Chapter Fifty-Two
Blair
Afew days later, Lorkan’s study was filled with the scent of Blair’s potion, bubbling away in a copper soup pot—the closest she’d found to a cauldron in the werewolf village.
Luckily, Blair’s go-to position for repairing or restoring damaged books included echinacea, goatweed, and star anise, which didn’t smell half bad when brewed over maple wood.
But the process was time consuming. Blair brushed the potion on the damaged pages with tied lavender, dandelion and wool all while muttering a certain spell she’d written herself. As a leading scholar, she practically recited the spell in her sleep.
With her wind bronntanas, the texts and pages dried quickly. Their ink, parchment, and contents salvaged. Lorkan had read as Blair worked, and it wasn’t long before both of them pored over the ancient texts, reading in content silence like they had as teenagers.
Hours went by, and without windows, Blair had no measure of time, aside from Lorkan’s dwindling stack of firewood. They remained silent and focused as they scoured the text for any remnants of words, images, or clues.
“Is this the tree you read about in the faerie text?” Lorkan asked, flipping a book around for Blair to read it.
The trees roots and branches connected into one large, interlocked circle. “Yes, that’s similar.”
Blair thumbed the stacked books, a sense of awe coming over her at the several-thousand-year-old texts so easily available to her. She found the one they’d retrieved in Nūa and flipped to the page detailing the tree. They were similar, but the branches and leaves slightly different.
“This is the tree of life to werewolves, also known as the elm,” Lorkan said. “In ancient myth, the trees create balance and possess protective properties.”
“Do werewolves use them for anything?” Blair asked.
Lorkan didn’t meet her stare as he said, “Carving bows and arrows, that’s about it. But this is also similar to our realm’s map with the various realms.”
Blair’s brows pinched. “Here, the faeries called it an ever tree.”
Lorkan reared straighter. “Did you say ever? This text detailed a seed with such a name, how the faerie used it to create pocket realms.”
“Like going underground?” Blair asked.
He shrugged, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“Perhaps. But I found an interesting passage about a forest called the Gray Wood. It’s not a faerie-written text, but written by humans in Torren.
They claim the faerie left this world under those hills and can be spotted in the roots of the trees. ”
Blair jumped out of her seat and peered over Lorkan’s shoulder. “That’s in Callum.”
“You know it?” Lorkan turned, their noses almost touched.
Blair nodded. “My sister Evelyn saved a young woman inside it when she was solving the murders. It was enchanted with dark magic at the time, but she—”
“Set it free,” Lorkan whispered.
Blair shook her head. “What?”
“With the old bones of friend now set free,” Lorkan laughed. “It’s a line from the prophecy. So, your sister undid the dark magic?”
“Yes,” Blair roamed her gaze over all the texts and notes, finding the parchment with the written prophecy. “But what would the Gray Wood give her?”
“A seed sown from elsewhere.” Lorkan pointed to the second to last stanza and then to his translations of a faerie text.
Blair froze. “Are you suggesting the Gray Wood is a forest of ever trees?”
“Why not?” Lorkan shrugged. “It’s no coincidence your sister is detailed in the prophecy, and there’s a supposed connection between the faerie and this forest. Further, the Gray Wood didn’t dot a single map until after the Gods War.”
“As if they’d created it to avoid the conflict, leaving our world entirely,” Blair said.
She scribbled their collective notes into a journal, drawing conclusions to the various stanzas, too. The fire popped and the increase sense eyes were on her caressed her cheek. She snapped her head up, finding Lorkan staring at her.
“What?” Blair asked.
Lorkan offered a small smile. “It almost feels like the evenings we spent in the Drengr Library together.”
Blair bit her lip, hating to think of those old times but also appreciating the similarities. “I’d say your office is far more spacious.”
“True,” Lorkan sighed. “But nothing can beat that view in the reading nook.”
No, it can’t, Blair wished to agree, yet she refrained.
She liked spending more time with Lorkan.
Researching things. Experiencing his quick wit.
Working together. Blair’s insides swam, and she tasted apprehension with her next swig of tea.
She didn’t want to fracture this normalcy they’d found working together.
Especially if they were figuring out more and more about the prophecy.
Blair cleared her throat. “So, Evelyn and Kade get this seed, and then what?”
Lorkan shrugged. “Based off the properties I know of, we plant it at the epicenter of the curse.”
“The Void then,” Blair said. “The age of curse, a crack in the land, the seep and sorrow of death, darkness, and rot.”
He nodded. “I’d say this is a start.”
Blair rose, gathering her things. “Should we continue tomorrow?”
Lorkan stood up, too, helping her stack the books and tidy the space. “Yes. Let me walk you back to your room.”
“That isn’t necessary—”
“I’d like to,” Lorkan said. “Please. Vísdómr is a different beast at night. It’s easy to get lost.”
The last bit of fire dwindled, but his study grew hotter. Thicker. Blair swallowed, throat going dry, and all she could manage was a small nod.
In silence, they ventured to the visiting dormitories.
With the few windows glowing from the sun, the central library was dimmed with glowing lanterns. Shadows rippled across the stony exterior, and Blair hugged her arms tighter around the books she carried.
Few werewolves browsed the shelves at this hour. Some were so lost to their books, they didn’t notice Blair and Lorkan passing by. Others recognized Lorkan from afar and greeted them with enthusiastic smiles.
They finally reached Blair’s hall. Tiredness clung to her bones, sleep beckoning after a night of dedicated research. They stopped outside her door and turned to the other.
“Thank you, Lorkan,” she whispered.
He stared down at her, golden stare as bright as sconces lighting the hall.
For the first time since being together again, a stillness bled in the air between.
The comfortable kind. The one Blair had looked forward to when she visited him.
Darkness ran in her veins, and yet, Lorkan quieted that storm. Even now, after so much time.
And when he stared at her, the sharpness of his reserved demeanor softened. There was a hint of the boy she’d fallen for. The quiet, thoughtful werewolf who’d worn glasses and faced being a latent wolf without an ounce of resentment.
They stepped closer, as if an invisible thread tugged them together. A breath passed. Yearning replaced the storm in Blair’s veins and then—
Lorkan stepped back, shaking his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow at half past nine. Have a goodnight, Blair.”
He retreated from her door, and Blair exhaled.
She wasn’t certain if her sigh was full of relief or regret.