Page 92 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams
“Excuseme?” Alastor says, leveling a piercing stare at my brother.
“I mean, you weren’t interrupting anything we can’t continue later,” Harman corrects himself. “I’m assuming this won’t take long, because I’d really like to go back to kissing Alastor as soon as possible.”
“That’s more like it,” Alastor says, mollified.
“I’ll try to make it quick,” I say as the fae ushers my brother out the door.
“Okay, let’s hear what’s so urgent,” Alastor says, turning around and facing me.
“I want to talk about the location spell you used to find me in Qimorna. Exactly how powerful was that thing? Because Leon said the effects would wear off, but if anything they seem to be getting stronger, and when I try to ask, he dodges the subject.”
Alastor’s face drops as I talk, and when I’m done, he’s still holding tightly onto the door handle.
“I changed my mind,” he says. “I definitely don’t have time to have this conversation.” He starts to open the door. “So if you’ll just go take it up with Leon?—”
“Alastor!” I say, appalled he’s trying to brush me off too. “I came to you because I thought I could trust you to be honest with me.”
Alastor blows air out through his teeth and shuts the door again.
“Have you actually asked him outright about it?” His tone is serious, and it worries me.
“Well, no…” I say.
“You need to. Soon. Because this isn’t going to go away.”
Now I’m definitely nervous. “Just how big a deal is it? What is this spell? Leon said it was some old piece of fae magic?—”
“It is. Very old. And it’s not actually meant to be used to locate people at all,” Alastor says, running his hand through his hair. “You really need to discuss this with him, not me. But I’ll say two things first: I suggested it in the first place, so this is partially on me. I’ll own up to that. Secondly, we were desperate.Hewas desperate. Just remember that.”
I stare at him, dread rising at every word. He wouldn’t be preemptively trying to calm me down unless the truth would make me truly furious.
“It can’t be that bad, can it?” I ask.
“That depends on you,” Alastor says.
I don’t have any response to that. I have the knee-jerk instinct to thank him for talking this out with me—but then I realize that no, actually, I don’t feel very thankful after all. Apparently, the fae have been keeping something from me, and until I know exactly what it is, I don’t know how hurt to be.
When I leave, I also don’t say a word to Harman, who’s hovering out in the corridor. I’m too focused on seeing Leon, on imagining his expression when I ask him the question I’ve been holding back for too long.
“Ana.” Leon’s by the door when I come in. “I was just going to come and find you. I felt…”
He trails off when he sees my expression, not needing some magical link to understand that I’m upset.
“You felt what, Leon? My emotions? Did you hear my thoughts?” I turn and sit down on one of the chairs by the small table in the corner. “I think it’s time we had a discussion about why you’re suddenly so well acquainted with what’s going on inside my head. What does that location spell of yoursreallydo?”
He hesitates, and I feel a surge of frustration. “Leon, just tell me, for gods’ sakes! Whatever it is, it can’t be so terrible. You wouldn’t have done it if it was; I know that much.”
Whatever else might be true, I know that Leon loves me—would die for me. Whatever solution he found might have been drastic, but it wouldn’t condemn me to a life of misery. And yet he stands there like he doesn’t know what to say.
I sigh. “Leon?—”
“If I tell you, there’s no going back,” he blurts out.
“What do youmeanthere’s no going back? You mean the magic can’t be undone? It already seems pretty permanent to me. You said the side effects would fade, but the opposite is true. I’m starting to hear your thoughts like you’re speaking them aloud. How in the world is that possible?”
He runs a hand over his face and slumps down into the chair on the other side of the table. He looks like a man who’s collapsed under a heavy weight he can’t carry a step further.
“It’s known as the sawlamoor,” he says. “It’s a type of bond, or mooring, as we call it. It’s a piece of magic that connects two people.”
