Page 55 of The Hocus Pocus Handbook

My heart thunders in my chest, burning through the energy I’ve siphoned. This mistake—I wonder if should I call it that, considering how much I enjoyed myself? Regardless, those stolen moments threaten everything I hold dear. If news of my dalliance with Kerboros gets back to the Lord of Winter, it will go badly for my dad. Fear lashes at me, but some greedy part of me also wishes Kerboros and I could pick up where we left off. Though I’ve romped with people before, I never felt like this.

I don’t know what to do about it.

“I’m clean enough,” Rosa says, breaking into my convoluted thoughts.

“Me too,” Zeph adds.

I notice Kerboros angling an intent look in my direction, but I don’t meet his gaze. And I think he’s taking that badly because when I steal a glance in his direction, his face is cast in its customary lines, all sternness and imperturbable angles. Yet, somehow, I also perceive his hurt, buried so deep, I’m not supposed to sense it.

“I shall retire too,” Kerboros declares abruptly.

“I’ll be up in a moment,” I reply.

First I need to speak with Tara. If I can find her. Earlier, she said she needed to convince her family, meaning her father, about accompanying me on this journey. But I don’t think her parents dislike me enough to drive me out if I knock on their door.

To convey the illusion of relaxation, I linger in the water until everyone leaves, and then I dry off in a hurry, dress, and head to the family quarters on the other side of the public house. They have self-contained rooms; at least that’s what Tara told me when we were younger. I’ve never visited, but I suspect I can find it, based on her stories. I follow my memories as best I can, and once I arrive at the suite I hope is theirs, I rap lightly, hoping Tara answers and not her father. Fortune favors me, as she appears and steps outside, putting a finger to her mouth.

“Mum just dragged the old man to bed,” she whispers.

“Do you have a moment to talk?” I ask.

“Of course,” she says. “But we shouldn’t stay up too late.”

I fully agree with that, but the turmoil in my heart makes it difficult for me to settle. Tara leads me back into the tavern, now closed for the night. She pours us both drinks, cider for me, proving that she pays attention to the details. Before she can ask, I spill everything. By the time I finish, my voice is trembling and tears stand in my eyes.

She takes my hand. “Thea. Breathe. Now listen to me…you have no relationship with this Devan. I’ve heard rumors, and I’ve comforted more than one heartbroken soul. Devan’s a relentless flirt and seducer! Don’t give it a second thought. You’re essentially a captive, and you had no choice. You only agreed to this mess because they threatened to banish you. And because they might hurt your dad.”

“But that’s why I think I’m horrible,” I protest, hoping she’ll understand.

My dad is my whole world. I can’t believe I fooled around with Kerboros in the bath and risked Da’s safety like this. If anyone was spying—

“From what I know of your father,” Tara says, calmly cutting off my dire thoughts, “he’d be sad that you feel guilty. Mudge wants you to be happy, whatever that entails.”

“Where he wants me to be happy, I need him to be safe.”

“In an ideal world,” she says in a sorrowful tone.

I don’t know if Tara’s implying that it’s impossible for both to coexist—my happiness and Da’s safety—but she’s never been one to sugarcoat things. And I can deal only with the reality I live in. I sigh over a sip of cider, realizing this can’t be fixed with a confession, though it helps to hear she doesn’t think I’m awful.

“Thanks for listening.”

“Are you really not planning to tell me more about the steamy bath action?” she asks, waggling a roguish brow.

I let the silence build as I finish my drink. “It was the best kiss of my life.” Then I amend, “Several of them, actually. How about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

A shadow flickers in her usually cheerful demeanor. “I was. But Tempest broke it off rather suddenly. These days, I don’t know what’s going on with them at all.”

My eyes widen. “Tempest? They told us how to find you but didn’t mention…” I trail off, unsure how to phrase the rest.

“That we used to be together?” Tara guesses.

“Yeah. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

She tries to smile, but I can see she’s still sad about it. I round the table and offer a hug, which she accepts, squeezing me until my ribs ache. I rub Tara’s back gently, holding on until she lets go. Da taught me that, along with everything else. You don’t tap. You don’t fidget. You let the person you’re hugging decide when you’re done.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She sighs. “Maybe at some point. Tonight? Not really.”