Page 104 of Reap & Sow

“At least for a time. There are rumors of Gateways yet remaining beyond the borders of our lands, unclaimed by any of the archdukes. But only rumors. If Gateways were so easily found, I daresay my kin would have sniffed them out already.” He twirled his apple core by the stem. “Baelion may take up this search. Failing that, he’d try to use a passing point.”

“A passing point?”

“Places of natural formation where the veil between our worlds is thin. It’s said that one might pass through, if they wish it.”

Eda bit her lip. “Like the mountains north of Dawnmouth. That’s where they used to harvest the obsidian to make Gateways, but the mines are all empty now.”

“Such areas are known to my people. The old magicks required to craft Gateways are less certain. Mostly lost with your pagan ancestors.” His eyes glittered. “It’s a matter of some resentment, among my kind, that humans surpassed us in this way.” He didn’t sound resentful. He probably found it funny. Mr. Night, she’d wager, did not.

“Say we do destroy Lich’s mirror. If Baelion’s is destroyed, too, and he’s trapped here, is that really a good thing? Keeping him among us like a fox in a chicken coop?”

Kit’s expression darkened. “He will be enraged, for certain. I’d pity any in his path. But the fewer Gateways remaining, the less power he can siphon from Infernus. A demon entirely cut off from his homeland’s magic is weaker for it. He would be easier to withstand.”

Eda sat up. “That means you would be affected too.”

He shrugged.

“You wouldn’t care if you were stranded here, less powerful than before?”

“I’d still be more formidable than the rest of you,” he scoffed.

Eda rolled crumbs beneath her finger. She peered at him through her lashes. “Will you stay and help? I’m not sure how far I’ll get sneaking around under Lich’s nose without the mantle.”

His brow twitched. When he spoke, his voice was deceptively light. “Do you want me to stay?”

Eda swallowed. “Yes.”

“Then I shall.” Before she could ruminate on how easily he agreed—as though her wanting a thing was reason enough for him to give it—Kit tilted his face toward her. “You don’t have to do any of this, you know. Let your brother give his ten years. Be done with Baelion and be done with Fane. You could go overseas, like you said.” He sat up, suddenly eager. “You liked Viola and the Viscount, didn’t you? In Forisia they have the Orbit, the greatest theater in the world. Only the very best thespians perform there, with the most opulent sets. On the continent they have a traveling circus where animals dance as menfolk do, and in the deserts of Rakesh, there are bazaars ten miles wide. I’ve heard you can buy birds that lay ruby eggs and sing for hours without tiring. We could see it all, Eda. Wherever you want.”

His eyes ran bright again, perhaps without him realizing it—magma over dull earth. In his devastating, beautiful face, Eda saw what he did: a spellbinding future where the whole world was theirs, glittering and golden.

It was a fairy tale.

“A lovely dream, to be sure.” She could muster nothing more.

Perhaps you would be happy enough to flit away some careless years at my side. I imagine they’re a drop in the ocean to you. But will you still be there when my time runs out? Would you stay with me to the end? Or would you leave, before you had to watch the truth of what your Pact has wrought?

His bright expression faltered at her reticence. Eda avoided his eyes and gathered a bucket, glad to find the water sufficiently warmed. The silence was unbearably loud. Keen to fill it, she made noisy work of hauling the first bucket to the wooden tub. She arranged the linen, poured the water in.

Kit was too quick to forget the fragility of mortal lives, including hers. I am not his little human toy to play with until he tires of me. Better that he did not get carried away with daydreams. Better he grow disillusioned with her now and leave, before the loss wounded her beyond repair.

Before she fell in love with an impossible dream.

Eda scattered the buds from the lavender bag. She arranged her hard-won soap, comb, and rosemary oil where she could reach them, then lowered herself into the fragrant water. It was of middling warmth and only reached the undersides of her breasts, but it was a luxury regardless. She sank as low as she could to enjoy the simple comfort.

Kit’s footfalls padded about the room, nearly too soft to hear.

“Don’t peek.” The screen hid the tub from most angles, but her warning came reflexively.

The footsteps paused. “You do know I’m not actually a lecher, don’t you?”

Just like that, the tension eased. Eda sighed. All her logical arguments withered to dust around his wine-and-lightning scent, beneath the warmth of his regard. It would be better if he stayed away. But she did not want him to.

He groaned as though stretching—a low, satisfied sound.

Slow down, Eda willed her traitorous heart, wet hands pressed to her chest. You cannot thunder so every time he nears.

She knew that Kit heard her sloshing about—every little sigh and sound—but he honored her demand for privacy. It felt strange to be naked with him in the same room.