CHAPTER 18 #2
Sebastian’s gaze lingered on her for a long moment, absorbing her words. “What things?”
“He mentioned your sisters. Seeing them in trouble–”
His face darkened. Kara hurried on.
“I didn’t want – I wanted to avoid that. If I could.”
He scoffed. “I’m not sure your solution was better.”
She flinched at his honesty. But then, he lowered himself next to her, although careful not to get too close. “Your magic’s less painful, though.”
“Hmm.”
That was all she could think to say.
He pulled his pack towards him, digging inside until he found a leather pouch. He loosened the drawstring to reveal a mess of dried leaves and twisted roots.
“What’s that?” she asked, watching closely as he sorted through them.
“Something for your headache.” He selected three ingredients, laying them out by his side. “Keeps the dreams away, too.”
That surprised her.
“I didn’t know you knew how to make herbal remedies.”
“It’s necessary. I have to keep moving when I’m hurt,” he said.
She watched his hands work – quick and practised – the motions second nature. She wondered how many nights he’d had to patch himself up alone. A familiar scent hit her. “Elderberry root.”
He didn’t look up from his work. “And lavender.”
She caught the soft, calming fragrance as he crushed it between his fingers.
He lit a small fire and dropped the ingredients into a tin cup of water. Next he pulled a thin, pale sliver of wood out of a paper-wrapped bundle by his side. It glittered in the firelight. He broke off a piece and dropped it into the mixture, and held the cup over the flames.
Kara blinked. “Moonblossom bark? That’s not for headaches.”
“Not usually,” Sebastian agreed, stirring the remedy. “But it helps quiet the mind. Makes the other herbs work harder.”
Impressive. I wouldn’t have thought to use that.
Steam curled upward, sharp and a little sweet. He held it out to her. “Drink it whilst it’s hot.”
As she took it, her hand brushed his fingers slightly, but he didn’t flinch. Though the taste was more bitter than she’d expected, she drank it without complaint. To her surprise, it worked where her magic had failed; the pounding in her head faded quickly, and the dizziness eased.
“Thanks,” she said gratefully.
He shrugged and went back to watching the fire. An uneasy silence stretched between them.
“Why are you really here, Kara?” His voice was low, deliberately casual.
She looked up, caught off guard. “For Vallenna.”
A faint crease appeared between his brows. “No. There’s something else. You’re giving up a lot for the sake of a vision. Just because I believe it’s true.”
“So are you,” she said.
“Tell me.”
His eyes pinned her. It made her forget how to breathe. Forget how to think.
Because I want to be with you.
“Because I–”
What are you doing?! Do not tell him that!
“For Vallenna,” she finished quickly. “I can’t be a healer if there’s no one left to heal.”
Sebastian watched her intently. He’d noticed her slip, how the almost-confession hung in the air between them. But he didn’t push. Kara thought the conversation was over, but after a moment Sebastian leaned back, considering her.
“Why did the Council send you? I thought Thorne soldiers–”
She shook her head. “Your father wouldn’t send them.”
He went still. “What?”
“Said he wouldn’t raise Thorne swords against you.” She paused, watching his face. “He was worried they wouldn’t bring you back alive. Threatened war with Sorrel over it.”
Sebastian stared like he hadn’t heard her right. Kara found herself smiling – not out of amusement, but at the ridiculousness of it.
“It’s funny,” she said, a small huff of laughter escaping her.
“That’s funny?” His tone sharpened, but he looked curious.
“Well, you know. Funny how long ‘unity’ lasted.”
“Why would he risk that with Sorrel? For me?” Sebastian asked in disbelief. “I’m damned anyway.”
“He’s your father. He wanted you to have a trial. Give you a chance to explain.” She kept her voice gentle. “Even now, Sebastian, they might understand–”
“They won’t,” he interrupted, fast and defensive. “People have died.”
The words made her feel cold. “I know. You didn’t want that though.”
His gaze didn’t waver. “But I did it. I knew it was a risk. If they catch me, I’m dead.”
No. I won’t let that happen.
Sebastian continued, “He’ll have no choice but to send Thorne now. Once Henry gets word to them about what happened.”
Silence settled again between them. Kara knew he was right.
“So,” he said after a moment, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “They really thought you were the best option?”
She furrowed her brow, almost offended. “Hale was a neutral House,” she said. “And we have... well, we have the magic that I–” She stopped herself, the memory of her binding him flashing hot and unwelcome.
“That you used,” he finished for her.
She just nodded – she didn’t trust herself to say more. The guilt knotted unpleasantly inside her.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “That was far more powerful than I’d have expected.”
Something in the way he said it made her heart falter.
It wasn’t accusation this time... more like he was lost in the memory.
When he looked at her, there were several emotions warring on his face.
She wanted to read him, break her promise to herself and use her Lyran power, but she wouldn’t cross any magical line with him again.
Couldn’t. It would be up to him what he shared with her.
“It held me,” he said. “No one’s ever been able to do that before.”
She swallowed hard, heat prickling up her chest. It was certainly not something she was proud of. “I hated it,” she said. “Every second. It poisoned my magic.”
She opened her palms without thinking. The olive light erupted from her skin, cold and corrupted, so different from her warm emerald.
Sebastian locked on it instantly. He pushed back from her, his boots scuffing roughly in the dirt – crimson light in his own hands flaring to life, hot and defensive. Pure instinct. His body had braced against her as if she was... dangerous.
She snapped her hands shut, the dark green tendrils disappearing at once.
“I’m sorry – I wasn’t going to–” Her words tangled, desperate. “I’m sorry, Sebastian.”
Shit. Just as he was starting to talk to me.
His crimson stuttered but didn’t vanish as quickly as her own magic. “It’s fine,” he breathed. But it sounded anything but. She swore she saw a trace of shame cross his face before he turned away. “We should get some sleep.”
Without another word he unfurled the bedroll from his pack, and lay down with his back to her. A deliberate wall between them. She stayed sitting there, cursing herself.
Stupid! So stupid!
Of course showing him that only hours later would make him panic.
What had she been thinking? She dragged out her bedroll on the opposite side of the fire, angled so she could still see him through the flames.
Not that there was much to see. His shoulders stayed stiff a long time but eventually his breathing slowed and evened out.
She wondered if he was really asleep.
Or if he simply didn’t trust her enough to close his eyes.