Chapter 67
Before we left for the investigation, I wanted to see Lucien one last time.
The guards were fed up by me to even acknowledge my presence. They would without word, allow me to enter. The senior healer would just glance at me, and then offer a sigh, shaking his head.
I sighed too, turning to look down at Lucien's quiet, sleeping face. "I'm leaving to find out what's going on tomorrow morning," I whispered. "Please get better while I'm gone. Don't make me come back here just to yell at you."
The next morning, I arrived near the grand entrance hall where Rhaevan was already waiting, leaning against a stone pillar.
His dark gaze shifted toward me briefly as I approached. "You're late."
"Time is a social construct."
"That excuse stops working when actual danger is involved."
"How unfortunate."
Before it could evolve into another full-blown argument, I interjected, "So, what's the actual plan?"
After a brief, heavy silence, Rhaevan exhaled slowly. "We investigated the site where you were held hostage-or what remains of it. We found nothing. We also searched the clearing where the ambush happened. Still nothing. Their tracks completely vanished."
I frowned, thinking back. "Did you talk to Albert?"
Rhaevan's brows knitted together. "Albert?"
"The innkeeper," I explained. "There was a small tavern near the border where Lucien and I stayed right before everything went wrong. Albert runs it. We can start there."
"But that inn sits squarely within Viremont boundaries," I added cautiously.
"No need to worry about border permissions," he replied. "Master Theo briefed the King of Viremont directly about the situation. The Tower has been granted full investigative access across the border."
I nodded, satisfied. "Right then." He stepped out onto the open stone terrace. "We're teleporting."
I stopped dead in my tracks, my entire face contorting into an immediate frown. "Heh?!."
That single word carried enough sheer disappointment to summarize my entire relationship with spatial magic.
Rhaevan raised an eyebrow, slanting a look at me over his shoulder. "You dislike it that much?"
"Dislike is far too gentle a word. The last time I teleported, I genuinely felt my internal organs separate emotionally from my body."
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly. Traitor.
"Come here," he said, extending his arm toward me.
I stared at his forearm. Then at his face. Then back at his arm. "...Is this strictly necessary?"
"Yes."
"How disappointing."
"Cassiane."
"Right. Fine."
I grabbed onto his arm tightly, mostly because I valued my physical survival, and partially because accidentally slipping into another dimension seemed like an incredibly inconvenient way to die.
"Close your eyes," he said quietly, his tone softening just a fraction. "It helps."
That sounded suspiciously false, but I obeyed anyway, screwing my eyes shut.
And the next second-the world twisted.
Not moved. Twisted.
It felt as though space itself had folded incorrectly around my limbs while simultaneously dragging me through air that had ceased to exist properly. For one deeply offensive moment, I could not tell whether I was breathing or merely remembering how breathing used to work.
Everything compressed. Sound vanished. My stomach betrayed me spiritually.
(A special note to future generations: teleportation is absolutely not recommended for anyone dealing with claustrophobia, weak hearts, motion sickness, trust issues, or functioning survival instincts.)
And then, suddenly-solid ground returned beneath my boots.
I staggered instantly, my balance completely failing. "Oh god-"
The world tilted violently enough that I nearly walked straight into a thick pine tree, but before I could crash, Rhaevan caught me firmly by the shoulders, steadying me on the uneven forest floor.
"Careful," he murmured.
I looked up at him automatically.
Too close. Way too close.
His hands were still holding my shoulders tightly, his posture calm and immovable, his dark hair shifting slightly in the cool woodland breeze. His eyes swept over my face with quiet, intense concern, searching for any sign that I was about to pass out.
Which was not helping the situation. At all.
A sudden, traitorous warmth rushed straight to my cheeks. Horrible. Embarrassing. Completely uncalled for.
"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.
"Huh?"
Excellent response, Cassiane. Truly intellectual.
"I asked if you're alright."
"Mm-hmm," I replied far too quickly, nodding like a wooden toy. "Yes. Totally stable. Very alive."
Rhaevan's expression shifted, the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips suggesting he was fighting very hard not to smile.
I looked away immediately, staring intently at a nearby bush. Clearly, the universe had decided my personal character arc required maximum humiliation today.
After a moment, he released my shoulders and stepped back, giving me space.
"Come on," he said calmly, turning toward the dense treeline ahead. "Albert's inn shouldn't be far."