20. Lucina
LUCINA
The Captain wasn’t at breakfast, and Gemma and I didn’t bother eating lunch, not when whatever pineapple concoction she made for us went straight to our heads and the desire to move fled with the passing breeze.
Only when my eyes glossed over did that pain in my chest ease, and thankfully I’ve managed to stay in that sweet spot ever since, but the sun is starting to set over the tree line and our drinks are getting low… and Gemma—
“G.” I turn to look at her, propping myself up on my elbows, and she smiles widely, pulling down her sunglasses to look at me.
“Yes, baby?” she drawls slowly, her voice like honey.
Yeah… drunk.
“We skipped lunch,” I tell her, peeling myself up and off the towel, my head spinning with the movement. “We can’t skip dinner.”
“Who says?” Gemma turns up her chin, finishing off the rest of her drink.
“I say.”
Gemma doesn’t move a muscle.
I roll my eyes up to Pax, who’s sitting on the edge of the dock. “Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, jabbing a finger at me. “You promised me I wouldn’t have to carry either of you back.”
“I don’t need anyone to carry me!” Gemma snaps, yanking herself up from the ground in a movement that I would almost consider graceful, especially given how much we’d had to drink. She grabs her towel and empty glass, barely hiding the stumble in her step as she storms past him.
I smile sweetly at Pax, hurrying towards the hand Gemma holds out for me, and he groans as he pulls himself off the dock.
By the time we’ve both showered and dressed for dinner, the last of the sun rays are drenching Pirn in a beautiful, honeyed glow that drunk me appreciates a lot more than sober me ever has.
As we walk to the Tavern, I go over my options for getting in contact with Ivy and Jude.
Ask Pax, and when he says no, threaten him within an inch of his life.
Figure out how to access the Banyan and go through it myself.
See if Pa can do some weird Diviner séance and communicate with—
No. That’s crazy. I think Pax is my best option. I glance over to where he walks beside us, his green eyes alert and his head of auburn hair on a swivel as he monitors everyone that passes as if they are all suspects of last nights attempt on my life. And I suppose they are…
Remembering the reality of my current situation sobers me instantly.
I scan the Tavern when we walk in, my gaze lingering on the Ajax table long enough to see that Callan isn’t there. Maybe that’s for the best.
Pax gets my food directly from the Kitchens, and when Gemma and I slam our trays down in front of Selene and Kimber, their brows rise.
“The two of you reek.” Selene scrunches her nose, and Kimber sniffs the air.
“Well, that’s not fair,” I frown, exchanging a confused glance with Gemma, who’s sniffing her shirt. “We both showered.”
“Of alcohol,” Selene clarifies. “You smell like a bowl of tropical fruit that’s been drowned in whiskey.”
“Thank you,” Gemma and I say in unison, and Kimber smiles, her eyes widening when Pax sets his tray down and slides onto the bench beside me.
My eyes dart between the two of them as I cut off a piece of pot roast and pop it in my mouth. I don’t think Kimber has seen him since poker night, and she definitely doesn’t know about his drunken confession to me. Kimmy smells like roses.
Thank the gods I never told her; I needed something to threaten him with should he give me any shit over what he walked into last night.
Blackmail isn’t something I want to get used to, but the second I saw the knowing smirk on Pax’s face when he showed up to Gemma’s cabin today, it was either that or murder.
Selene smacks my hand away from the bottle of wine she’d gotten for the table.
“Eat first,” she snaps, then points a crooked finger in my direction. “And strengthen your shields before I share your thoughts with the class.”
Pax snickers, the sound ending in a cough when the heel of my boot slams into his under the table.
I reinforce my fraying shields and keep them locked in place for the remainder of dinner, pouring myself a generous glass of wine the second I finish my food.
“What about those twins in your coven?” Gemma says to Selene. “Didn’t they set some trees on fire a few years back?”
“Whoever tried to kill me isn’t necessarily a pyromaniac,” I chime in. “They just wanted me dead, and fire is the weapon they chose. It’s efficient, it burns all evidence, and it’s accessible to anyone. I doubt there is any meaning behind it.”
“I disagree,” Kimber shrugs, and we all look to her for an explanation. “To burn a witch? To kill them with the very thing that fuels them? That kind of death is the calling card of—"
“A Rogue,” Pax mutters, watching Kimber with wide eyes.
“But that’s not possible,” Selene says to Kimber, “we’d know if one of them was here…right?” Gemma remains silent, her face completely blank and unreadable.
“Of course,” Kimber says casually, waving her hand as if she’s waving off the genuine concern lacing all our features.
