Page 60 of Wizards & Weavers
Braiden frowned, a sudden flare of anger rejuvenating him. He peeled away from Augustin’s arms, finding the strength to stand on his own.
“Wait a minute. You knew we would find one? So you had your own reasons for coming down here? This wasn’t about sealing the dungeon at all!”
Augustin gathered himself up, regaining his composure as he slipped the whistle stone into one pocket. That muffled the sound of it, though the continuous outpouring of air did inflate one side of his trousers in an amusing way. But Braiden was in no mood to laugh.
“I meant what I said all along,” Augustin said. “It was just as I told you and Elder Orora. I intended to come here to see for myself whether this dungeon required sealing. And now I’ve seen for myself that it’s worth keeping open.”
“Because of your silly whistle stones,” Braiden said, jabbing his finger at Augustin’s chest. “Now that you actually stand to benefit, sealing the dungeon off is the last thing you want to do. Selfish. Greedy. Mean.”
Augustin raised his hands, defending himself from the barrage of Braiden’s poking finger. “No, no. You misunderstand. We can find a way to protect the burrowfolk, seal or no seal.”
“Stop it, you two,” Elyssandra called out. The cottage had already vanished, Warren along with it, only the jade flower remaining by her feet. “We can discuss this. Come inside and yell at each other where it’s nice and warm.”
“And another thing,” Braiden said, stepping forward, horribly misjudging the distance and tripping over yet again.
Augustin caught him again, strong fingers digging into his arms. It was very hard to get angry and stay angry at someone so helpful, and this was a worse fall, too. Braiden’s body swayed sideways as he gripped at Augustin’s arms. The contents of his backpack spilled onto the ground.
The tinkling of small, metallic objects filled his ears. His coin purse — the Il-venessi dragons. The ancient gold scattered along the ground, spinning and clinking amid the debris.
“Those are Il-venessi dragons,” Augustin said. “No one uses them these days. Only Il-venessi nobles. And pirates.”
“I can explain,” Braiden said.
A swell of anger overcame Augustin’s face, but the darkening of his eyes was quickly followed by a droop in his shoulders, a heavy sadness. Braiden could almost imagine the black cloud over the wizard’s head.
“Grandmother paid you, didn’t she?” Augustin breathed, his voice so small. “To watch over me. To make sure I didn’t disobey.”
Braiden shook his head, then shook his hands. “It’s not like that at all. Augustin, I swear it, I never meant to deceive you. I just — oh.”
His voice faltered, his words trailing off. His body was so heavy, and Augustin’s arms were so warm, so strong. And that look of disappointment, of betrayal — how could he have hurt the wizard so?
That was it, the last of his arcane willpower drained, and now the last of his will sapped from his body, too. Braiden collapsed into Augustin’s arms. The world went dark.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Braiden Beadle dreamedof warm clouds. Or butter. Pancakes? Maybe all those things.
He was lying on something far softer and warmer than the icy cavern floor, though nothing quite as warm as Augustin Arcosa’s grasp. Elyssandra had a great point. Why did he have such strong arms for a wizard?
Braiden stretched one arm out, eyes still shut, hand tracing along the mattress. A mattress? They must have brought him into the cottage. His fingers crept farther, seeking out the empty space beside him, knowing even with his eyes closed that something was missing.
“Augustin,” he murmured.
“What was that?” asked Elyssandra’s voice.
And then the sensation of something looming closer, of sweet breath puffing against his cheeks. Her face. It was only inches away.
Braiden froze with the stark horror of realization. He was in bed, inside the cottage, inside his shared bedroom. Elyssandra must have been watching over him. And here she was now, the last person on earth he would have liked to hear him murmur the wizard’s name.
Actually, no. It would’ve been far more embarrassing if Augustin himself had heard it.
“I know you’re awake,” Elyssandra whispered. “Just admit you’re awake, and you’re saying things in your sleep, and we’ll get this over with much, much faster.”
Braiden snapped his eyes open. “Fine! You win.” He whipped his hand up and pointed one warning finger. “And don’t you dare tell anyone what I said.”
“Oh, good,” Elyssandra said, smirking. “That you’re strong enough to make idle threats is an excellent sign. He’s awake.”
