Chapter 30 Kasira #2
“Kas?” May’s soft voice carried easily in the quiet Eyrie. She had a basket over one arm, the scent of freshly baked bread making Kasira’s stomach growl. May settled beside her on the grass, moving slowly so as not to startle Gievra.
“What are the odds that Allaster sent that as a peace offering?” Kasira asked dryly.
“About as likely as him apologizing.”
Kasira sighed, sitting upright. “He’s more stubborn than an Alkatir.”
“Tinder and spark,” May reminded her, and Kasira’s lips curved in a wry smile. It felt a lifetime ago that May had said that to her, and like before, here she was, playing peacemaker.
“I’m sorry for putting you in the middle of this again,” Kasira said and meant it. Regardless of her goal, she didn’t enjoy distressing May, and it wasn’t the First Mage’s responsibility to sort things out between them.
May was silent for a moment before she said, “Let me be very clear. I care for both you and Allaster, but that isn’t the only reason why I continue to facilitate your relationship.
My duty as First Mage is to aid the Assistant and Librarian in defense of the Library, and I’m nothing if not good at my job.
Please don’t minimize that by making it just about you. ”
Kasira winced. “That’s fair. I apologize.”
May smiled and offered her a warm bun, which she accepted gratefully.
It was light and fluffy and tasted of cinnamon and clove, and Kasira promptly devoured it, licking the icing from her fingers.
“At least now I understand what it was like for Allaster when I first arrived,” she said once finished, reclining in the grass.
“It’s terrible keeping track of everything Thane does. ”
May chuckled as she picked apart a bun. “At the very least, Allaster thought you were cute.”
A flush erupted across Kasira’s face, catching her off guard.
She wasn’t a fool. There had been moments when Allaster had looked at her in a way that stilled her.
Moments where she had wondered if there was something between them, something she could use.
But she had dismissed it as too fragile, too unstable.
For if there was any part of Allaster that felt that way about her, there were twice as many that would never act on it.
It was an element of the con she had never been good at.
Playing on people’s romantic feelings. Relationships had always been different for her than most people, which was to say she had never really had one outside of whatever had existed between her and Loraya.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested; it was that she didn’t know how to navigate the complex web of emotions and intimacy that came with it.
Physical touch came with expectations, and it didn’t leave room for explanations like, This is suffocating me, and I’m not sure I want this.
When people touched her, they mistook her stillness as acceptance, when in truth, she retreated into a place so deep inside herself her body no longer felt her own.
A place she had only begun to navigate before Belvar, one that needed connection before intimacy.
After, she had done everything she could to avoid that connection, reducing herself down to the need to survive.
Don’t lose sight of that now, coaxed Loraya. Guard your heart, Kasira.
But for once, the sound of her old partner’s voice didn’t comfort her.
It had felt off ever since Thane’s revelation, like a string out of tune.
Kasira had spent the past few days poring over a thousand memories under a new light.
The times Loraya had defended her, protected her, the way she had always put Kasira’s needs first.
Loraya had taken Kasira under her wing, taught her how to survive, but it had been Kasira who reveled in the con, Kasira who belonged on the streets.
Loraya had always seemed meant for so much more, and Kasira had wanted to give her that.
She still did. But if what Thane had said about the priest was true, if Loraya hadn’t told her Thane had wanted Kasira out of the crew …
What other pieces of her friend had Kasira missed?
May was looking at her oddly now, and she knew she had let the lull last too long. Forcing a smile, Kasira asked, “What about you? How do you feel about all of this?”
May looked contemplative, her fingers playing with her marriage bracelet. “I think tensions around here are mounting. Even I’ve been a little high-strung myself.”
“You?” Kasira propped herself up on an elbow. “You’re the most levelheaded person I know.”
“Or perhaps just the best at projecting it,” May replied with a shake of her head. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet, Kas. I—I’m leaving Amorlin. I’m returning to take over my mother’s bakery. Not right away. I don’t feel right doing it now with the Library in the state it is in, but soon.”
The wistfulness in May’s expression, the longing—they were familiar, the look of someone who wanted something they had been denied for too long.
For how long had May wanted to leave, but remained because Allaster and the Library needed her?
Kasira thought of the bitterness in May’s voice in conversations about Kasira and Allaster, how desperately she’d wanted them to work things out, and knew she ought to let those feelings lie.
She had set her anchor well enough with May; there was no need to press further.
And yet she asked, “What’s wrong, May?”
The question seemed to startle the First Mage, as if she were unused to hearing it.
Her eyes clouded with emotion, a tear tracking down her cheek that she wiped away.
“It’s my wife, Taya. She wants me to come home, but I have a few things left to tie up here.
She doesn’t understand though. She thinks I’m choosing the Library and my research over her, but I—” She cut off, visibly restraining something.
“I love her, Kas,” May said. “More than anything. I don’t want to lose her.”
Kasira had known that Allaster’s antics were grinding on May’s nerves, but not why.
Nor had she realized how heavily it was weighing on May.
Protecting the Library was the First Mage’s job, and she had done it well, but in that moment, a part of Kasira wanted to protect her.
