7. Vera
Vera
Ikar was most definitely not joking. A wave of putrid blue air belches from the large keyhole of a door down the hall. Jethonan hurries ahead of us to insert the key and turns the lock with a click.
I slow my steps with a frown, unwilling to go any closer until I know what that smell is coming from.
Ikar comes from behind me, places my hand on his arm, and clasps his larger hand over mine in such a gentlemanly way that I wouldn’t have known he was teasing if not for the look in his eye.
He guides me toward the rolling mounds of blue-tinged air now escaping the room before us through the wide-open door.
He leans down and whispers near my ear. “I did warn you.”
He smells incredible, like I knew he would. I’m suddenly flustered and feeling too warm to think properly.
“As good friends do,” I say, attempting to get my mind and body on the same page.
Friends.
And there he is, still too close. “Is that what we are?”
Jethonan saves me from becoming a blubbering idiot by opening the door wider and summoning us into the room. I step away from Ikar, acting unaffected, while I wonder what he meant. Did he sound pleased that I called us friends, or was he implying we’re more?
I cough as I enter Jethonan’s office, then hold my breath as I wave a hand before my face to try to clear some of the fog away. It does nothing. I have no choice but to inhale or pass out—on the bright side, maybe it’ll dye my dress blue.
“Is this the weapon?” I ask. “‘Cause I think it’s ready.”
Jethonan laughs. “No, no. This is simply a byproduct of the chemical process.” Clinks and clanks come from the far side of the room, followed by what sounds like a book thudding on a wood desk, but everything’s fuzzy through the fog.
I turn to find Ikar forcing open a window and leaning slightly out for clean air before he moves to the next.
Rupi makes a sound that I can only describe as a tiny sneeze before she flutters from his shoulder to one of the now-open windows, searching desperately for fresh air.
“You know, the temperature in this room is a delicate balance. You never ask before you swing those open, and you may one day ruin one of my projects,” Jethonan scolds, even as he’s bent over something on the table.
“You may one day ruin me if you don’t find a way to clear this room on occasion,” Ikar responds dryly. “How do you know this blue stuff won’t hurt us?”
Jethonan waves that question off with his hand. “I’ve been breathing it all week, and I’m still alive.”
I look toward Ikar with concern, but he’s busy making himself comfortable in a cushy armchair near a bookshelf, settling into its back with his legs spread wide and relaxed. He sighs so deeply that it causes the blue air to billow around his face temporarily. He doesn’t appear too worried.
Finally Jethonan finishes tinkering with a glass contraption I have no name for and calls me over, proceeding to give me a short tour of the many projects he has in progress.
They’re interesting, to be sure, but I’m more entertained by Jethonan’s antics and the passion in his expression as he explains details I’ll never actually understand.
When he’s finished, he leaves me to browse while he speaks with Ikar about someone’s journal.
Rupi joins me on my shoulder, and I stroke her soft white fluff as I tune out their voices and return to one project that caught my eye during his short tour.
I lean down until my eyes are level with a glass vase-like container with a lid that contains a portion of misty gloam.
Rupi leans forward, same as I, as I reach a finger up and tap it.
It reacts by swirling furiously, and swiftly begins to form the shape of a tiny deathstalker.
I tap it again, and it viciously attempts to attack me against the glass, snarling and clawing.
Deathstalkers are terrifying creatures. But feeling brave with that wall of glass between us, I touch it again.
It feels cold as ice now, and frosty. I’ve never actually tried to attack gloam—I merely defend myself while sending magic to whatever hunter I’m currently working for—but my lucent orbs have deterred gloam creatures before, and I’m curious what this little guy will do.
The protection of the glass jar between us boosts my confidence as I bend closer, come a little nearer, and align my nose with its face.
I lift an inquisitive finger and pull lucent, tapping where the tiny deathstalker snarls against the glass.
The moment my lucent finger and its snarling form meet against the glass, the miniature deathstalker implodes, and I instinctively jerk away.
All that’s left are shreds and bits of gloam that are already fading.
I look at my finger, then back at the now-empty jar. That was unexpected. I look at Rupi who stares at me with wide eyes. I silently curse and spin around with the jar behind my back, instantly becoming the epitome of innocence. I ruined Jethonan’s project.
I bite my lip, trying to decide what to do. Act normal. I sidestep and hurry to another project I’d seen that looked interesting, promising myself I won’t mess with this one.
From the corner of my eye, I see Jethonan grabbing a glass vial filled with what looks like purple sand.
“Here is the weapon I’ve been preparing for you.
It appears small, but I assure you it is quite powerful.
” He begins walking toward this side of the room, and I stand, clasping my hands behind my back like I should have been doing all along.
Jethonan stops before the vase-jar and motions for Ikar to join him. “Come, I’ll show you how it works.”
Ikar stands and makes his way over while panic builds.
No. Not that one. I cringe a little as he bends down to inspect it and finds the gloam gone. He taps it, just like I did. But this time, nothing happens.
I killed it.
“Very strange, but my gloam specimen is missing.” Jethonan inspects the lid and finds it secure, then leans down to search the glass again, tapping here and there.
He stands, and now he’s tilted his head to the side and looks at me like I’m a project.
He looks at me so long that I start to fidget with the fabric of my dress.
“Everything okay?” Ikar asks.
Jethonan startles as if the deepest of thoughts were interrupted. “Yes… Yes, fine.” He speculatively eyes me once more.
I will myself to stay calm. He can’t know. That would be crazy. No one can just know what I am like that. I didn’t even tell him I’m the one that killed it. But I know when it’s time to take my leave, and that time is now. Before anything else weird happens.
“Well, I’ll be going. Need to get plenty of rest before we leave tomorrow. Meet at the stables, right?” I smile gingerly.
Ikar nods with one brow raised as if he’s confused by my abrupt departure. I bow awkwardly and rush for the door.