Page 9 of Heart's Flame

Vian accepted the cup. “Where did they go?” he asked, taking a cautious sip. The tea was pleasant, minty and sweet with honey.

“To bed. You’ve been out for several hours.”

Frowning, Vian looked at the sky again, noting the position of the moon. “So I have.” He rubbed his forehead. Everything felt jumbled in his brain, as if the memories uncovered weren’t sure of their proper place. He looked at Marcellus. “I assume one of these tents is yours. Why are you not in bed?”

Marcellus tilted his head. “Do you want me to go?”

Vian thought about lying. Now that they weren’t in the throes of a spell, he felt exposed. Raw. He’d never been good at letting anyone see beneath the surface of him and even now, knowing what Marcellus was to him, the habit didn’t want to break. But...he also didn’t want anything to be concealed between them again. “No.”

“That’s why I’m here. Because I want to be.” Marcellus dropped his eyes. “Honestly, I think I’d have to be clubbed over the head and dragged away.”

A chuckle worked its way up Vian’s throat. “Best just stay then.”

They sat quietly while Vian finished his tea, already feeling better than when he’d awoken. “I remember the night we spoke. After that first battle.”

Marcellus nodded, shifting around to sit cross-legged and facing Vian instead of the fire. “I’m sorry. I wish I’d listened to you.”

“What started it? The war? My mother told us that a Null raiding party had come down from the hills and decimated those villages along the northern border. They were home to werecreatures. I found Sasha there in the aftermath.”

“I’m ashamed of my people’s part in that fight. The werecreatures were innocent. The Nulls were led by my father. Mages took my sister and he was determined to get her back, no matter the cost. A squadron of mages were waiting for them when they came out of the hills. Neither side cared who got caught in the crossfire. My father died in the fight.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. He and I didn’t see eye to eye on a great many things. How to rescue my sister and how to maintain peace with the mages were only a couple of them. Still, he was my father and I loved him.”

Vian thought about his own father, tucked away in one of these tents with Dem. Memories of all the time he’d spent with them, always in secret, flitted through his mind. They, along with Sasha, were his true family and he’d missed them.

He remembered now, meeting Dem when he was only a boy in the woods near the country house. Dem had shown him earth magic and treated him with respect and kindness. He remembered deciding not to tell his mother about Dem because he was afraid she’d make him give up his friend like she had so many other things in his life. He remembered growing up and visiting Dem every summer, and then one summer another man was there, as well. How could he have forgotten the disbelieving look in Zeph’s eyes when Dem had introduced them—unknowingly reuniting father and son.

“Where is your sister now?”

“Still a prisoner as far as I know.” Marcellus stared into the fire. “She was bait to draw us out and give Araminta a reason to squash us. I fell for it, too. My blood burned for revenge after my father’s death. I was foolish.”

“It’s not foolish to want to save those you love. We’ll find a way to free her and any others my mother has locked away.”

“Vian, it’s too dangerous. We are few and the Conservatory is huge and powerful.”

“They also think I’m still one of them.”

Marcellus bit his lip and rose to his feet. He walked around the fire and bent down to pick something up off the ground.

Vian realized quickly that it was his sword. How at ease did he feel that he hadn’t questioned the absence of it from his side?

“When the spell broke, so did this,” Marcellus said, holding the sword hilt first toward Vian.

The large red stone that had been inlaid in the hilt was gone. Only a couple small shards were left clinging to the edges of its setting.

“Zeph and Dem said the spell was anchored in the gem.”

“And I always have my sword close at hand.” Vian let out a deep breath. Rage should have been building up and pouring out of him, but he only felt tired. He didn’t have a clear memory of when the spell had taken hold. He remembered fighting against the Nulls on the magic scorched earth where two werecreature villages had been and sneaking into the Null camp to try and reason with Marcellus once the fighting was over. Somewhere in the middle of the next couple years, between skirmishes with the Nulls and taking every opportunity he could get to sneak off and see Sasha, Zeph, and Dem, his mother had gifted him the sword for his bravery on the battlefield. The war had continued on, but the rest of his life had ground to a halt. He’d seen the Nulls defeated, scattered, and their leader supposedly dead. His mother had used the forgetting spell to sharpen his focus to suit her needs and turned him into a weapon.

There was that rage he’d been missing. “She needs to pay for what she's done.”

“She will.”

6

Morning dawned clean and bright. The crisp bite of the air was heavily countered by Vian’s body pressed close to his under the blankets from both their bedrolls. Marcellus smiled to himself, closing his eyes against the sunlight and relishing in the solid comfort of Vian’s chest beneath his cheek and strong arm wrapped around his back.

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