“A dark witch with ill intentions wouldn’t make it through the Banyan; they wouldn’t pass the judgment.
But it can’t be a coincidence that someone tried to kill Lucina in the same way a Rogue would.
” She shrugs casually, “Just something to think about.”
It's silent for a few moments and I feel Pax’s stare seer into the side of my stunned face. I hear the beat of my heart in my ears, and my hand involuntarily tightens on the stem of my glass.
In my peripheral vision, Pax throws his napkin down onto his tray. “Lucina, have you ever had a Sugarbloom?”
It snaps me out of my stare. “A what?”
“Really!?” He laughs, the sound a bit forced with the lingering tension at the table. “You’ve been in Pirn for a month and never had a Sugarbloom? That’s outrageous!”
Gemma snickers, but Pax is serious as ever.
“Come on, I’ll show you.” He practically jumps from his seat, a childish grin on his face as he holds his hand out to me. I raise a skeptical brow, glancing back at my friends, and I’m met with sympathetic stares. That’s when I realize what he’s doing.
Paxton Samora is trying to get my mind off the heavy things.
Maybe he’s more like Jude than I thought.
I take his hand willingly, catching the contagious smile he wears, though mine still feels forced.
It’s impossible for it not to be. I have a demon attached to me, haunting my dreams, and the only way I know to make it stop is to use the Eldral, but Kimber won’t tell me how it works.
Ivy and Jude think I’m dead, and I have no solid plan to fix that aside from asking Pax to break the rules for me.
I’m living amongst the people that my mother supposedly betrayed, and someone tried to kill me last night.
Not only did they try to kill me, but they picked a death with a sinister meaning.
I don’t know what these Sugarblooms are, but I doubt they can fix me.
Pax leads me through a door in the Tavern and into the kitchens, the flick of the light switch echoing through the wide space as dozens of amber lanterns come to life.
The room is full of ovens, stained countertops, deep farm sinks, and dishes stacked high beside them.
It’s vacant now—the hearth witches having finished dinner and gone home to do it all again tomorrow.
He weaves us through the jutted-out counters and worktables, my hand still in his. We come to the far end of the kitchen, stopping beside a small stained surface near one of the tall, frosted windows.
“Stay,” he instructs, and I scoff.
“Pax, I’m not a dog—”
He doesn’t hear me as he excitedly runs around the corner and comes back seconds later with both hands behind his back, grinning like a schoolboy. “Okay, sit.”
“I’m not a—” I cut myself off, deciding not to chastise him when he’s doing something nice for me. I pull a stool out from the worktable and sit, exhaling a deep breath. Then in one swooping motion, he pulls his arms around and sets a white bowl on the table.
I peer inside. It’s a shiny red sphere, about the size of the Eldral, and it hardly looks appetizing. I point my finger at it. “You want me to eat that?”
Pax snorts, then leans down and whispers into the bowl, “Vessari.”
The orb rattles, then a puff of chilled air rises, and the shiny red surface splits, blooming like a flower right before my eyes.
“Gods,” I breathe, completely in awe.
The petals splay wide, frosted like the windows around us, with an iridescent glow to them that shimmers beneath the dim amber lighting. I’m so engrossed in what I’m seeing that I flinch when Pax speaks.
“Voila,” he announces. “A Sugarbloom.” He reaches forward and plucks a petal, then pops it right into his mouth. “She makes them perfectly every single time,” he mutters to himself as he chews.
“Who does?” I ask, tearing off a petal and cautiously biting the end of it—
Holy gods. It’s like the sweetest berry frosted in sugar, but it’s cold like ice cream, and there’s a botanical taste that lingers on my tongue. I take another petal and Pax does the same.
“May,” he replies, settling against the counter. “She’s the head Hearth Witch.”
“Will she know that a Sugarbloom has gone missing?”
“Yup. But she’ll blame Callan.”
My brows rise, curiosity pushing past the heaviness in my gut at the mention of his name. “And why’s that?” I plop another petal into my mouth, savoring the sweet flavor that spreads across my tongue.
“We’ve been stealing Sugarblooms since we were boys. Callan took the blame for it once, and he’s been the culprit ever since.” Pax laughs as if he’s recalling that memory, then he points a petal at me. “But don’t worry, May never stays mad at him for too long.”
A laugh of my own slips past. “You let him take the blame every time?”
“Of course.” Pax chuckles, reaching for another petal. “His punishments weren’t anything to cry over. He’d get a smack on the hand with a wooden spoon while I stifled a laugh beside him.”