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Roan and I dress quickly and make our way to the tavern to meet our friends. Because of the early hour, the tavern is empty of anyone except for an older fae couple staying in one of the rooms. They are happily ensconced in one of the booth nooks and wave when they see me, both pulling me in for a hug to welcome me back, safe and whole.
The wife, Jacinta, holds my hands tightly in hers as she gushes her relief at my safe return. Even her husband claps me on the back repeatedly. I only met them once before, but they are soeffusive in their well wishes. It makes me blush painfully until I manage to escape and get to our table.
“Our” being everyone minus Seldon, who is still asleep in one of the employee rooms. They used to be known as the servants quarters, but Mauvy and Roan nixed the name when they took over. It’s where Mauvy’s rooms are, and any of the staff can sleep there if they are working a late shift and don’t want to drive home.
It was a flurry of crushing, squeezing hugs and whispers of gratitude and love when we all reconvened. It had taken more than a moment to pull ourselves together, but we managed, eventually crowding around one of the long wooden tables, clutching cups of coffee.
While everyone had been interrupting my morning orgasm, Mauvy had been busy cooking up a feast—her second of the morning, apparently. Bacon, eggs, toast, and fruit are laid out in front of us. I surreptitiously shoved the plate of bacon away from me, the smell uncomfortably reminiscent of the scent of Darius’s burnt flesh. The memory was a little too fresh. Instead, I take a sip of the coffee in my hands, letting the warmth fill me while we wait for Edith to finish her mouthful of food and say what she has to say.
She makes the hand rolling gesture like she is hurrying and swallows with a big gulp.
“So yesterday.” She pausesagainfor a slurp of coffee. “I think you have some explaining to do.”
Butterflies swarm in my stomach when all eyes fall on me. My brother raises an eyebrow, and I can see he is literally biting his tongue so he doesn’t jump in. Seff has no such reservations. Shooting a frown at Edith, he leans towards me.
“But only if you’re up to it. Yesterday would have been traumatic, and we don’t want to push you.” He might have been speaking to me, but the words were definitely directed at Edith.She just scoffs and waves off Seff’s rebuke. I smile at them both and lean into Roan next to me on the bench seat.
“It’s fine. I, uh, yeah. Darius is—was—my ex.” I heave a sigh, trying to untangle my thoughts.
I don’t even know where to begin; it all feels like a tangled mess. But then Roan’s big hand squeezes above my knee, and I look up to meet his eyes. His smile eases the nervous twisting inside me, the weight of him beside me tethering me to right now, reminding me that no matter what I have to say, they and, most importantly,hewill still love me.
And so I tell them. Everything. At length.
From the first day I ran into Darius at the university, to our shitty relationship, to my nightmares and his messages, to my rekindled powers, and, eventually, after approximately a thousand hours of talking, everything that happened at the top of the Falls.
Halfway through my monologue, Seldon joins us at the table, still half-asleep. He gives me a half hug around my shoulders and kisses my head before dropping onto one of the vacant stools. Once he has a mug of coffee, he joins the others, listening intently. The mages follow not too long after, Tarook, Alain, and Alesander nodding while the others pull another table closer so they can listen to my story.
Every so often, someone tries to interject with a question, but they are quickly smacked down. More than one person threatens to reanimate Darius’s remains so they can kill him again.
But most importantly, I manage to get it out.Allof it out.
By the time I am done, I am emotionally wrung out, tears staining my cheeks, the bruises on my chest aching, the burns itching. Roan’s fingers are digging hard enough into my thigh that I know that I’m going to have more bruises there, too, but I don’t pry his fingers off just yet. There is silence when I’m donetalking, everyone processing the avalanche of information I just dumped on them.
“Father must be pissed.” There is a cheeky glint to Tor's face that I can’t help but mirror.
“It’s almost enough to make me want to go back and see him. I can’t even imagine Mother’s reaction.” My cheeks hurt from smiling, my body not quite ready for mirth just yet. But it’s worth it to see the pleasure in my brother's face when he chuckles.
“Setting aside your previously terrible taste in men, how did Darius manage to mask his magic so well?” Edith's voice is hard, like Darius’s abilities are a personal slight.
I am saved from answering when Tarook clears his throat from the mages’ end table. “I think I can answer that one, if you will, Theo?” My head bounces like a bobblehead, eager to get the attention off myself.
Tarook nods gracefully, rearranging his body so his cloak swirls around him melodramatically. “Alesander managed to recover some items during Theo’s rescue. There was a book of magic there.Old magic. The kind thought to be lost with the clans that once resided here. But magic is never truly lost, only ever hidden. Darius descended from those mages, and his line had practised in secret.
“Between the knowledge of his father’s people and the magic shown to him by his witch mother, Darius would have beenindescribablypowerful. There were notes, accountings of spells in that book, not just those he had inherited but those he had collected along the way…. When I say that we are lucky that he used his powers for something as asininely mundane asmoney, I mean we arelucky. He could have wreaked untold havoc not just in this land but across the world.”
My mouth drops open at Tarook’s fervent warning, and I’m not the only one. Collectively, we exchange glances, a ripple of disquiet moving through us all.
Until Edith leans forward, a leer on her face.
“And what, my darling Tarook, would a girl have to do to have a little read of this book?” She bats her eyes at the Head Mage, biting her lip provocatively. And to her credit, despite being the personification of chaos energy, it works for her.
It’s the same uncomfortable feeling you get when you realise other people think your mum is hot.
Magic wafts off her in waves. Tarook, to his credit, stands firm against her charms, his angular face contorting into a genial smile.
“Not on your life, witch. We just narrowly missed one apocalypse—we’re not risking another.” Across from me, Seff’s eyes go comically wide, and the colour drains from his face.
“You’re messing around, right?” Tarook winks at Seff’s horrified face, a not-at-all-comforting gesture.
