Page 20 of Heir of Autumn
“Yes, quite a lovely boat,” Evander said, his fingers drumming against his perfect cheekbone. “And quite a lovely body, too.”
Sylvain coughed into his fist, refusing to meet either my eyes or Evander’s as his cheeks reddened. I’d already figured out that drowning Evander wasn’t really an option now that we were protected by our water-breathing spell.
Maybe I’d dream up some other way to leave his waterlogged carcass for Headmaster Shivers to find.
I boarded the little boat with Sylvain, Satchel still riding on my shoulder. Namirah offered to scout ahead in her hawk shape, and Evander insisted on flying alongside us on his butterflies. Not a huge issue, since a lighter load likely meant Sylvain’s boat would speed along faster.
And if Evander’s magic gave out and his cloud of butterflies dropped him in the ocean, hey, that sounded like a sweet bonus.
I pressed two fingers against my amulet, channeling a portion of my arcane essence into the gemstone from the Oriel of Air. Dr. Fang really did us a solid by pressuring me to go there first. The Breath of the Wind wasn’t just useful for giving us the gift of, you know, not drowning. It had other uses, too.
The gem pulsed with a silvery glow. The wind rushed from behind us, blowing the boat gently forward.
Success! I laughed into the open ocean, savoring the warm breeze at my back as it tousled my hair. Satchel held on tight. Sylvain grinned as he picked the curls out of my face, swept my hair back against my head.
“How lovely to see you smile, oh summoner.”
I bumped our shoulders together, held his hand for balance. “It’s nice to know that we’re getting somewhere with the Withering, for once. That’s one problem out of the way, and another oriel conquered.”
Sylvain squeezed my hand and pecked my cheek, saying nothing and everything.
“Look how charming the two of you are together,” Evander said, drifting close by, admiring himself in a compact mirror and making kissy faces. “You’re so sweet it could turn the stomach.”
“Shut up, Skink,” I called into the wind, smiling hard. I couldn’t even pretend to be angry.
“No wonder Aphrodite likes the two of you so much,” Evander called back. It was both kind of annoying and kind of impressive how he could so easily keep pace with the boat. “You do realize that we completely forgot to ask her about the unicorn, don’t you?”
“Oh, please, like Aphrodite would have given us a straight answer. We’ll find the unicorn on our own. She’ll be in the thick of trouble, I’m sure of it. Her sisters said she was a silly filly, a misguided mare, or didn’t you hear when you were eavesdropping?”
“I was not eavesdropping, for your information.” Evander harrumphed. “I was — gathering intelligence. Yes.”
The laughter burst out of my throat, the novel joy of boating in an oriel of all places tickling the inside of my stomach, but the sheer audacity of this bitch somehow even funnier. I showed Evander a very rude gesture.
“Hey, Skink! Gather this.”
Sylvain guffawed, taken aback.
“Why, I never!” Evander barked, sputtering as he concocted a comeback.
“If everyone could just stop shouting for a minute,” Satchel shouted, “that would be great.”
Sylvain peered down at my shoulder. I turned my head, too, trying to take a peek at what Satchel was busying himself with. He looked like he was sewing something. Were those the supplies from Dr. Fang’s office?
“What exactly are you doing there, Satchel?” Sylvain asked. “This seems an inopportune time to be handling a needle and thread.”
“Mind your own business,” Satchel snapped. “We’re still going the right way. Let me know when a monster shows up to eat us.”
The ride was much smoother than I expected, though maybe that was bolstered by the magical nature of our vessel and the wind blowing it forward. Every now and then Satchel would wet his finger in his mouth, then gauge the direction of the guardian again.
By the third time I was squinting at him, wondering if he even needed to go through all the motions. He knew instinctively already and was probably only doing it to inject some dramatics.
“Watch,” Sylvain muttered. “He’s going to lick his finger again.”
“Shush,” I whispered back. “Let him be. He likes doing it.”
“For the ceremony of it, I imagine, but perhaps for the attention as well, a little bit. He really is easing into his role as your familiar, oh summoner. He’s picking up more and more of your personality traits.”
“How dare you?” I said, my voice back to its normal level. “I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean, anyway,”
