Gods & Thieves ✔

29. Silver and Hug

When I finally wash and iron and make the towels and pillowcases as clean as they were given to me, it's already dark. On my way to the Great Temple's residential wing, I silently dispute with myself whether I should bring the laundry to Loretto right away or postpone with my truth till tomorrow, but I still come to no decision when I find myself at Loretto's doorstep, where my feet mechanically brought me.

Might be a sign. Might be a silly habit.

Might be both?

Just as mechanically, forgetful about the spell-lock, I turn the door's handle, and...it yields. A faint shimmering runs along the doorframe, the door clicking ajar, which means Loretto has, once again, set it to let me it.

Why? Surprised and a little worried, I step inside. The lights are off, nothing moving, and at first, I think Loretto hasn't returned from the library yet, but then my eyes land on the couch. My breath catches, scared of making noise. Half-seated in the corner of the couch, with an open book dropped on faer chest, Loretto seems to have chosen the most uncomfortable pose to fall asleep with one of faer legs dangling off the cushion and one arm twisted to pass for a pillow. Apparently, the unlocked door is still not an invitation to make peace. Maybe that's a sign, too. Or I want it to be to avoid talking about my feelings, deep down secretly afraid of them as well, because a weirdly disappointed relief washes over me?

As silent as I can, I put the laundry basket on the floor and almost turn to leave, but then my ever curious eyes settle on Loretto's rings collected in a small silvery heap on the coffee table. They gleam weakly in the moonlight seeping in through the window, nothing unusual, but the sight of them once again makes me wonder why my mentor neglects to wear them lately. I now realize that Loretto hasn't worn faer rings since the night I figured I could touch aura and began to actually learn to control magic.

Could it be connected somehow?

Approaching the coffee table, I reach for one of the rings to have a closer look, but the moment my fingertips touch the metal, Loretto gasps in faer sleep, and the ring stings my skin as though I've reached for hot iron. Like aura used to sting when I yet believed it was supposed to burn my plainblood's skin.

Alarmed, I jerk my hand away. My eyes flick toward Loretto, although fae is still asleep, then back to the rings. Did the ring sting me because of Loretto's gasp or did Loretto gasp because I tried to grab the ring? Or was it a coincidence? Or did my startled mind imagine the sting?

My thoughts tangling, I glance down at my fingertip. I can't see if it's red or scalded in the dark, but it definitely feels like it. Like dull throbbing as after a drop of boiling oil from the pan splashes you. The only logical explanation that pops up in my head is bizarre, because if I'm a shaman now, and aura can't hurt me, the thing opposite of aura that hurts shamans is silver-but Loretto can't wear silver jewelries! Fae is a shaman, too.

I don't have time to mull over this riddle, however, because Loretto gasps in faer sleep again. Loretto's breathing, measured and calm before, grows stifled and ragged, and faer eyelashes quiver as faer pupils dart from side to side under faer closed eyelids. I've never seen Loretto asleep before, and after witnessing faer unperturbed stance day by day, it's nearly impossible to believe Loretto, who always expresses only as much emotions as fae finds reasonable, can be having nightmares.

But it's clearly a nightmare.

I guess even magic can't cage the demons of your dreams. As Loretto keeps murmuring something agitatedly in faer sleep and faer ring-less fingers tremble against the book on faer chest, I take a careful step and sit on the edge of the couch beside faer, unsure what to do. Leave Loretto be? But I wouldn't want to be left in a nightmare if I were having one. Wake faer up? But it can only scare Loretto further...