Chapter Eleven

Gabriel had always put a certain amount of stock in fate. He liked to believe there was a reason, hidden underneath so many seemingly trivial excuses, that everything happened. It was true that he couldn’t often see such reasons himself, but this was one of those rare occasions in which he could see every interlocking detail with perfect clarity. It had been a long, difficult week; perhaps fate had waited to bring him here until he actually needed it.

His mother was, as usual, the billowing starting flag that triggered the chain of events that had led to this moment. She was busy, painfully busy, consumed with her own desire to win a position on the Council. It was an obsession he’d never fully understood. He’d met Amelia and her narrow-eyed consort a few times, and he couldn’t comprehend any desire to be like them. But Amelia’s was a position that Miriam coveted with an odd sort of passion, her voice full of rare fervor whenever she spoke of it, her eyes strangely bright even when the rest of her face was so empty and cold.

She’d been particularly involved in her desperate ambitions recently, and so any small misbehavior on Gabriel’s part had elicited a rather extreme reaction. He’d always managed to nose his way into mischief, driving his supposedly serene Guardian tutors to near madness. When he’d managed to convince his last keeper that the money Miriam paid her was not nearly worth it, his mother had locked him in the guest room closet, in total darkness, for two days. She’d left him four bottles of water, but nothing else, and let him know in no uncertain terms that if he scared away his next tutor, he was going regret it more than he regretted anything else in his young life.

Gabriel had rolled his eyes at the threat, but after a few hours alone in the small, dark closet with nothing but his own rambling thoughts to keep him company he’d sworn to whatever gods were listening that he would never cause trouble again if he could only be free.

The day after his release, while he was still treading lightly on eggshells to avoid a similar punishment, his kitten had accidentally knocked over a row of vastly expensive vases. He’d had to take the blame himself; his mother would likely have killed the kitten if she’d known it was at fault. And so, annoyed with his pleading (one wasn’t allowed to plead in Miriam’s house – or laugh, or cry, or even smile, all unbecoming actions in a Guardian), his mother had made him squeeze into the cabinet underneath the guestroom sink, locking the doors with a chain and a padlock, and making sure no light could creep into the room. This punishment had only lasted four hours, but it was long enough to have his legs cramping up and his back aching.

In fact, his back still ached. He’d only been released yesterday, and when his mother had told him over breakfast that morning exactly how worthless she found him, Gabriel had plotted exactly how to avenge himself for the words even as he kept his head down.

And so he’d decided to do something ridiculously bold and daring, something he’d never thought to try before. His mother’s study was really the only place in the house that was off-limits to him; why not take the time to explore it?

It had all sounded quite exciting in his head. But it hadn’t quite worked out that way. Most of the things in his mother’s office were pointless paperwork and dusty old books that held no interest to Gabriel. It was only when he’d flipped through an old address book that he found anything worth studying, and then he’d been so absorbed in it that he hadn’t even heard his mother approaching.

“Gabriel! What are you doing in here? You know you’re not allowed here!”

“Yes, mother,” he murmured, shuffling past her, through the doorway, and quickly running out to the garden behind their house before she could chastise him further. It was only when he was safely settled in his favorite spot (in a soft patch of grass, hidden underneath the sweeping branches of the oldest willow tree their yard boasted) that he pulled his stolen item from underneath his shirt, where he’d hidden it at his mother’s intrusion.

An old photograph, a bit crinkled, but the faces on the front were still distinguishable. On the right, his mother, her face a perfect marble statue, eyes as dark as his were pale. On the left, a man Gabriel had never seen before. He had grey eyes, not so pale as Gabriel’s but still similar enough to be striking, and a sort of half-smile that Gabriel immediately liked. It was an amused smile, as though he well knew the vast differences between himself and the woman his arm was wrapped around but could only find humor in it.

Flipping it over, Gabriel read again the caption written in his mother’s small, precise handwriting. Miriam & Max, Lowell Street Park. The date printed beneath it was a year before his birth. Eight years he’d been searching for proof such as this, and here it had been right under his eyes the whole time.

He’d avoided his mother’s study, not because it was forbidden (which, in fact, would only increase his desire to see it), but because he’d always associated it with trouble. From the time he was old enough to be in trouble, his mother had brought him here to announce in her coldly furious voice exactly what his punishment was to be. It was always some sort of confinement – a week in his room, a month in the house, two days in his closet. His mother well knew that the worst possible punishment she could inflict on him was confining him, restricting his movements. He absolutely hated it, and just looking at the study door reminded him of such things.

