After a few hours of entertaining Mr. Nevio, Minerva and I returned home with our basket freshly filled with Milo’s tunnel-grown potatoes, carrots, ginger, and a few onions. The sorcerer had been... interesting company. He wasn’t particularly outgoing or charismatic like Minerva was, but was rather stoic and serious. It was understandable that he would feel so lifeless after living in solitude for so long, but it perplexed me that Minerva had favored him so highly. Perhaps they were both simply lonely. If Sybettal was full of one thing, it was outcasts...
When we returned to the cottage, I began to appreciate the structure with new eyes. Mr. Nevio had supposedly built the sturdy home. According to Minerva, they had met when she was in search of a new home, and the two of them had struck a bargain. I wasn’t entirely filled-in on the full terms of their deal, but supposedly, Minerva had exchanged something for Mr. Nevio’s talents. It apparently took many months to build, since Mr. Nevio could only work at night when the sun was absent. The beautiful stone walls certainly held the elegance of a skilled craftsman, so I found myself slightly more impressed by the sullen man.
Just as we stepped inside, a soft drizzle began to flow from the sky. We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting by the fire and drinking countless pots of tea. Each time Minerva stepped away, I slyly pocketed scavenged medical supplies and extra morsels of food. I was nearly caught when I was picking through her tea herbs for anything medicinal, but easily played it off as if I was looking to brew a new blend. She nodded sweetly, then turned her back to refill the teapot. In the instant she did, I palmed a clump of ginger and a sprig of dried echinacea.
Another pot of tea later, the rain had progressed to a steady shower, and I found my thoughts continuously circling back to Kian.I hope he’s alright out there.The rain wasn’t nearly as aggressive as the previous week, but the cold would only worsen his fever. When I was finally alone in my room for the night, I emptied my pockets and stashed all my acquired goods into a small canvas sack I had swiped from Mr. Nevio’s home. It had been wadded up underneath the cushion of his sofa, so I didn’t think he would miss it too dearly. Plus, I had swiped it when he stepped out of the room, and it was fully possible he could see my movements through the tunnel walls. If he wanted to stop me, he was fully capable.
Early the next morning, I snuck out while Minerva was still asleep. The fresh round of rain darkened the sky, so she would likely sleep in fairly late. If she awoke before I returned, then I would simply explain that I was gathering water or more firewood. If she tried to question why I didn’t tell her first, I could admit I’d feared she would be against the idea of me wandering out into the rain. She wouldn’t be very happy with me if the situation arose, but at least she wouldn’t be aware of my true agenda.
The fresh morning air tasted sweet and damp under the blanket of pattering rain. After taking one brief glance back at the quiet cottage, I silently skittered through the clear puddles toward Kian’s hidden nook. I had expected to find him sleeping at this hour, but when I arrived, I was instantly greeted by an excited pair of gray eyes.
Kian sat huddled in front of his shrinking fire, with his knees tucked close to his chest. When he looked up at me and smiled, I noticed the faint chatter in his teeth. Guilt tore through me at the pitiful sight, and I dashed over to crouch underneath the overhang with him.
“How are you feeling?” I asked with urgency, quickly setting my sack of stolen goods onto the ground. “You look a little paler than yesterday. Did you manage to get any sleep?”
Kian managed a weak laugh. “Sleep? Nah, I had too much on my mind for such a trivial thing. Plus, this blasted rain makes it a tad difficult to get comfortable.” His tone was light-hearted, but his words stuttered as his teeth rattled from the cold.
I looked around the ground and quickly understood what he meant. There were a few rocky patches that repelled the rainwater, but the rest of the dirt was muddy and damp. If he had laid out flat, his wound likely would have only become more tainted.
I bit my lip, trying to think through any solutions while simultaneously digging through my sack. “Here, eat this.” I stuck a crumbly biscuit on top of his quivering knees, then pulled out a small metal cup I had borrowed from the cottage. “Fill this up with water and let it boil by the fire. I’ll make you some tea when I get back.” I picked up the dagger Kian had left resting by the fire and moved to leave again.
Kian opened his mouth to detest, but I was already on my feet before he could state his objections. The rain was far less overwhelming than the last time I had wandered the woods, so it was much easier to take in my surroundings. I had never been exceptionally strong, so when I tried to saw off a thin limb of a stunted birch tree, I found myself straining in a rather ungraceful manner. The dagger did a fine job of weakening the branch’s base, but the difficult part was trying to snap off the connection with my puny stature. On my final pull, the limb broke free, scratching a thin cut across my palm. The blood washed off easily in the rain, so I set off for another tree limb that was within my reach and began to break that one as well.
