Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
A s we walked through the long hallways of the inn, a number of workers scurried past, most of them young, all bearing eyes in shades of Lumnos blue. There were so many of them—far more than an inn of this size warranted.
Luther watched them with rapt interest. He seemed to be studying each of their faces in search of something. He was so distracted, he nearly collided into the woman when she stopped.
“Suite 10,” she announced, unlocking a door and pushing it open. “You’re very lucky. It’s our nicest room.”
I frowned. The other rooms we’d passed were clearly numbered, with brightly lit orbs floating over the entry. This door was blank, nondescript, and cloaked in darkness. Though I tried to peer inside, there was nothing illuminating the ominous space.
“The room is rather... dark,” I said carefully. “Perhaps another room would be more—”
Before I could finish, the woman snapped her fingers at two older children nearby, a boy and a girl. As they dashed past me to enter, the feeling of another strong aura breezed over my skin. I could feel that it was young, but deep in its potential.
I raised an eyebrow at Luther in silent inquiry: Did you feel that? His lips pressed tight as he gave a subtle nod.
Within seconds, the children had adorned the suite with bouquets of luminescent flowers that bathed each room in a soft glow. Once lit, the space looked normal enough—a large sitting area, lined with bookshelves and packed with cozy settees, flanked on each side by twin bedrooms.
Luther nudged past me and stepped inside. His eyes swept over the room as he paced in an arc along the walls. He paused at the dining table and ran his fingers over a few of the light-made flowers, causing flecks of light and shadow to bob along the ceiling.
“These are lovely.” He turned to the two children, his demeanor warming. “The details are impressive. I hardly know any Descended your age in Lumnos who could craft something so intricate.”
The children looked at each other, proud grins bursting across their faces.
He walked over and kneeled to bring himself to their eye level, then pulled several gold coins from his pouch. “May I buy two more of them from you?”
Their blue eyes bulged at the extravagant sum. They nodded excitedly and set to work fashioning a pair of long-stemmed dahlias. Rather than each making one, their magic wove in harmony to craft the blooms together. Each row of tiny petals was edged with glimmering blue light and faded to a shadowy center.
When they were done, they handed the flowers to Luther with bashful smiles. He hummed his approval. “Using your magic in tandem like that is a very rare skill. Are you family?”
The girl wrinkled her nose, and the boy smirked. “Nah, just friends. I’ve only got light, but she can do both, so she helps me sometimes. She can mix her magic with anyone.”
“Interesting.” Luther studied the girl more carefully. “You must have a very good tutor.”
She perked up. “We do. The best in Umbros. We practice every day.”
The boy nodded. “Zalaric says we have to keep our magic strong just in case we—”
“That’s enough,” the woman at my side blurted out. She beckoned for them to join her. “Come along, let’s leave our guests to their room.”
Luther frowned at her, though he didn’t argue. He placed a gold coin in each of the children’s hands, then leaned forward to whisper in the girl’s ear. Her mouth sprung open, her eyebrows shooting up.
She pulled back and gaped at him. “Really? The Queen of Lumnos? ”
“Of course. I know Her Majesty very well.” He tucked one of the flowers behind the girl’s ear, then waved the other one. “I’ll take this back to Lumnos to show her. Bring one just like it to the palace, and my Queen will know I sent you.”
“Could I...” She bit her lip and glanced at the boy at her side. “Could I bring a friend with me?”
He smiled, a rare sight in the presence of strangers. “Bring as many as you’d like. The Queen will welcome you all.”
The girl squealed and threw her arms around Luther’s neck. As he returned her embrace, his eyes met mine with a knowing gleam, and my heart somersaulted in my chest.
The woman stiffened beside me. “He should not give them such hopes,” she said quietly. “They cannot ever go back to Lumnos.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“They would be executed if they returned.”
My breath caught as understanding crested over me. Luther’s secret contact, my mother’s involvement, all the blue-eyed Descended...
These were not just any children.
These were the half-mortals Luther and my mother had smuggled out of Lumnos. And with what he’d just done, he had given them a path to come home —and the promise that their Queen would accept them with open arms.
Warmth surged through me, my chest squeezing tight. As I watched Luther talk with the two children and surreptitiously shove a few more coins into their pockets, the depths of my feelings for him overcame me.
Suddenly, the kind of commitment I’d always feared no longer felt so alarming. A life with this man—this kind, selfless, fiercely loving man, who had been fighting for the vulnerable with zero fanfare and at great personal risk long before I ever met him, who believed in me and my dream and was willing to sacrifice everything for it, who would walk to the ends of the continent and back just to put the briefest smile on my face—I didn’t just envision a future with him. I wanted it.
“He’s right,” I said, a little hoarsely. “The new Queen will welcome them. She’d never allow them to be executed—nor any other half-mortal.”
“That’s a big gamble.” The woman faced me directly, her tone turning nosey. “How do you two know so much about what the Queen would do?”
“I don’t,” I rushed out. “But he does. The two of them are...” I forced down a lump in my throat. “... close . If he says she’ll do something, she’ll do it.”
The children finally ran past us into the hallway, giggling. Luther’s face had a contentment to it I hadn’t seen on him in days. I crossed the room, lured in like a fish on a line, unable to stop my fingers from stretching out to brush his as I returned to his side.
“Take some time to settle in,” the woman called out. “I’ll send up ale and hot food.”
