Chapter 7 #3
Rhodes followed, shutting the door behind him. “I’m more concerned than impressed.” His sharp gaze flicked to Ark. “You look like hell. Didn’t get a good night’s sleep?”
“I slept fine.”
Which was a lie. He’d tossed and turned—partly from the pain in his hand, and partly from thinking about the mysterious entity that caused it. Whatever lay in Starlight’s basement was part of a larger picture he didn’t yet have the context for.
Caius lowered himself into the chair across from Ark, elegantly crossing one leg over the other. He flicked his gaze toward the open books. “I assume this has to do with Starlight Orphanage.”
Ark shut the tome with a quiet thud. “I went last night.”
“And?”
He lifted his right palm, revealing the faint outlines of barely healed blisters. Both Caius and Rhodes leaned in.
“Something attacked you?” Caius’s brows lifted.
“That something also resisted me at the entrance,” Ark said, flexing his fingers. “The only reason I stepped inside was because Miss Aura invited me in.”
Caius tilted his head. “A threshold barrier?”
“I found no sigils.”
Rhodes frowned. “Land Magic?”
“No.” Ark exhaled, rubbing his temple. “It felt different. And it only reacted to me. The staff, the children, even Cassia—none of them seemed aware of it. But the moment I entered, something pushed back.”
He slid Briony’s scroll across the desk. “There’s more.”
Caius read it, a faint line appearing between his brows. He passed it to Rhodes.
“He pulled out all the stops?” Rhodes grunted. “For what’s supposed to be a straightforward acquisition?”
“Precisely,” Caius said. “They didn’t buy a property; they sealed a tomb. Why? What are they so desperate to obtain?”
Ark met his gaze. “That’s the real question. This legal perfection proves it. This isn’t an ordinary real estate deal for profits.”
“Just because you didn’t see the sigils doesn’t mean they don’t exist,” Caius insisted. “They could be carved into rafters, hidden under the floorboards.”
Rhodes studied him. “How did you get those blisters?”
Ark told them about the basement. Silence settled over the room. He could feel them processing—Caius already mapping the implications, Rhodes measuring the threat.
“Should we go with you next time?” Caius offered.
“Not yet.” Ark sighed. “Whatever this is, it’s not harming anyone inside. It tried to repel only me. Until we understand it better, I’d rather not provoke it.”
The words hung in the air. Caius was watching him the way he always did when he knew something was off. Rhodes had gone quiet too, which was never a good sign. They were waiting. Not for answers—they knew he didn’t have them yet—but for a sign that he would let them in when he did.
Ark forced his shoulders down. Maybe there was nothing wrong. The entity hadn’t harmed the children or the staff. All he had was a feeling—cold and stubborn—that whatever lived in Starlight’s basement wasn’t just sitting there, doing nothing.
Might Alderrath know what it was?
Rhodes broke the silence first, shoving back from the desk. “Alright, all this thinking is making me hungry. Let’s get lunch. We can figure out how to break an unbreakable contract on a magically hostile orphanage over a meal.”
Caius, still eyeing Ark’s hand thoughtfully, made an amused sound.
“I concur. I hear there is an excellent bakery in Little Mineola, only thirty minutes from the city, where an intriguing Kitchen Witch infuses magic into her creations.” He tilted his blond head, pale-blue eyes gleaming. “What is it called, again, I wonder?”
Ark’s expression didn’t change. “I don’t recall.”
“The Witching Flour,” Rhodes supplied, far too eagerly.
Caius snapped his fingers. “That is the one. Your Chosen’s magical baked goods might well accelerate your healing.”
Ark pulled a tome close to him and shook his head, set on continuing his work. “I’ll recover on my own, thank you.”
Caius clicked his tongue and folded his arms. “Mm-hmm. I see. Should Rhodes and I go and inform her you have been injured in the line of duty? Kitchen Witches are usually excellent healers, you know. She would wish to see you.”
“And take care of you,” Rhodes chimed in.
“And heal you.”
“And feed you—hopefully.”
Ark stilled. The teasing was calculated, of course—a trap laid by two men who’d had twenty-five years perfecting the art of steering him toward the things he wouldn’t admit he wanted.
And damn them, it worked. Every time.
Because, if he was honest, he was curious. And he wasn’t entirely sure what it was he wanted to see: her bakery, or . . . her.
While his fingers drummed against the desk, Caius winked and leaned toward Rhodes, voice carrying just enough to reach Ark. “Give him time to think about it.”
Ark exhaled slowly. Damn them both to the void.
“. . . Fine.”
Rhodes grinned. “Excellent. I’m in the mood for something sweet.”
Caius’s lips curled. “Oh, I’m sure we all are. Come, I’ll drive.”
Ark stood and rolled his gloves between his fingers. Seeing Aura Cassia again hadn’t been on his agenda today. As he followed them to the door, he realized that was the problem: nothing about her had ever been on his agenda.
But somehow, the thought didn’t seem entirely unwelcome.