Page 22 of The Midnight Arrow
A lengthy silence passed after those words. I didn’t understand him. One moment he was telling me he wanted to see meunleashed…the next it felt like he was trying to warn me away.
The soapy water was icy in the basin, and I squeezed my fists together to get the blood flowing before I needed to start scrubbing the sheets.
“Here,” he murmured. “Allow me.”
I frowned, watching as he maneuvered himself toward me, all languid grace for someone so tall and large. When he reached the basin, he spread his palm across the surface of the water.
“What are you…?” I trailed off, my lips parting when I saw steam rise from the surface and an unseen current underwater jostle the fabric. “Lorik! Save your energy. This doesn’t matter.”
“It’s a small thing,” he replied, taking back his hand though the sheets continued to move in the basin. “Now your hands won’t be cold.”
And I realized itwasa small thing for him. I’d…I’d never seen…
It had hardlyphasedhim.
“You wouldn’t let me wash the sheets. You nearly took my head off when I asked,” he rasped, meeting my eyes. “At least allow me to warm the water for you and lessen the work.”
“I’ve never seen anyone channel their magic so quickly,” I commented, my hands hovering above the water as I knelt beside the hollow trunk. “That kind of magic is…”
Lorik leveled me a careful look. “The Allavari have lost their way. They’ve forgotten.”
“Forgotten what?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“Forgotten that magic is as natural as the air we breathe,” he told me. “This land is special, every layer of it. It’s alive. Even you have magic, Marion. It’s grown in you since you were born on Allavar. You pull it up from the ground you stand on, you fill your lungs with it in the sunlight, and you feel it drift over your skin like a silk sheet when you sleep.”
My lips parted. “I’m human. I don’t have magic. Not like the Allavari. I certainly can’t do”—I gestured to the basin—“that.”
“But you can keep all five species of glowflies successfully and befriend abraydus. Those are magical creatures, and they recognize that magic inyou. Have you ever thought it strange that they allow you so close?”
“There are people in the Healers’ Guild who keep glowflies,” I pointed out. “And I’m certainly not the first to have abraydusas a companion.”
Right?
Lorik went quiet as he studied me. Finally, he said, “Think what you wish, Marion. You say I can channel magic better than anyone you’ve seen? That’s because I understand that magic is an extension of myself, that it is rooted as deeply in me as I am in it. I understand there is balance in it. I don’t fight that. That’s something the Above world has also forgotten.”
The Above world?
“Taking without reciprocation only depletes magic. It needs to be refueled. Did you know that your cottage, your land has more magic than I’ve felt in the Black Veil? Than I’ve ever felt in Rolara?”
“Is that really true?”
He inclined his head. “Because you’ve allowed magic to bloom here—the glowflies being a large part of that. You tend to them, they produce for you. A symbiotic relationship. And you don’t expect more than they can give. A beautiful balance. You’ve done well here, Marion.”
That compliment was perhaps more flattering than any I’d heard from him. Even beyond the warmth I’d felt when he’d called me beautiful.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “That means a lot.”
His lips curled in a gentle smile. “There’s nothing to thank me for. It’s merely the truth.”
The sheets were still swirling in the basin, the water so hot it was practically simmering. I wondered how much effort that hadtaken him, when he should’ve been channeling every last scrap of energy into resting and healing. He was much better than he’d been yesterday, obviously. But I didn’t want him to take another sudden turn.
I was just about to ask him when he wanted to feed next, the question perched on the edge of my tongue, when his head snapped toward the Black Veil, his pointed ears twitching, the muscles in his chest bunching.
“What is it?” I asked, slight trepidation in my tone. “A Sever?”
“Too early for the veil to lift,” he murmured, his tone distracted. “But someone is nearing. I can feel them.”
Lorik stood in a graceful rise, silent despite his bulk. His wings unfurled, stretching in the late sun. I stayed kneeling at the basin, eyeing the property line, where the protection spell had been placed. But now…doubt had begun to creep in my mind. Was Lorik right? Was the spell even real? Or was itPeek? The protection spell certainly hadn’t helped against the thieves…only the Severs.