“That’s generous, but we don’t intend to st—”
Before Luther could finish, the door shut, followed by a loud click and fading footsteps.
His eyes narrowed.
But my gaze was fixed only on him, my heart still reeling. “These children—they’re the ones you’ve saved, aren’t they?”
He stared at the flower in his hand. “That little girl looked so familiar... it took me a moment to realize why.” A muscle feathered on his cheek. “I got her out, but her mortal mother decided to stay behind.”
I recoiled. “She gave her daughter up?”
“The girl was the product of an affair. The mother had three mortal children already, and she was afraid that if her husband found out, he would take the others and leave.” He gave me a hard look. “It wasn’t a choice she made lightly.”
I bit back my judgment. I knew well the ugly choices the mortal women of Lumnos were forced into making. “That little girl’s aura...”
“I know. If it’s that strong already, by the time she matures, she’ll be quite formidable. She could be a valuable ally to you when she’s older.”
I laid a hand on his arm. “But that’s not why you invited her to return to Lumnos, is it?”
He stared at it, something indecipherable passing across his eyes. “No, it isn’t.” He pulled down my hood and gently brushed back a wavy lock of hair hanging over my eyes, still damp from the rainstorm we’d escaped in Ignios. He tucked the flower the girl had created behind my ear. “They should all come home. I’ll make sure the Jaguar knows they can, if they wish.”
My heart felt near to bursting. I lifted to my toes and pressed a kiss to his stubble-lined cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch, his hand slipping beneath my cloak and curving around my ribs.
We stayed there for a moment, temple to temple, the press of his fingertips ever so gently pulling me closer. An undeniable sense of longing burned off him—the waning patience of his desire, the desperate need to claim me as his and never let go. My own restraint was wearing thin. In the quiet solitude of the room, with no one to disturb us, I found my lips grazing his jaw, my fingers roaming over his waist.
Abruptly, he pulled away and gave me his back, walking to the table and offloading his satchel.
I flinched at the sudden emptiness against my skin. “Luther, is everything—”
“The man at the front—did you feel his magic?” His voice was strained, unsteady.
“Yes, I did.” I started toward him. “Luther...”
“He’s powerful, too. Perhaps the strongest Lumnos Descended I’ve ever felt, other than King Ulther.”
“Stronger than me?”
“No. You...” His hands stilled. “You’re in a class of your own. In every way.”
It sounded more like a warning than a compliment.
I shrugged off my pack and set it on the table. “Are you going to tell Alixe or Taran?”
“Not unless there’s a reason they need to know.” He shot me a loaded look. “There’s an unspoken rule that those of us who can sense power levels keep that knowledge to ourselves.”
“Why?”
“Because information can be as dangerous as magic. That’s precisely what makes the Umbros Queen such a threat.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Why? Do you wish to tell them?”
I hesitated, then let out a heavy sigh. “Back in Lumnos, you and I agreed to give each other honesty. I confess, I haven’t entirely been upholding that.”
Luther looked away.
“It’s not because I don’t trust you,” I rushed out, guilt knotting in my stomach. “My entire life has been about secrets. Some I’ve kept, some kept from me. I went along with it because I thought I had to in order to stay alive—and because, until you, I had no one I felt safe enough to share them all with. Keeping things to myself has become second nature. I know you of all people understand that.”
I reached for him, and he tensed.
The knot inside me jerked tighter. “These past few days, I’ve seen how much these secrets are driving us all apart. Not just us, but Alixe and Taran, Teller, everyone we care about. Our pact for brutal honesty has to include them, too. The truth about my mother, the Guardians, the half-mortals... it will all come out eventually, and when it does, it’s going to hurt ten times more because we lied to them.”
“Withholding information is not lying,” he said, sounding almost defensive. “Taran and Alixe understand that I have to keep things from them. They trust me to tell them when the time is right. I feel the same way toward you.”
I gave a small, sardonic smile. “Because you were so understanding when I didn’t tell you my plan to sneak back into Arboros?”
He bristled. “That was different.”
“Was it?”
“Yes. I—I wasn’t—it wasn’t about...” He raked a hand down his face, his shoulders falling. “It doesn’t matter. You’re right. You need a group of allies you can be honest with. Once we’re in Lumnos, we’ll gather everyone together and...”
I frowned as his voice trailed off and his eyes turned distant.
This wasn’t Luther. He wasn’t a man who stumbled over his words and lost himself in thought. He’d always been confident, impeccably controlled. Even the rare few times he’d come unbound, each glimpse behind his walls had been focused, precise, a sunbeam through a magnifying glass. In those moments, his feelings—good or bad—had been knee-wobblingly clear.
But the man in front of me now... his mind was in turmoil, that much was evident, but the what and why were a mystery.
“Luther, what’s going on? Is this about Taran? I’m not pretending anymore—I really do think he’s going to heal.” I teasingly rolled my eyes. “I had a moment of weakness and asked Lumnos to save him. I suppose I’ll finally have to make peace with her after all.”
I’d expected him to look pleased, or at least relieved, but the misery hiding beneath his features only burrowed deeper.
He darted around me, heading for the door. “I’m going to find the Jaguar and ask him to book our passage. You stay here, get some r—”
He slammed against an invisible wall and staggered backward. He frowned and extended his hand. Though he was several feet from the door, his palm seemed to hit something, and a faint ripple wavered through the air.
“A shield,” he growled. “They’ve locked us in.”