, but I don’t want to leave him.

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