Page 66 of The Rut in the Road

He’d taken his hands from mine, the gold in his eyes sparkling. “Thank you for that, Rayn,” he’d said softly. “I think we have the answer to our question.”

I was a life-caster. I had the ability to restore energy, to rebuild life and warmth where it had been weakened or—apparently, if Victor was any indication—taken.

With a heavy sigh, I headed down the hall to Mason’s office, rapping my knuckles on the door frame.

The big orc looked up at me over the tops of his wire-framed reading glasses. “Rayn,” he said by way of greeting. “How are you feeling today?”

I shrugged. “Worried,” I admitted.

He set down the pen he’d been using to mark something, giving me his full attention. “About what?”

“Victor,” I answered. “And me.”

“What about Victor?” Mason asked. “Is he starting to… deteriorate further?”

I shook my head. “It seems like… the opposite, actually,” I told him. “He wanted to eat last night.”

“He’s… becomingmorealive?” Mason asked, his eyebrows going up with his tone of voice.

I nodded.

“Well,thatis unexpected,” he remarked. “And fascinating. Will you bring him in tomorrow?”

I nodded. “I—” I broke off, not entirely certain how to explain my worries about myself.

“This worries you?” he asked.

I nodded again.

Mason echoed the gesture. “Yes, I can see why,” he said, although he didn’t seem to be particularly concerned about it. Or, if he was, I wasn’t able to tell. He studied me for a moment. I waited. “Did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally raised the family dog?” he asked.

“You mentioned it,” I replied. “But not the details.” I remembered that he’d said the dog hadn’t been right—that there’s been something wrong with it.

He nodded. “That’s right. I did—well, I was young. Barely older than Jackson.” He grimaced. “Mirabel had died a few weeks before, and we’d buried her in the yard.” I watched him swallow back something—emotion, maybe. “She was… not in good shape when she staggered into my room.”

I winced. “I’m sorry,” I said, since I knew that’s what you were supposed to say when someone lost a pet. I understood that losing a pet was like losing a family member, although I’d never experienced the loss of a family member I actually cared about, so it was hard to relate.

“Thanks,” came Mason’s response. “But I’m telling you because I need you to understand that what you’ve done with Victor both is and isn’t unusual.”

I frowned. “I don’t understand what that means,” I admitted.

Mason nodded once. “Accidentally resurrecting the dead can happen,” he said softly. “And I’m no death witch.”

I blinked. It was true that Mason wasn’t a death witch, and if he’d resurrected something, then it was less alarming that I had,too—death witch or not. “Because you have an affinity for life casting?” I asked him.

He nodded. “Yes. Although my capacity was not what yours appears to be.”

I frowned. “You’re stronger than I am,” I protested.

Mason smiled. “I doubt that,” he replied. “And definitely not at life casting. That’s not my primary affinity.” He drew in a breath. “But I’ll take a look at Victor—maybe have Ward do the same, or Vi, if she’s coming in tomorrow.”

“She is,” I replied. “She’s staying with me all weekend because of the gigs.” She was bringing an inflatable mattress and would be sleeping in my living room. She was also calling it a ‘slumber party,’ which I’d looked up and very much doubted would be anything like dragging ourselves back to my apartment at three in the morning, exhausted and barely fed, only to get up in the morning and start it all over again.

“That will be a bonding experience,” he remarked.

“Bonding experience?” I echoed.

“Mmmm,” he confirmed with a hum. “An experience that brings you closer together. Bonding.”