Chapter 21 Ezra
“Perhaps locking him in the cellar was a touch excessive.” I glanced toward Hell. “Though I suspect that is not truly what this is about.” She answered me with a look that made it abundantly clear I would be receiving no further explanation.
“Nothing is going on between us,” she said flatly. “The two of you were the ones who questioned whether he could be trusted. I am taking precautions.”
I held my hands up in mock surrender. “I am only saying most acquaintances are not greeted with imprisonment.”
“Well, most acquaintances do not invade your dreams,” she muttered, just loudly enough for us to hear.
I frowned. “Invade your dreams?” I looked at Liv, who appeared every bit as confused as I felt. “You mean literally?” I had questions. An alarming number of questions. Helena, however, looked prepared to bury me beneath the manor if I asked a single one of them.
Hell sipped her tea silently. Liv’s eyes shifted between all of us.
Margaret’s brow lifted slowly, and a smirk tugged at her lip.
Whatever had transpired, it was becoming increasingly clear that everyone seemed to know more about what had happened in that cellar than I did.
Though the rumbling and shouting suddenly made perfect sense.
“If he has been violating your dreams, I can just be rid of him for you.” I offered sincerely; the last thing I wanted to see was Helena hurt. She slammed her cup down on the table, sending tea and shards of the fragile glass scattering across the wood.
“No!” She stood, so abruptly her chair scraped across the floor.
Without another word, she knelt and began helping Margaret gather the broken glass.
Curious. I looked to Liv and mouthed, What is happening?
Her smile only widened, and she gave the slightest shake of her head.
I supposed I would not be getting any answers today.
I waited until she and Margaret had finished cleaning the broken glass before sitting down again.
“So,” I asked quietly, “what would you like to do?”
Beneath the table, Liv's fingers found mine and gave them a small approving squeeze.
I smiled despite myself, rather pleased with whatever I had apparently done correctly.
Hell did not answer. She poured herself another cup of tea and stared into it as though it might somehow tell her what to do.
I did not think she knew the answer. Thank the gods Liv could read her far better than I ever could.
Liv waited until Hell had settled back into her chair.
“You don't have to tell us what happened,” she said softly.
“But... you've experienced his magic firsthand.”
She hesitated. “Do you think it could help us?”
Helena was still silent. Concern stirred beneath my skin, and my shadows drifted across the floor until they curled protectively around Helena's heels.
I gave Liv a look, urging her to ask. I suspected she wanted to respect Helena's silence, but could we truly justify keeping him here if he had harmed her, no matter how useful his magic might be?
“Hell…” Liv scooted her chair closer. “Did he… hurt you?” She choked the words out as though she were terrified of the answer. Liv took Helena’s hand, and she quickly pulled it away. She let out a laugh that was too sharp to be humorous.
“Hurt me?” She sounded offended. “No, he betrayed me.” The words settled over the table like lead. “But do not let that be a deciding factor. If things are going to play out in the way you described, from the books, we need every upper hand we can get. Keep him around; I think he will be useful.”
She stood to leave, taking her tea with her.
Before passing the doorway out of the kitchen, she paused.
“But he will earn every moment he is allowed to remain here.”
She shot it over her shoulder like an afterthought, but her voice was cold and commanding.
I suddenly found myself profoundly grateful that Helena had never looked at me that way.
I was not entirely certain whether the blacksmith had just been spared...
or condemned to something considerably worse.
Margaret, Liv, and I collectively held our breath as we listened to her footsteps ascending the stairs. The moment we heard the door to her chamber slam shut, we exhaled.
Margaret was the first to move. She chuckled as she gathered the broken shards of glass. “I do not know precisely what he did, but I have seen that look before. The poor boy has a mountain to climb.”
“You have seen this look before?” Did she mean Liv?
“Oh yes…” Margaret laughed as she dried a dish.
“Should I be concerned?” Liv's cheeks puffed with the effort of holding back her laughter. A heartbeat later, she lost what little control she had left. Tea shot from her nose as she doubled over in a full-bellied laugh.
“What is so funny? Did I miss the jest?” Margaret caught Liv's eye, and they both broke into helpless laughter. Liv crossed the kitchen to me and placed her hand on my chest.
“It is okay, my love; just be happy that you do not understand.” She patted my chest. “Perhaps you should go and release him from the cellar; it does not seem that Hell has any intention of doing so.”
I had forgotten entirely that the blacksmith was still locked in the cellar.
I took the steps down, two at a time. Then, I took a steadying breath in an effort to wipe the humor from my face.
I could not have him thinking he had gotten off easy for…
whatever he had done. I unlocked the door and threw it open.
He startled so violently the chair he was seated in nearly tipped backward. Good.
“You have been spared.” I made sure my voice was low and even. I turned without another word and climbed back up the stairs, leaving him in the cellar and trying very hard not to laugh. When I reached the kitchen, Liv stood waiting with her hands on her hips, shaking her head with a smirk.
“What?”
“You could have at least told him he was allowed to come upstairs.”
“I assumed that was implied.”
She sighed dramatically. “Gods between you and Hell, I doubt he will survive a week. Go get the poor man before he believes he's been sentenced to another week down there.”