It made her wish she could have known May in another life, at a cottage by the lake.
What would happen to May when all of this was over? Would she still retire if the Library fell into Kalish hands? Would her wife understand if she didn’t?
No, Kasira thought. She would never abandon this place if it needed her.
Struck by a strange sensation to do something, Kasira placed a hand over May’s. “It’ll be all right,” she lied. “Allaster just needs a little time. He and I will figure things out, and you’ll be back in Riviair baking bonbons in no time.”
May laughed, and it took years off her face. “You don’t bake bonbons.”
“I don’t even know what a bonbon is.”
May smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’ll make you some sometime. They’re delightful.”
Kasira only smiled, wishing it could be that simple.
DESPITE HIS DISGRUNTLEMENT, Allaster took Kasira’s advice, assigning Thane basic work to keep him occupied, tasks like cleaning that he couldn’t sabotage and that kept him away from the beasts.
Thane accepted the redirection with an ease that only made Kasira more nervous.
No countermove, no attempt to weasel his way out.
It made her feel as though she had dodged a Relin without realizing there was a Zeras hidden in the brush.
When Allaster still hadn’t come around by the end of the week, Kasira decided to force the issue. She had given him time enough to brood, and the longer it took for them to reconcile, the more Thane could build a case against her.
It was time to put the next piece of her plan into play.
Sensing him in the arena, she teleported there and was greeted by the sound of thudding wood. Allaster occupied one corner, driving his staff over and over again into a practice target. He had stripped down to his pants, sweat glistening along the muscles of his back.
For a moment, all she could do was stare.
Not only at him, but also at the ferocity in his every move, the fury.
She could feel it through the magic. His pain, his despair—because of her.
She had threatened something he cared desperately for.
It was an emotion Kasira knew so little of, one she hadn’t felt since Loraya.
But she felt it now, like a half-forgotten memory. He had a way of doing that to her.
Making her remember.
Allaster’s barrage came to a sudden end with a strike so powerful, it cracked both target and staff in two. He had thrust the remaining piece of the weapon into the dirt with a snarl and summoned a replacement before he noticed her.
“What do you want?” he asked.
Trying not to focus on how the muscles of his arms strained against the henolite bands, she summoned her own staff. “Maybe if you hit me instead of that target, we’ll actually get somewhere.”
He grimaced. “You’re blunter as yourself.”
“As myself? You think this is another persona?”
Allaster lifted his staff in a fighting stance. “That’s the problem. I’ll never know.” He lashed at her, and she caught his strike, turning him aside with the force of his own blow.
“Ask me whatever you want, Librarian,” she said. “I’ll answer honestly.”
The next attack came from the side, and she blocked that too.
His eyes tracked her movements, narrowing on her now-right-handed grip.
She offered him a joyless smile and grasped his staff, holding him in place.
He leaned his full weight against her, forcing her to flood her body with magic to hold him up.
“You said you loved beasts as a child, and it set you apart,” he said. “Truth or lie?”
She nearly laughed at the question. This was a game she could play.
“Truth.” She shoved him back and snapped her staff toward his head. He ducked, then struck her in the gut. The air fled from her lungs, and she fended him off with a weak counter he scoffed at.
“You were never nervous around the beasts; it was all a ploy to convince me you were Eirlana,” he said through heavy breaths. “Truth or lie?”
“Lie,” she exhaled, then drew another deep breath. “The priests at the orphanage destroyed what little curiosity I had for them, and the Malikinar did the rest.”
Allaster drew up from his stance. “The orphanage?”
“What, you thought I became a thief to escape my loving home?” She laughed mirthlessly, showing him her scarred hand. “It was a priest who burned my hand for bringing the injured Talowell home. Right before he made me drown it.”
There was so much more to that story. Loraya coming to her in the middle of the night with a plan to get revenge, and the truth of what her friend did.
Their bid for freedom and return to the streets before Thane found them.
These weren’t pieces of herself she wanted to give.
They were meant to remain safely tucked beneath the armor of her personas, but this was unlike any job she had done before.
She had no alter ego, no crafted backstory.
There was only her.
Allaster brought the low end of his staff up in a swift arc, catching her off guard. She braced for the impact, but it never came—he’d pulled up short, the staff’s tip resting beneath her chin. “Where did you get that scar on your face?”
She gazed down at the staff, remembering that night in Belvar, and thought for a moment that she would just let him strike her instead. There were some things that belonged to her. That darkness was one of them.
“On a beast hunt,” she lied.
Allaster lowered his staff with a look of disgust. “How many have you killed?”
“It’s better if I don’t tell you.”
They looked at each other then, the Librarian and the beast slayer, and in that silence, she read a thousand things behind Allaster’s pale gaze.
But there was one that rose above the rest, one she should have been relieved to see, but only made her heart sink: It was how desperately he wanted to believe her.
It was the look of a man who was drowning. She had only to hold out her hand.
Then his face scrunched in confusion. “Elyae?”
She turned as the girl stumbled hastily into the arena, her uniform stained crimson with blood. “Spenshire is under attack.”