But he’d gone in anyway, all because she’d pushed him too hard. And he’d found the picture. And, when he flipped through the old address book it had been hidden in, he’d also found an entry for Max Reynolds.

And now, having packed a small bag of clothing and money he’d obtained through various means (a haphazard allowance, gifts from tutors who had faith in bribery, and, on one infamous occasion, dressing himself in raggedly old clothes and sneaking off to a street corner to beg), Gabriel stood in front of the house where a taxi had dropped him off a few minutes earlier. The house of his father. He liked the sound of that. His father’s house. His father. There was so much potential in those simple words. This was a puzzle piece fate had not yet sorted out for him, and he had no idea if all of these events were going to end in a lovely, intricate picture or a sloppy mess.

Taking a deep breath, Gabriel made his way up the narrow staircase that led to the front door. It was a small house, but seemingly well-kept. The lawn was freshly mowed, and a small, simple garden lined the front of the house. It was nice, Gabriel decided, homey. He knocked on the door three times in what he hoped was a serious but not too urgent sort of way. He could hear footsteps approaching before the door opened, and then he was too shocked to speak. There was the man from his picture, with the grey eyes Gabriel had inherited and a polite, if somewhat puzzled, smile.

“How can I help you, son?” Gabriel gasped; he couldn’t help it. He knew the man wasn’t actually referring to him as his son, but it still sent a thrilling chill down his spine.

“Max Reynolds?” he asked, even though there was no need. Still smiling, Max nodded. “I’m Gabriel.”

“Nice to meet you,” Max murmured as he shook the offered hand with a bemused sort of smile.

“I…do you remember a woman named Miriam?” Before Max could answer, Gabriel thrust his photograph out. Max took it and studied it for a few seconds before passing it back.

“Hard to forget a woman like Miriam,” he replied.

“She’s my mother. I was born eight years ago.” When Max didn’t reply, apparently not making any connections, Gabriel plunged on. “I think you may be my father.”

“Is that so?” Gabriel couldn’t tell by Max’s slow words what his real reaction to this news was. He nodded hesitantly, steeling himself for the probable rejection. But then Max’s smile widened and he stepped back, beckoning Gabriel through the doorway. “Well, then, I expect I should invite you in, son.”

Gabriel felt as though every minuscule but positive possibility that had ever existed was suddenly right in front of him, just waiting to be taken. Fate was finally showing him all of her cards, and it was certainly a winning hand.

How it had come to this, Luther didn’t know. He’d planned on spending his night at home, maybe watching an old movie or having a long bath. He’d spent most of the day at Imogen’s apartment, training under the eyes of Cadence and Rune. When they’d finally finished, he’d felt exhausted. Certainly not in the mood to go out anywhere.

Then, after the Guardians left, Imogen had grinned at him. It was a grin he knew well, and it only boded trouble. Before he even had time to groan, Im had wrapped an arm around a weary Noah’s shoulders (but not so weary that he couldn’t smile brightly at her, Luther noted with some annoyance) and said, “Lets catch a movie.”

“It’s almost ten.”

“Best time for horror movies.” Im’s grin widened. “And don’t worry, Luther will protect you. He’s the badass First, after all.”

“I am not going anywhere,” Luther said firmly. Im rolled her eyes at him.

“Don’t be a party-pooper, Luther.” Luther could only stare at her, one eyebrow raised in a condescending sort of look that he knew he pulled off quite well.

“Party-pooper?” he echoed slowly. Imogen ignored him.

“But Noah will go, won’t you Noah?”

“Uh…sure, I guess.” Noah absently lifted one hand to scratch at his messy hair. Luther sighed softly.

“I suppose I’ll have to supervise.”

“Yeah, supervise,” Im said, grinning at him.

And so Luther found himself squished between Imogen and Noah in a semi-crowded movie theatre, listening to the completely uninteresting pre-movie show. Imogen had conned him into buying a big tub of popcorn by getting Noah to admit that he wanted some, and Luther was still a little angry about it.

“You look a little nervous, Noah,” Imogen said, leaning around Luther.

“I do?” Noah, who had been happily munching on popcorn, looked rather surprised by her observation. Luther sighed, but quietly.

“Oh yeah. You know, I find it sometimes helps if I don’t have an armrest between me and the person beside me. Then I don’t feel so alone,” Im told him helpfully.

“Imogen,” Luther growled softly, but she was ignoring him. Noah tilted his head in a thoughtful sort of way and shrugged.

