An Affinity For Fire

51. Calio

Calio couldn't help feeling uncomfortable about the amount of books they were burning.

"Does it really need to be any bigger than this?" she asked, tossing another unfortunate book into the flames.

"I don't know," Leo said. He was standing watch at the door to the library, sword in hand. "The spell says, 'combust the combined items in a large fire,' so I don't suppose there's any harm in making it as big as possible. Also, it has to be hot enough for the items to actually combust, so it'll need a lot of fuel."

She sighed, taking another book from the shelf and rifling through the pages. "I hope nobody needs to know about... the history of slate mining any time soon." She flung the book across the room, onto the burning pile. "I cannot believe I have allowed a band of thieves to convince me to commit arson in a royal library."

"Well, technically, arson is usually on a whole building and not just-" he trailed off at the sight of her warning glare. "Never mind."

"Interesting," she said, still eyeing him coldly. "You'll pick me up on the inaccurate use of the term 'arson', but you don't seem to have any problem with the term 'thieves'."

He shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "We stole. That's the truth, whether or not we're proud of it."

"That wasn't Tarragon's view of the situation. When he explained everything, he was adamant 'thief' was a harsh term. Funny how he's more upset be the title than you, when he's the one who actually did it."

Leo flinched. "Wait- you're not angrier with him than with Clover an me, are you?"

Calio rolled her eyes. "Don't try to squirm out of blame now. Obviously, I'm livid with all three of you. But yes, he was the one that knocked out my guard and snuck into my chambers while I was naked and sleeping."

Leo stepped away from the door. "Look, Calio... you have every right to be angry, but please don't blame him. I was the one who didn't want to trust you. He begged me to let him ask you for the dagger instead of taking it. He has spent every moment since that night writhing in guilt. So, don't put this all on him. This is my fault, and I'm sorry. Blame me and hate me all you want, but don't hate him."

Calio's stomach churned. She clenched a fist, fighting against the bitter, furious flames begging to burst from her skin. "If you're asking me to forgive him, you're going to be disappointed."

"That's not what I'm asking," Leo said. "I just... I want you to know he never wanted to hurt you. I may be an advocate of ends justifying means, but means matter to him. He's... he's a good person."

Calio swallowed, refusing to dignify the statement with a response.

"Obviously, if you tell him I said any of that, I will vehemently deny it," Leo hastily added.

Calio scoffed. "Trust me, I am in no rush to tell him there are people with a positive opinion of-"

She stopped as the young man in question ran into the library with a sword in one hand and a small, leather bag in the other.

"Took you a while, didn't it?" Leo complained, striding towards him.

Tarragon scowled. "The corridors are crawling with assassins, pardon me for taking the scenic route." He turned to face Calio, eyes softening. "Nice work on the fire. It's perfect."

She blinked, forcing her features into a neutral mask. "Is that an attempt at flattery? Fates almighty, a red mage made a fire. Everybody applaud." She wasn't sure if she felt guilty or proud of his pained wince.

"Did you get it all?" Leo asked, tearing the boy's attention away from her.

"All here," Tarragon confirmed, opening the bag and reaching in. To Calio's horror, he pulled out a jar filled with what looked like raw flesh suspended in fluid. He held it out to Leo.