Page 135 of Of Iron and Moonlight

Until now he had not grasped how much of himself he had truly surrendered to that fire. Without her future entwined with his, he could imagine a life no longer dictated by the shame others pressed upon his blood. His mixed heritage, once a wound he explained away, no longer felt like a defect to endure.

It felt uncharted.

The key bit into his palm again, pulling him back. It was thin, unremarkable. Yet now it felt almost symbolic. Forged for a lock he had once believed unreachable. Whatever waited beyond remained uncertain, but the uncertainty no longer stirred dread. It brought possibility. It inspired hope.

Njall pushed himself upright, dressed, and left the chamber behind.

The corridors lay mostly deserted at this hour. He moved through them quickly, senses alert for the slightest shift of air, the scrape of claw or ring of armor.

As he searched for Elara.

Chapter 64

Njall

“Did you know, if you combine tshavi root with a hint of marrowmint, you get an ointment that itches mildly and looks exactly like redscale?” Elara asked by way of greeting, without looking up from the mortar she was grinding. She and Kalaetzu, conspirators in mischief and escape, stood bent over a clutter of potions burbling in mismatched glassware.

“The lady deduced it herself,” Kalaetzu added, pushing unruly, greying copper hair from his forehead.

She dabbed a bit onto the back of her hand and held it up for Njall to see. Red dots bloomed across her skin like tiny embers catching flame.

Njall recoiled slightly. “Should that be anywhere near a living body?”

“Don’t worry!” she said cheerfully. “It’s harmless. Just unpleasant. It fades in minutes.”

Njall lowered himself on the bench opposite them, still hesitant to get too close. “And why, exactly, are we inventing such a miserable substance?”

“Imagine the possibilities,” Elara replied with a bright smile. She scratched absently at her hand, then turned back to her work. “Unfortunately, our invisibility salve still isn’t behaving. That will be better for sneaking objects past watchful eyes.”

“We’ll refine it,” Kalaetzu said thoughtfully. “Perhaps more veilflower, less wintervine.”

“Brilliant,” Elara breathed, already darting for new ingredients.

Njall surveyed the assortment of crushed leaves, glowing liquids, and unnamed substances scattered across the table. “I cannot believe you can tell any of these apart. I would mistake one for jelly and perish before realizing my error.”

“Your greater mistake is accepting fish jelly as food,” Elara shot back without missing a beat.

Njall laughed, the sound unexpected in the chamber but welcome. He let them work in their easy rhythm for a moment longer, reluctant to disturb it, before shifting the air around their corner of the room, muffling it from the rest of the laboratory.

“I brought something for each of you,” he said.

From his pocket he produced a small iron ring and held it out. “This is for you, Elara.”

Relief came the instant Elara accepted it and the metal left Njall’s skin. She inspected it thoroughly before sliding it onto her finger and closing her hand into a small, determined fist. It was dull beside the silver ring she wore on her pinky, but its presence comforted him with the knowledge that she was protected in some small way.

“It will not shield you from everything, and only from external magic,” Kalaetzu cautioned, “but it may give you a chance.”

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Truly.”

Njall smiled faintly, then lifted his other hand. “And this is for you.”

Kalaetzu went utterly still. His green eyes fixed on the key with the longing of someone who had watched freedom hover just out of reach for years. Even so, he did not move.

“Incredible,” Elara whispered.

Njall placed the key carefully on the table.

Kalaetzu’s eyes followed the movement, shining. “You found it.”