“If you say so,” he murmured, lifting the armrest. He smiled apologetically at Luther, and Luther unwillingly smiled back before turning to glare at Imogen. She just beamed angelically and snatched a handful of popcorn.

“Do you go to the movies very often, Luther?” Noah asked as he wiped butter off his hands with a napkin. Luther shrugged, silently ordering himself to remain calm.

“I did when I first moved out of my mother’s house. Roxanne didn’t like movie theatres so it was a bit of a luxury at first, but it grew boring quickly. And I don’t like crowds.” Luther took a piece of popcorn. Even though he didn’t particularly like it, it gave him something to do with his suddenly restless hands.

He was annoyed with himself for answering Noah’s question so expansively; a simple “no” would have been sufficient. However, his annoyance did not prevent him from answering Noah’s next question (“What genres do you prefer?”) with too much unnecessary information. At the end of his answer, as a means of preventing another innocent question that would no doubt lead to Luther revealing more information than he wished, he added, “And you, Noah?”

“Anything.” Noah beamed at him, and it was such a mesmerizing expression, almost childlike in that it was so obviously sincere, that Luther felt lighter just for seeing it. “I love movies. Even bad ones. It’s a ridiculous obsession really, but I just love everything about going to a movie theatre. Especially the popcorn.”

“Ah,” Luther said and, because his response seemed a bit lacking, “That makes sense.”

“Yeah.” Noah looked amused as he swallowed yet another mouthful of popcorn. “I guess it’s my little utopia, my slice of heaven on Earth. God, I sound ridiculous, don’t I? Heaven on Earth?”

“Not at all,” Luther said, quickly looking away as Noah sucked butter off his fingers. “I’m sure many people have such a place, somewhere they can feel completely comfortable and happy.”

“And mine’s the movie theatre,” Noah said dryly. He was silent for a moment, munching on more popcorn. “What’s your little utopia place, Luther?”

“Me?” Luther wasn’t sure why he was surprised by the question, but it seemed far more difficult than it actually was. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found it yet,” Noah said lightly, and Luther was saved from responding when the movie started.

“That was possibly the worst hour and a half of my entire life,” Luther announced in a voice loud enough to earn a few curious glances from nearby pedestrians. Noah couldn’t help smiling at his dramatic tone.

“Don’t be a drama queen, Luth,” Im chided.

“Think of it as a learning experience,” Noah said quickly, as Luther’s face had began to turn an alarming shade of red.

“A learning experience,” he echoed sharply.

“Yeah.”

“And what, pray tell, have I learned? That adolescent girls can scream at a pitch human ears can scarcely comprehend?”

“Sure,” Noah said, grinning helplessly. “But I was thinking something more like what movies to avoid in the future.”

“I knew well enough to avoid this one,” Luther grumbled, and Noah patted his back comfortingly, ignoring the way he suddenly tensed, obviously startled by the touch.

“Well, I wouldn’t say you really wasted your time. At least you got to hang out with your friends, right?” Noah hadn’t meant to say it, but he couldn’t help testing the waters, so to speak. He bit his lip while Luther pondered his reply.

“I suppose that might almost be an acceptable exchange for the horror of that film.”

“Seriously, Luth,” Im muttered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “You are practically a teenage girl yourself. You have no right to complain about your on-screen compatriots.”

While Luther mumbled something unintelligible in response, and Im, having apparently understood him, argued back, Noah covered a loud yawn with a hand that still smelled like butter. It was Friday, at least, so he didn’t have class the next day. He was really going to have to find some way to balance school and training with the Guardians. But at least he’d already finished his last day of work at the library and received a surprisingly impressive paycheck from the Guardians. Well, impressive to him at least. With no bills to pay, he only needed money for food. Any leftovers fell into his meager savings account.

“Tired, Noah?” Im asked as he yawned yet again. He shrugged.

“Yeah. No studying for me tonight.”

“Why don’t you stay the night at my place? My couch is pretty comfortable, I think. And my apartment’s much closer than your dorms.” Noah shrugged again. Perhaps he’d barely known her for a week, but Noah already thought of Im as a good friend. And she didn’t appear to be looking for anything more than friendship from him, so that made Noah trust her all the more.

“If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.” Im started to say something else and then stopped as they both realized Luther was standing perfectly still a few steps behind him. “What’s wrong, Luth?”

“You cannot invite him to stay the night at your apartment,” he said stiffly. Noah started to quickly offer to just stay at his dorm instead, but Im spoke before he could.

