Page 62 of A Fate of Blood and Magic
“You could always bring her too,” I offered.
“Oh no.” She shook her head. “As much as I love little Soa, I also love my time away from her. You’ll see what I mean soon enough.”
I rubbed my stomach affectionately, not able to imagine wanting to be separated from my babies for even a short time.
“My cousin doesn’t believe you.” Alastor winked.
I moved to lift my middle finger but thought better of it when I remembered all the kiddos around us. Alastor’s grin widened.
“Ass,” I mouthed to his delight.
“It only gets worse the older we get,” Sama said, tilting her chin up. “Mama and Popop try to get rid of me at every chance.”
“Somehow, they always end up in my home,” Alastor added.
I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t act like you don’t love every minute of it.”
He bit down on his smile.
More and more, Alastor relaxed around me, his smiles and teases coming easier than before.
Ready to leave, I inched forward on the cushion. “I should head home,” I said. “Get a couple of hours of silence before the kids get out of school.”
“See? You already know what I mean.” Bon cackled at her tease. “Soak up all that silence because chaos always follows.”
I stepped toward Bon and ran a finger over Mimesoa’s cheek. Although the lirio appeared to be made of tree bark, their skin was deceptively soft and smooth. “Do you think I can carry her next time I come?”
Her expression softened. “Of course. Mimesoa would love that.”
Alastor stood at my side. “Could you stop at my home first? There’s something I’d like to try with you.”
“Sure, of course,” I said.
Around him, the kids groaned. I ran a hand through Chaka’s spiky hair, and although he was still only a child, the top of his head almost reached my chin.
When Alastor offered me his arm, I slipped my hand through it. We took our time to talk to the fae we passed in his village. It gave me peace to see him so at ease in his home, with his people, when he’d felt lost in where he belonged only a few months ago.
His hut was similar to the others, but it was placed in the center of the village. When we went inside, he gestured for me to sit. Like the lirio, his living room didn’t have a couch or anything comfortable to sit on, so I made do and sat on the rug in front of his firepit.
From his inner pocket of magic, Alastor pulled out a large, worn book. My pulse kicked up, racing at the sight.
“Is that . . . ?” I reached for the yellowed edges, my fingers trembling at the magic that vibrated from the book. “That’s the living book you learned from.”
“It is.” Taking a seat next to me, he pulled the book on his lap. “I told Elias I’d ask the book about the orb he keeps in his inner pocket of magic. I’d like to know if we can use the magic stored in the orb to aid us against the humans.”
I flinched at his words, and his eyes widened.
“I don’t mean—I simply meant those who’ve pitted themselves against us,” Alastor said, his tone gentle.
“I know. I get it,” I said. “People like me have done some terrible things. How can I help?” I pointed at the living book, curiosity and excitement coursing through me.
“The book always answered better when Blaise, Leanora, and I asked it questions together.” For an instant, his features pinched in pain, and he rubbed two fingers between the bridge of his nose. “It should recognize your mage blood. I believe if we were to ask it about the orb, it may answer us.”
Just like the orb had done so many months ago, the book seemed to call to me, speak to me. This time when the urge to touch it ran through me, I abided. A flash of light flamed behind my eyes while this comfortable warmth flooded my veins. I gasped but kept my hold on the book, not wanting to let go.
“Think of the orb.” Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I heard Alastor’s voice.
I pulled my thoughts away from the welcoming tug from the book and thought of the orb. The way it’d whispered to me. The way its magic thrummed in my palm. The way it promised death to any who threatened it.
