“Afternoon, Lore. How is your task coming along?” He bit into his wrap like it was going to escape if he didn’t eat it immediately.
Lore arched an eyebrow. Asher ate his food with a certain ferociousness that, well, she had to admit wassomehowequal parts charming and alarming.
She finished chewing her reasonable-size bite before replying. “It’s monumental. I need a crew of eight at least, but since it’s just me... the fact it’s coming along at all is a miracle, I suppose.”
She wanted to tell him about the empty book she had found earlier and about the strange room that was there and not there at all. About the fact that even half a bell later she was still lightheaded and swore she could smell the lingering scent of the wild sage and rose. Could feel the plush rug just out of reach of her fingertips. That she had been terrified she was losing her mind because she didn’t know much about magic, but she hadn’t thought a spell could create something so...real.
It was one thing for a spell to manipulate her emotions like the one around Duskmere—which had successfully kept her people trapped there for centuries by inciting raw terror—but to be able to see something? Feel it?
That was a different beast altogether.
At the same time, she didn’t want to alarm him and risk losing this opportunity to learn more. Asher would be obligated to report it to his superior, who would then tell Chief Steward Vinelake, and then she wouldn’t have any answers at all. Andmore than that, the choice to bring them the book herself would be taken away from her, and she didn’t quite understand why she couldn’t let that happen, but she couldn’t.
If she gave up the book, it would be because shechoseto.
She was surprised, honestly. For weeks she had been scouring the library for a magical text, and now that she’d found one, even an empty one, she hesitated to bring it to the very people who were paying her to find it.
But in the back of her mind a voice was whispering to her, wondering at her surprise. Hadn’t she always wanted magic? Isn’t that why she was searching the library? Yes, to aid in the rebuilding of Duskmere as payment, but mostly to find some magic that she could keep for herself. Hadn’t this been exactly what she’d been looking for?
No, she wouldn’t give up the book yet, or tell anyone about that secret room.
She wanted to understand how magic could be that powerful and how it could transport you to a different place. Or at least make it look, smell, and feel like one had been transported to a different place. That book was the closest she’d gotten to a magical text and she wasn’t going to give it up that fast.
She closed her eyes, sipping her hot coffee with a sigh.
“You love that drink, don’t you?”
She opened her eyes to see Asher peering at her over what was left of his wrap. It wasn’t much. The poor wrap hadn’t stood a chance against the fae male.
“Coffee? Yes, we humans need it to survive, or we will wither away to nothing.”
He raised his eyebrow speculatively. She was starting to like that eyebrow, the particular arch of it, questioning her, teasing her.
Lore hid her smile behind her clay mug. “No, it’s true. Without a daily dose of coffee, I would surely die.”
His eyebrows narrowed. “You’re jesting.”
She laughed into her cup. “Yes, I’m jesting. I just don’t see how you don’t drink coffee.”
He took a large gulp of his iced herbal tea and shrugged. There were literal leaves floating around in it and Lore had to resist the urge to stick out her tongue in mock disgust.
“Coffee makes me jittery, so this is enough for me.”
“Right. Well, I’m glad you have your cold leaf water then. I’ll enjoy my creamy cup of joy.”
There—a small smile from him. His eyes seemed to sparkle a little more when he smiled.
Then it disappeared again as he turned serious. “I’m leaving for a bit. I don’t know how long, but don’t stray too far from your quarters while I’m away, okay? Remember what I said about the other sentries?”
“I remember.” She hadn’t believed him then. She’d thought it had been a trick of some sort. She knew now that it wasn’t. Comparing Asher to the male fae who had scarred her...
She withheld a shudder.
“Good.” A pause, a little bit of sparkle returning to his eyes. “And don’t steal from the kitchens anymore, hmm? You make a terrible thief.”
Was that concern behind the mirth in his eyes?
“First of all, if I wanted to be a thief, I would excel at it!” She eyed him. “You said you would be gone for ‘a bit.’ How long is that?”