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Dan watched as Vance Priest sidled up beside her, acting far too familiar for his liking. Vance snatched her game card and name badge off the table then dangled them above her head, just out of her reach. Dan felt the hair standing up on the back of his neck. Tempest didn’t take the bait. She folded her arms across her chest and waited calmly for him to give up and hand her things to her.

Good for her.

He could see Tempest was trying to be polite as she listened to whatever Vance was droning on about, but her eyes were darting back and forth, searching for an exit. He considered rescuing her, but then he remembered the humbling comment she’d written on the last entry in his book.

What are you brave enough to want, Dandelion?

She was a grown woman in a public place, and she didn’t need him to rescue her. She was doing just fine on her own.

He went and pumped himself a coffee from the carafes on the folding table that someone had set up for the contestants. The coffee was tepid and brewed way too strong, but he took a seat next to a potted plant and sipped at it anyway.

Vance’s left hand was moving. His thumb kept twirling the outer band of a ring on his middle finger. Round and round, the outer ring spun freely against the inner. It looked like an Ordinary item, a soothing device meant to calm anxiety, but Dan knew Vance didn’t suffer from anxiety. Dan’s excellent eyesight allowed him to see, just barely, the tiny blue sparks that were not the result of friction. They were a telltale sign of magic. The ring was enchanted. So, Vance Priest was right back to his cheating ways.

He watched Vance’s hand for another few seconds and looked away, considering whether he wanted to do anything about it. He’d hoped that Vance’s cheating had ceased when Will had swiped the lucky guessing stone. But of course, that was wishful thinking. Vance had already found another illegal way to give himself an edge over the other magical contestants and seasoned Ordinary folk. Dan suspected the new ring was fitted with another muddlestone.

Tempest was on the move now. She’d finally managed to excuse herself when Vance began to fiddle with his ring. Now she was moving along the far wall with her own terrible cup of coffee, her eyes steady on the cup to avoid spilling. When at last she glanced up, looking around to find a seat, she seemed startled to find Dan staring so intently at her. Startled, but not thrown.

He didn’t bother to pretend he wasn’t watching her. She didn’t hesitate to meet his eye, the hint of a challenge blazing back in her own.

There was a beat where he felt himself scoot to the edge of his seat. He could feel invisible whiskers longing to twitch and had to subdue the urge to jump to his feet. If she bolted again, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay seated. He would have to fight himself hard not to give chase.

But Tempest did not bolt from the room. She lifted her chin high, squared her shoulders, and marched straight towards him.

He wasn’t just alert now. He was hyperaware of her. He could smell her clove and cinnamon scent from across the room. The orange color of her curls was fuzzing the edge of his vision. Everything about her was making his nerves fire.

“Hi, Dan. I’m so glad to run into you,” she said. Her voice was nonchalant, but he could see the tension in her neck and shoulders that suggested something else. “I wanted to ask you about something.” She was looking at him but she wasn’t quite meeting his eyes. It was like she was staring at his chin.

“I’m on the edge of my seat.” Dan tilted his head up to her and just like that, he was plugged in. It was just the two of them. It felt like there was an electric current running between himself and the clever book witch.

He had to make himself stop calling her that. Even in his mind. It was too much of a distraction.

“I left a book behind at the bar the other night. The one we went to after the last event?” He’d wondered himself a few times. Did that really happen? Was it a date? He’d wanted it to be a date. There was a slight pause as she looked deep into his eyes. “Did you happen to see it?”

“Nope,” Dan lied, and he was sure she could see it in his eyes. Like there was some sort of banner flashing, pronouncing his guilt. He had to look away.

He took another sip of his coffee and ended up spitting it back in the cup. It was just too dreadful.

I’m lying now? Why did I just lie to her? Why didn’t I just come clean?

He’d even brought the blasted book with him. But now that she was standing in front of him, he couldn’t bring himself to give it back to her. He’d been planning on giving it back after the competition. Not before. It might make her feel better about losing, he thought, if she got her book back.

If he admitted that he’d found it, now she’d know that he knew that she’d written all that stuff to him, and he’d know that she knew he’d gone and read all her comments and just thinking about all the implications of this was all too much. Too weird.

He couldn’t afford to be all up in his head thinking about her, thinking about him, thinking about her. He had to win this tournament.

Too late.

He was already all up in his head. She was in his head.

Tempest stared unblinking at him. He looked back vacantly. Keeping his expression idling in neutral was a useful skill to have at times like this.

Finally, she folded, looking away back toward registration.

“All right then,” she said.

“What kind of book was it?” Dan asked casually. Too casually, he thought. He’d probably tipped his hand.

“Doesn’t matter. Nothing important.” Tempest moved her Styrofoam cup from one hand to the other, leaving marks with her fingernails. “If you do come across it, you’ll recognize it. It’s fully annotated with my notes. It should be obvious whose it is.”