“And why the hell not?”

“Why not?” Luther shrieked, throwing his hands in the air in an impressively dramatic fashion. “Because it is entirely inappropriate, Imogen! What are you thinking? Do you want everything to end up just the way it did before?”

“Oh, don’t even start with that bullshit, Luther. We’re not dating so me screwing Noah is not going to fuck up any emotional bond between the Three. And besides which, it’s not like I just offered him my favors for the night. Just a place to sleep since we’re out so late.”

“How did it end before?” Noah asked, unsurprised when he was completely ignored.

“Don’t pretend you don’t have an ulterior motive! You cannot possible believe that it would be acceptable for Noah to spend an entire night alone with you!”

“Oh, what the fuck ever, Luther! You’re just too fucking jealous to stand it!”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard! I have never…” But whatever Luther had never done would have to remain unspoken, as at that exact moment a rather strong wind whipped through the air, strong enough to throw Noah against the brick storefront they stood in front of. Luther immediately stepped protectively over him, scanning the street with dark eyes. Im stood at his side, looking oddly nervous for a few seconds before straightening her shoulders and glaring menacingly into the shadowy street.

“Show yourself!” Luther ordered sharply, his voice demanding obedience. Even as he catalogued the various pains he felt along the right side of his body, Noah couldn’t help but feel impressed by the amount of authority in Luther’s voice. It was absolutely amazing.

“Ooooh, what a bossy First we have this time around.” The voice was annoyingly high-pitched, too much so to be the speaker’s real tone. Noah searched the shadows for its source but found nothing. “I feel so frightened, I think I’ll just have to obey.”

“Finn,” Luther whispered, sounding more annoyed than frightened, which Noah hoped was a good sign. Anything that could throw an (admittedly small) grown man into a building was going to make him nervous, but hopefully Luther was stronger.

“Ooooh, he knows my name! Be still, mine wild heart, and do try not to implode from the ecstasy of our name falling from such glorious lips.” Finn (or at least Noah assumed it was he, as the strange voice seemed to be coming from him) stepped under the streetlight, one hand pressed dramatically to his chest. He was very thin and bony, with a completely bald head that shone in the dim light from the streetlamp and huge, bright brown eyes. “Come now, my beautiful one, don’t leave me to the misery your absence brings me.”

“Finn, love, we’ve a higher purpose here than flirting with the First, however amusing that pastime may be.” Noah flinched at the sound of Gabriel’s voice, and he noticed the way Luther’s body tensed. Im offered him a hand and yanked him quickly to his feet, keeping him behind her and Luther. Protecting him, he realized, and felt his heart warm at the thought, despite the fear the situation warranted.

“Oh but Gabriel, look at him. Golden hair and flashing eyes, his is the voice that chases the winter chill from the wounded hearts.” Finn’s eyes seemed to dart everywhere, and Noah felt a very real chill every time they fell on him.

“What is your purpose?” Luther growled. His hands, Noah noticed, were clenched into fists that rested tensely on his thighs.

“Peace, Luther,” Gabriel murmured, smirking. He buried his hands in his pockets and took another step forward, taking his place beside Finn. “We are not here to cause you harm.”

“Well you banged Noah up pretty badly for not being here to harm us,” Im snarled. Gabriel shrugged, aiming a careless smile at Noah.

“I see no lasting injury on the Second.” Gabriel rested a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “Can you really blame my friend for wishing to make an impressive entrance? We’ve learned it takes much to impress a Guardian into listening.”

“We’re listening, though I can’t say we are particularly impressed.” Luther’s voice was cold now, and Noah was sure he could feel an icy breeze in the air.

“Frankly, love, I don’t believe you. If you were truly listening, you would have seen the folly of your actions a long time ago.” Finn let out an obnoxiously high-pitched laugh, causing Noah and Im to jump. Gabriel dropped his hand from Finn’s shoulder and took another step toward Luther. “It isn’t too late, you know. Lazarus is still willing to forgive your foolishness. He would welcome you with open arms, love. Think of it, Luther, a home where you could truly belong. It could be like it used to.”

“Never.” Luther’s voice was still cold, but softer now. Gabriel’s smile turned slightly bitter.

“I had hoped you would be wiser than that.” Gabriel’s eyes flickered to Noah. “And you, Second? Have you seen the error in your choice?”

“No.” Noah found his voice was a bit squeakier than he liked, but his throat was not quite working properly.

