Chapter Eight #3
“You did good, Al,” she said. “But you have to stop being such a gentleman. It’s going to get you killed.”
His mouth twisted in amusement. “I’ll have to remember that.”
“See that you do.” She climbed off him and helped him to his feet.
“Do you feel better about me coming along, though?” he asked, brushing leaves off his backside.
“Marginally.”
“Marginally?” Nadia crowed from the porch. “He knocked you flat on your ass!”
Lyssa ignored her, though she felt her cheeks go hot. “At least I know you won’t get slaughtered like a lamb the second we get into trouble.”
“I told you I wouldn’t,” he said, with a self-satisfied smile. “Maybe that will teach you not to make assumptions based on someone’s appearance.”
“And maybe you shouldn’t get a big head just because you managed to hit me once.”
“I also swept you off your feet,” he reminded her.
She scowled. “Do you want to go again?”
He backed up a step, the panicked look returning to his face. “Not particularly.”
“Then shut up.”
Brandy whined pitifully, straining against Ragnhild’s grip on his collar.
“You have to stay here, darling,” Lyssa said, kneeling down to let the bullmastiff lick her face.
“It’s not safe for you out there.” Brandy huffed his disagreement, insulted.
“I know you’ve fought Hound-wardens before,” she told him, rubbing his ear.
“But things are different now. You’re getting too…
” She trailed off, letting the word old die on her lips.
She refused to think of him as old. Refused to acknowledge that if they had never found the Witch’s Wood and Ragnhild’s cottage, she would already have lost him years ago.
Brandy growled a warning deep in his throat, glaring at Alderic, as if accusing the man of usurping his rightful place by Lyssa’s side.
“I’ll be fine. He’s not going to hurt me.” She kissed his muzzle and stood.
“Good luck,” Ragnhild said to Lyssa. To Nadia, who stood off to the side, holding the handle of the little wooden wagon she would pile their shopping into, “Get only what’s on the list. No trinkets or baubles this time.
” Her apprentice scowled. “And you,” she told Alderic.
“Do as Lyssa says—I’ve no doubt she’ll keep you safe if you do.
And make sure you avoid the Hound-wardens. ”
“Our plan was to run straight for them,” Alderic said before Lyssa could comment, “but now that you’ve said that, we shall reconsider.”
Lyssa barked a surprised laugh, and Rags scowled. “Don’t be cheeky with me, young man,” the witch said.
They turned to go, and Brandy let out a howl that nearly cleaved Lyssa’s heart in two.
She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Oh, all right,” she said, like she had every single time this past year.
It was as much a part of the ritual of her leaving, now, as packing her bag or replenishing her chalk.
Ragnhild let go of Brandy’s collar, and the dog leapt up on Lyssa and bared his teeth in a grin, licking her face.
“This is the last time,” she said, like she always did. “You’d better make it count, okay?”
Brandy harrumphed, as if knowing this was a farce they must go through every time he came along, and cast a smug look at Alderic.
With one last goodbye to Ragnhild, Lyssa, Alderic, Nadia, and Brandy set off for the stone arch.
“Have you come up with any ingredients you can contribute to the sword?” Lyssa asked Alderic as they walked.
“No,” he admitted. “Not for lack of trying, I assure you. It’s just, well…” He grimaced, refusing to look at her. “Nothing comes to mind when I try to muster up a happy memory.”
Her heart ached at that, and once again she felt a sudden urge to comfort him, just as she had in the hansom cab on the way to his manor.
“You’ll think of something,” she told him, trying to sound optimistic.
“It’s just the magic of this place, squeezing your brain.
In fact, I am absolutely dreading having to pare down your inevitable list of a hundred suitable items, all of them shoved somewhere in that pack rat’s paradise of a parlor. ”
“Perhaps.” He looked unconvinced, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, as if he appreciated her effort.
“I have a couple of things we can start with, in the meantime, depending on what phase the moon is in out there,” she said.
“The moon?”
“We have to collect some of the items during specific times in the lunar cycle.”
He looked like he wanted to interrogate her further, but by then they had reached the Gate, and it was time to go.
“Ready?” Lyssa asked, snorting when Alderic took a huge breath and held it. “We’re not diving.”
He let the breath out, looking sheepish. “Right.”
She held out her hand and he stared at it.
“It’s not dirty,” she said after a moment.
“I didn’t say that it was.”
“Then take it.”
“Why?”
“To make sure we come out in the same place.”
A look of horror crept over his face, and she laughed.
“It’ll be fine,” Nadia said gently. “Watch—Brandy and I will go through first.” She grabbed Brandy’s collar in one hand, the other still holding the wagon’s handle.
“Warham!” she shouted. Then she stepped through the Gate, Brandy trotting alongside her, and instead of coming out the other side of the stone arch, they were gone.
There was no flash of light or boom of thunder, only a faint ripple of air that could have been the wind in the leaves around them, and a pulse of the magic pressing against their skin.
“It’s that easy?” Alderic asked.
“It’s that easy,” Lyssa replied.
Alderic threaded his fingers through hers and closed his eyes. It was an effort not to flinch away from his touch—when was the last time someone had held her hand?
She studied him for a moment; there was something nagging at her about his face. Then she realized what it was. His nose, which she was fairly certain she’d broken when she punched him, had a mere wisp of a bruise that could have been the shadow of the leaves overhead.
When she pointed it out to him, he opened his eyes again and said, “I told you, I have a good metabolism.”
“I’m not sure metabolism works that way,” she said.
“Are we going to stand here all day and chat about my exquisite features and peak physical condition? Or are we going to begin our quest?”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, all right, keep your pants on. And don’t let go of me.” Then she shouted, “Warham!” and they stepped through the Gate.