was, and that he hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours; thus, he needed to let me put him to bed. And if I joined him, making sure he was well loved before he rested, well, who was to complain?
Our living area showed no sign of a blond-haired, blue-eyed arcanist, which made me tsk to myself in irritation. I glanced upward and tried to decide if it was worth interrupting Hallow to tell him about the Eidolon, then decided that he’d had long enough to commune. “It’s time we do something,” I said aloud, climbing a short ladder that was used to reach the upper levels of the tall bookshelves that lined the tower before clambering onto a small landing, and proceeding through a narrow door to an even narrower stone passage that wound upward to the top level of the tower. I eased the door open, worried I would interrupt Hallow in the middle of a spell or incantation, but although the scent of smoke and incense wafted through the open door to me, there was no noise from within.
I poked my head through the opening. Sunlight flowed through crescent shaped windows, making motes of dust dance in the air, and leaving warm, golden pools shimmering across the stone floor. Unlike our living quarters, this room was bare of all except a small table, a plethora of candles that had burned themselves out, and one prone arcanist, lying in the center of the circle of candles, a sheaf of papers on his chest.
“Hallow?”
His body lay still. Too still, without movement or breath.
Fear dug into me with sharp little claws of despair, sending me forward with a sob caught in my throat. “Blessed Kiriah, no! Hallow, my love!” What had happened? Had his magic gone awry? Had the other arcanists done something to harm him?
I was across the floor before the last word left my lips, kneeling beside the prone form of the man who had so wholly captured my heart the year before, tears pricking painfully at my eyes when I reached a shaking hand out to him. He lay so still, his beautiful burnished hair splayed on the floor, a similar golden stubble covering his jaw and chin. “I can’t…Hallow, I can’t do this without you…goddesses of day and night, help me!”
“Hrmph?” To my utter stupefaction—followed immediately by joy, and a few seconds after that, anger—Hallow gave a little snort, rubbed his nose, then turned his head to peer at me with sleepy eyes. “What did you say?”
“You…you…” I wanted to laugh and cry and yell. I wanted to shake him, and kiss him, and strip the blue arcanist’s robes he’d donned for the communion from his body, and show him just how much I’d missed him. Instead, I grabbed the papers on his chest, and smacked them onto the top of his head. “I thought you were dead, you great oaf! Don’t you ever scare me like that again!”
“Dead? Me?” He sat up, rubbing first the top of his head, then his face. He yawned, the rat, his eyes warm despite the rich blue hue that characterized all users of arcane magic. “What made you think that?”
“You weren’t breathing.” I put my hand on his chest, over his heart, just to reassure myself. “Your chest wasn’t moving at all.”
“Of course it was. You just didn’t see it because you were too busy ogling my manly form.” He smiled, making me feel as if I had been lying out in a summer field receiving Kiriah’s warmth. Then, with a hand on the back of my neck, he pulled me forward to kiss me, murmuring against my lips, “My heart, I can’t promise that we will leave the mortal plane together, but I can swear that we will not be long parted in this world or the next.”
I allowed myself to be mollified, and would have given in to the temptation that he posed but just as I slid my hand inside the neck of his robe to stroke his chest, he leaped up, saying, “Bellias blast me to the stars and back. It’s morning?”
“Yes, and if I were any other sort of woman, I’d take umbrage with the fact that you clearly don’t want me to do more than ogle your manly form.”
He laughed and pulled me to my feet, giving me a swift kiss as well as pinching my behind. “You know full well there is nothing I would rather do than dally with you in bed…and on the green couch…and that rug with the white fur that you said tickles your legs…but there is much we need to do before the day is gone. I must have fallen asleep after dispersing the arcany that built up during the communion.”
His eyes were lit with a glint that I had once thought was him laughing at the world, but now knew was simply his joy of life. I stopped him as he headed through the door, my gaze searching the face I loved so dearly. There was an air of suppressed excitement that didn’t fool me. “You found the two stones?” I asked.
“I didn’t, but Avas located one.” He smiled again, his hands on my arms as he gave me a little squeeze. “He was passing through Ilam, and he sensed the presence of one of the stones close by.”
“Ilam?” I asked, confused. “But that’s in the High Lands of Poronne, isn’t it?”
“Aye.” His eyes positively danced with mirth. He waited, clearly expecting me to piece together the clue he’d just given me with what I knew about Exodius.
“Why would Exodius send a stone to the lands held by the Tribe of Jalas…Kiriah’s nostrils, tell me he didn’t give it to the ice queen?”
His smile turned into a cheeky grin. “One of these days, you’re going to have to get your jealousy of Lady Idril under control. And no, Exodius didn’t give it to her.”
“I’m not in any way jealous of Idril. Her life choices are not mine. The fact that she threw over Deo to marry his father is neither here nor there. If I had wanted Deo, I could have had him.”
“Yes, I’m perfectly aware that your boyfriend claimed kisses from you before I did,” Hallow said with a pointed look that was softened by the twitch of his lips.
“He was never my boyfriend,” I said automatically, then clicked my tongue in disgust. “Exodius must have given the stone to Idril’s murderous father.”
“I’m not going to comment about the methods a man must use to control as many fractious tribesmen as Jalas controls,” he said evenly, taking my hand and pulling me after him down to our tower room. “But you are correct—Avas felt a stone’s presence in Jalas’s keep.”
“That means we just have one to find if Avas retrieved Jalas’s stone.”
Silence met my statement.
“Avas did get the stone, didn’t he?” I asked, watching when Hallow, having released my hand, pulled out two stiffened leather packs from under our bed, hauling them around the screen that gave us a modicum of privacy.
“No.” The humor in his eyes faded a little when he went to the shelves that held baskets containing our clothing. “Jalas would not admit he had the stone, and when Avas tried to locate it, there was an incident with a bear.”
“A what?” I gawked at him, absently pulling out a few garments I used when we traveled: my old Bane of Eris tunic and leggings, a robe designating me as a priestess of the temple of Kiriah Sunbringer, and my one nice gown of a rich, very soft garnet velvet that Hallow had given me on the day we were wed. I had only worn it once—on the night of our wedding, and then only for a few minutes before he stripped it from me, saying it made him mad with lust—but I felt strongly that if we were going to the court of Jalas and his perfect, never ruffled daughter Idril, then by the twin goddesses, I was going to look the picture of elegance.
“Evidently Jalas has a pet bear.” Hallow stopped tossing clothing
