Page 97 of The Fake Divination Offense
“I told you it was a nuthouse,” Seb says with a grin. “You’re part of it now.”
Bel lingers, shifting on his feet, but bobs his head in reluctant acceptance.
I want to assure him again, promise it’s really, truly fine, but my focus goes back to Seb and I feel unsaid things hanging over us like a storm cloud.
Everythingwillbe fine. I have to make sure of it.
Bel keeps his head down as he gathers our dishes, puts them in the sink, and makes for my room, and it isn’t until the door clicks shut that I let myself breathe.
“All right,” I say. “Let’s hear it.”
Seb kneels by the coffee table as he arranges a stone, a lock, and a string. “Hear what? Thio, hand me the beeswax candle.”
Thio digs in the bag. “For a protection ward? You want the soy candle.”
“No—beeswax. It’ll be stronger.”
“Soywill be stronger.”
Seb glares at Thio, who’s holding out what’s probably a soy candle.
“Seriously.” I bend forward, elbows on my knees. “I know you’ve got opinions. So, say them, especially now, while Bel’s not around to hear. He already thinks you two will blame him.”
Seb gawps at me. “Why would we blame him?”
“For bringing me into this? I don’t know, he feels bad. I told him it’s nonsense.”
“Of course it’s nonsense. He didn’t choose to be part of a crazy family. We all know how that is.”
Thio grunts. “Genetics. Fucking brutal.”
“If he feels bad because he coerced you into protecting him,” Seb says, “then I’d hate him. But from the way he described it, that’s not what happened, and you both have an even playing field of reasons to distrust each other, so you’re kind of at a weird stalemate.”
My face scrunches. “What?”
“He could’ve been playing you this whole time to get you to become his handler—but it didn’t seem like it occurred to him that you were an option until you offered and the adventure party people agreed, andwow, that would’ve been a serious long game to play. You, on the other hand, could be planning to turn over Galaxrien’sdescendant to the Urzoth church, because I’m sure they’dlovebeing able to eliminate a tool of their god’s enemy.”
A stab of nausea bolts through me at the thought of people like Reverend Drach finding out who Bel really is. It isn’t just cultists I have to keep him safe from.
“But,” Seb continues, “even though you and I both know you’re not doing that, Bel doesn’t—”
“He does.”
“It’s still a big risk for him.” Seb shrugs. “So, stalemate. You both could be screwing each other over. But you’re not. Because I think, not so secretly, neither of you are maniacal psychos. You’re two big ol’ saps with hearts in your eyes.”
“I like him,” Thio adds. “I like him for you. He’s exactly who I always pictured.”
“Right?” Seb knocks Thio’s thigh with his fist. “A sweet little pink-haired amalgamation of Timothée Chalamet and Troye Sivan.”
“Timothée Chalamet!” Thio snaps his fingers. “That’swho he reminds me of, thank you.”
I blink at Thio, then Seb. “You don’t have anything else to say?”
“What more should we say?” Seb asks.
“That I rushed into this!” I hiss, fighting to keep my voice down. “It’s only been, like, a month, and it started as a PR stunt, and I have to commit to Urzoth indefinitely to keep him safe, and his entire life is dependent on me now, andthis isn’t healthy.”
I’m panting like that storm cloud unleashed and all the things I’ve been ignoring are crashing down on me at once.
