City of Spells (Into the Crooked Place #2) - Alexandra Christo Page 0,49
tidbit in front of her. He didn’t want her to think of him as powerless, but he didn’t quite know how to hide it.
“She’s fine,” Wesley said. “I tried to get through to her, but Ashwood has his claws in deep. I don’t know if she can see reason. I wanted—”
He broke off.
I wanted to take her with me, he thought. I wanted to save her.
“She’s a little lost right now,” he said.
“I’m not giving up on my sister,” Saxony said.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
Tavia let out an audible sigh, stepping in front of Wesley like some kind of a shield. “Many Gods,” she said. “He’s been back five minutes.”
Saxony’s jaw tensed and Wesley looked between them curiously. Something had fractured their bond, and that only made this forest seem more peculiar.
“How about we stop the interview and try asking if he’s okay?” Tavia said. “Or if he wants a healer? Or a damn nap? I mean, look at him!”
Wesley wished that they wouldn’t.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Apparently, I’m a badass Crafter, so I can heal myself. And a nap sounds boring.”
The lie was so easy that he hadn’t even considered telling the truth.
“How about a new suit and some food though?” Wesley asked. “And what I wouldn’t give for a pint of Cloverye.”
Tavia laughed. “Sure. I happen to know a great cook.”
“If you’re talking about yourself, then I’d rather not get food poisoning.”
She smacked him on the shoulder and the lights in her eyes danced.
“It’s good to have you back,” she said.
Wesley smiled at her, best he could.
He’d wanted to get here so badly and resume business as usual, fall back into the routine and feel as at home with these people as he did in Creije. He thought that once he got here it would be like putting on an old suit.
It had seemed so simple when he stood at the edge of the window with the Onnela Sea and all the dead of Tisvgen calling out to him from below. Surely the torture was the hard part. Surely being back with people he trusted was easy.
Except that wasn’t true.
Wesley couldn’t let his guard down here any more than he could with Zekia, because these people needed him to be okay and if they knew how weak he felt, then they wouldn’t rely on him.
If he wasn’t strong, then he was no use to anyone.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tavia asked, searching Wesley’s eyes for all the things he hid.
Wesley swallowed and kept the smile strong on his face.
“I’m always okay,” he said.
15
Tavia
IT WAS RAINING IN RISHIYA and Tavia sat with her legs hanging from the tree house edge. The Uncharted Forest was beautiful and when the water hit the leaves just right, the entire city looked like it was made of stars, deep green leaves glistening and tree roots stretching across the muddy sky to stow their thirst.
Wesley had just finished up in his shower and was currently trying on the new suit Tavia had gotten him from one of the buskers in camp. She’d been prepared to trade her knife for it, but it turned out that being a leader meant free gifts as a perk. Besides, when the guy had heard it was for Wesley, he’d all but stripped off in the middle of the clearing.
Tavia unscrewed the cap from the bottle of Cloverye and placed it on the floor beside her, next to a single glass.
“This is a little tight around the shoulders,” Wesley called from the spot in the corner where he was changing behind a makeshift curtain.
“Must be from all those bulging muscles you have,” Tavia said sarcastically.
“Must be,” Wesley said back. “I did see you noticing earlier.”
Tavia took a drink to keep from killing him, but she was surprised when she brought the bottle to her lips and realized that she was somehow smiling. She’d missed this. She’d missed him, from the warm husk of his voice to his irritating sense of humor.
“I was going to come for you,” Tavia said. “As soon as I found out where you might be. But then Karam left and the buskers were so uneasy.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Wesley said. “It was too dangerous and you—”
“Excuse me,” Tavia interrupted. She slammed the bottle down hard enough that a puddle spilled out onto the floor. “I’ve been leading a horde of buskers while you were gone. I can handle myself.”
“I just meant that it wouldn’t have been worth the risk,” Wesley said.