After an embarrassing amount of struggling, I had successfully collected a sizable armload of tree limbs, each nearly as tall as myself. When I returned to Kian with my fresh bounty, I was pleased to see he had obeyed my orders and consumed the biscuit.
His eyes widened as he gazed at the large collection of branches I’d acquired. “Goodness, I didn’t think we’d need so much firewood.”
I rolled my eyes, wondering if his fever was too high for rational thinking or if he was truly this oblivious. “It’s not for the fire, birdbrain,” I retorted. “it’s for a bed. Now watch closely, because I won’t have time to finish building it for you. I need to be back at the cottage before it gets light out.”
“You’re just making a basic pallet, aren’t you?” He sounded almost impressed.
I nodded. “Correct. Have you made one before?” He shifted closer, inspecting the wood I had acquired. When he grew nearer, he ended up leaning over my shoulder to get a closer view. His warm breath tickled the side of my neck, and I felt a rush of heat fill my cheeks.I’m trying to help you! Stop being so handsome!
He reached around me, picking up a branch and the dagger. “I haven’t, but it seems simple enough. You just cut notches into the wood to rest the other sticks in, right? And then build it in the shape of a ladder?” His curious hands twiddled with the wood, running his hands along the smooth parts as if inspecting it for the best place to create a notch.
“That’s right,” I murmured, watching his movements with fascination. “It won’t be particularly comfortable, but it will at least keep you off the ground. Have you done much building before?”
My question caused Kian to nearly drop the branch, his hands halting their curious exploration. “Ah, yes, but not much furniture, I’m afraid.” He lowered his gaze to the ground, and I wondered why he was being so dismissive.
“What did you craft, then?” I questioned as I simultaneously blended the echinacea and ginger into the boiling metal cup. There were plenty of craftsmen in Sybettal, so it shouldn’t be surprising that he was handy.
“Well, I never did much hands-on crafting, per se.” His voice was tentative and slow, as if he was cautiously choosing his words. He ran a hand through his dark hair, tousling the greasy locks. “I was always more of a researcher... a blueprint creator, if you will. I may not have done much crafting, but I’ve always been fascinated with the process of creation. You can change a lot about a weapon just by the way it’s been assembled.”
“A weapon?” My finger stiffened around the clump of ginger. I met Kian’s eyes and felt my blood run cold as I noticed the sheer panic in his eyes.What had he just let slip?“Kian, who were you researching weapons for?” My voice shook, as his panic spread to me. My eyes darted toward the dagger that was still in his grip.
He caught sight of my gaze firmly on the weapon and instantly dropped it, sliding it in my direction. “Nixie, I—” His mouth opened, but no words came out. A touch of my panic melted away once he relinquished the dagger.He didn’t intend to harm me, at least.
I took a deep breath. “Kian, I know you’re keeping things from me, and you have the right to do so.” I paused, noticing an unidentifiable shift in his expression. “All I need to know is if I can trust you. I’m in a dangerous situation at the moment, and you’re the only person who knows the full story. You saved my life, and I hope to protect yours, but if I should be running from you... Well, I need to know now.”
Our eyes locked. Kian’s face was swirling with a hurricane of ever-changing emotions. He looked panicked, pleased, hopeful, and terrified all in that one moment. I desperately wanted to know what thoughts were pulsating through his mind, but he never spoke a single word. The elongated pause began to dig a fear into me that I should have been wary of him all along.If he can’t definitively say that I could trust him, then why had he allowed me to get so close?
Kian let out a deep breath, as if he had just completed a full coliseum of internal battles. To my surprise, he reached out and placed his hand atop mine, his icy fingers clutching mine. “Nixie, you can trust me, because I have no intention of hurting you...” His hand tightened onto mine. “But you shouldn’t trust me, because I might hurt you anyway.” He released my hand, then turned his attention back toward the fire as if our conversation had been as casual as any other.
My gaze never left his as my head swirled into a blizzard of terrifying thoughts.What is that supposed to mean? I can trust him, but I shouldn’t? And why does he expect to hurt me?Without any exchange of words, I finished brewing his tea and fished out the softened clump of ginger with a twig.
“Do you trust me?” I don’t know where the question came from, but I couldn’t prevent myself from speaking it. I felt his gaze fall onto me, but I kept my head lowered and focused my attention on mashing the ginger and herbs into a paste for his wound.
“My father taught me to only trust myself...” I couldn’t help but look up at him. This was the first time he’d ever spoken of his family. He let out a heavy breath, wincing as he did so. “I’m starting to realize that a lot of the things he taught me aren’t as true as I thought.” He looked into my eyes with pure vulnerability. It was like looking into the face of a wounded child. The gray color in his eyes seemed to lighten, as if a shadow that had previously clouded his vision had finally lifted. “I do trust you Nixie, but I have no right to.”