Page 44 of The Iron Hex

She felt the familiar rush of the Flow, of her magic, as she conjured the spectral hand for the first time since she’d last been in this house. As the hand appeared, Eira looked to Hugo, who was watching her with what looked like a mixture of horror and awe.

Eira couldn’t blame him; magic was scary and unexplainableand beautiful. Eira never,never, felt more like herself than when she was using her magic. Now, she realized, it was probably because she’d been suppressing her abilities all this time. All the magic that she could wield being funneled through potions alone for years had left her body craving to use it for something more powerful. “Beatrice,” she said to the hand. “Please take me to the location where I stored my most secret documents years ago.”

“Oh,” Hugo whispered on an inhale, standing up straight as he realized what Eira was trying to do.

The hand paused, Eira’s heart racing in panic, worried that there was no hiding spot—that she’d put herself and Hugo at risk for nothing. Then, Beatrice zipped out of the room, Eira and Hugo chased after her as she flew down the stairs and into a now-empty kitchen cabinet. Eira watched the hand pry open one of the side walls of the inside of the cabinet to reveal a slim row of hidden shelving.

Oh. Viscountess Eirahadhidden something here.

“Thank you, Beatrice,” Eira said before dismissing the hand and leaning into the open cabinet, fishing out what was on the shelves.

There wasn’t much in the space: a leather-bound journal, a pearl necklace, and a bag of gold and silver pieces were all she came away with. Eira backed out of the cupboard and into Hugo’s warm, solid chest, spinning to face him. He was so, so close to her, their lips just inches apart. Pressed against his firm chest, Eira could feel his heartbeat pick up as he looked at her. A thought flitted into her mind—all she needed to do was lean forward, and she’d be kissing him.

“You used to wear that necklace every day,” Hugo rumbled, causing Eira to snap out of her reverie and start mindlessly flipping through the journal as a distraction as she stepped away. It appeared to be written in code, or at least in a language she didn’t recognize. His voice was thick as he continued. “The princess gave it to you. It’s made of Osnian pearls.”

Eira closed the notebook, vowing to decode it later when they were in a safer place. “Why do you think I hid it?” she asked.

Hugo gently took the necklace from Eira and held the pearls to the dim light shining through the windows, showcasing the multicolored light that refracted off of them. Eira had never seen anything like it before. “Osnian pearls are something special,” he said. “They reflect light like nothing from our seas do. You probably hid them because no simple potions witch in Cilirien would have a full necklace of them.”

“Right,” Eira said, taking them from him and holding up the bag of coin. “This would have also been useful at literally any point in the last three years.”

“What’s in the notebook?” Hugo asked, indicating the journal she’d put in the bag with her clothing.

“I figured we could read it once we were back at camp,” she said, just as the sound of voices outside of the front door drew closer, growing louder.

Hugo grabbed Eira and pulled her around the corner, pressing her against the wall where anyone peering into the ajar door or open window wouldn’t be able to see them, his hand on her mouth to keep her quiet. He removed his hand from her lips and placed a finger to his, their faces so close Eira could feel his breath and their bodies pressed against each other, Hugo’s hard lines pressing into her soft curves for the second time in as many minutes.

His hand rested on Eira’s neck and the contact set her skin alight where they touched.

“Sir Jason, we’ve had this argument before,” one male voice said from outside of the doorway. “Suffering even a potions witch to live in this town was always a bad idea.”

“Her sleep potion was pretty good,” answered what Eira assumed was Jason’s voice.

“All magic is bad magic, in my opinion,” the other voicesaid, and a shroud of sadness fell over Eira. How many people in town had been lying about their acceptance of her? The two men both stood at the doorway, and Eira desperately hoped they would stay there, or just leave.Don’t come in, she willed in their direction.

“Do you think she’ll come back?”

“She was colluding with that commander—or ex-commander, I guess, according to those big guys from the capital. Plus, the two of them murdered all those people in the Honeyed Horn that night, so if she was stupid enough to come back, she’d be asking to be thrown in jail... or executed.”

Eira’s mouth opened and she started to gasp before Hugo quickly put his hand over her mouth again, his other hand straying to the hilt of his sword. Worry filled his gaze as he stared toward the door, wound tight as a coiled spring with tension.

Eira hadn’t killed anyone that night, and neither had Hugo... thecommander. Eira began to sweat as she realized that Hugo hadn’t just been a knight of the Iron Empire; he’d been one of their leaders. Eira knew there was only a handful of Iron Retinue commanders, and they’d been awarded the honor for being the most vicious during the uprising—and during the witch hunts that had followed.

Hugo’s eyes dragged from the front door to Eira. She could see that he knew she’d figured it out—that she knew what he was.Whohe was. He silently begged her to keep quiet, to understand. Eira’s mind was a blank. She didn’t know what to think. Hugo had saved her time and time again since she had gone with him, but what did that mean when he’d also been lying to her?

“Well,” the voice that was likely Jason spoke. “We made our stop. Let’s get back to our patrol.”

Eira listened to the shuffle of boots grow distant as the two soldiers stepped away from her ransacked home. Hugo waited, hand still pressed to Eira’s lips as they both waited a beat longer than they needed to.

When the silence fell into a near ringing in her ears and Eira knew it was safe to finally move she immediately shoved Hugo, causing him to take a big step back. “Commander?” was all she said.

“Yes,” Hugo said flatly, emotion wholly absent from his voice.

“How could you not tell me?” Eira asked, shoving at his chest again, the rage blooming inside her white and hot. “What did you do?!”

“You don’t want to know,” he answered, stepping back into the kitchen and leaning against the countertop. “And nothing I’m proud of.”

“That doesn’t change anything,” Eira said as she followed him, anger rippling through her as she stormed in his direction. “I deserve to know if I’m supposed to trust you.”