“Lazarus shows no mercy to traitors.” With no other warning than that, a fresh burst of wind struck, throwing Noah back into the wall. His vision went dark for a second as his head crashed into the brick and then he was on the ground and he could see flames dancing across the road. Luther stood amidst them, Finn cackling in front of him. Noah blinked, coughing in the sudden smoke. Then there was water everywhere, and he could dimly see Finn disappearing under a violent wave of it. His vision swam again, and when it finally cleared it was to find Imogen leaning over him, blood dripping from a gash on her temple.

“Noah!” Her fingers gripped his arm, hauling him to his feet. “Come on, Noah, we have to get back. Luther thinks Gabriel went for help.”

Noah blinked a few times, finally focusing enough to see the scene before him clearly. Finn was on the ground, unmoving, in a puddle of water. Luther stood over him, arms spread out, drawing the water in to him. His hair danced in the wind, his eyes shining; Noah thought he looked like an avenging angel.

“We’re only a few blocks from the apartments. There are enough wards around them to keep the Litha out, should they track us there.” Luther turned around, and Noah gasped before he could stop himself; Luther’s eyes were a thousand shades of blue, colors crashing like ocean waves. Noah wasn’t sure whether fear or irresistible attraction was strongest of the emotions warring within him.

“What about Gabriel?” Im asked, seemingly unable to take her eyes off Finn’s lifeless form.

“He’s gone for now.” Luther’s otherworldly eyes followed her gaze. “He’s not dead. Just unconscious. Guardians do not believe in killing others, even in self-defense.”

“You aren’t a Guardian.” Im said softly, and Noah couldn’t tell if she was relieved or disappointed.

“No,” Luther agreed simply before leading the way down the street.

The short walk seemed to last a lifetime. Every shadow became a hulking monster to Noah’s fervent imagination, and only Im’s arm around his waist kept him from throwing himself into the nearest corner to hide. He felt dizzy and slightly nauseous, and was vaguely aware that these were probably results of his injuries. But there was no time for that now. He tried to keep his gaze firmly focused on Luther, who strode down the sidewalk with a purpose that inspired Noah’s feet to keep moving.

His knees gave out the moment they passed through the doors, and Im could only react in time to slow his fall. He smiled involuntarily as Luther’s face loomed above him, eyes still restlessly shifting.

“Why do they do that?” he asked. Luther frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Your eyes,” Noah said, lifting a hand to trace a finger over Luther’s eyebrow. “Why do they change color?”

“Power,” Luther said softly, lids fluttering closed as Noah’s finger gently brushed over them. “It happens when I use the water.”

“Does it happen to everyone?”

“No. Only some.” Luther’s hand caught Noah’s wrist and gently pulled it away, eyes opening again. “We need to get upstairs now; Im’s already gone to call the Guardians. You are both in need of a Healer.”

“Yes,” Noah agreed gravely, eyes closing. “Sleepy.”

“I know, but you cannot go to sleep now.” Luther squeezed his wrist a bit harder and Noah’s eyes flew back open. “Noah, look at me. You cannot go to sleep. You have to stay awake until Patrick gets here.”

“Can’t.” Noah couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He could feel Luther’s hands squeezing his shoulders, and then everything was black.

“He’ll be fine.” Patrick had one of those soothing voices that seemed capable of seeping into one’s soul, healing every wound and erasing every scar. It grated on Im’s nerves as she scratched at the bandage on her head, already annoyed with the thing. “It was just the aftereffects of the air that made him so tired. The head injuries didn’t help, but he’s not seriously injured. I’ve already healed the concussion; when he wakes, he will suffer only from a slight headache.”

“Thank you, Patrick,” Rune murmured, though the healer’s words had been meant for Luther, who was glaring at Noah’s sleeping form as though the boy was responsible for his current state.

“Of course. Let me know if anything changes.” Rune nodded once and turned to his sister. “Cadence?”

“I’ll make sure he gets home,” she said, sounding slightly annoyed as she took the Patrick’s arm and the two of them disappeared in a shower of silvery dust. Im glanced at Luther’s face and decided he needed some alone time to brood; it was in his nature.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked Rune. His odd eyes seemed amused as he too glanced at Luther.

“Please.”

“Luth?” Im asked, for the sake of appearances. Luther shook his head, arms folded over his chest. He looked like a sulking three-year-old who’d just thrown a fruitless tantrum.

Im found some expensive looking beer in the back of Luther’s fridge and offered a bottle to Rune, who shook his head and poured himself some water from the sink. Im shrugged and popped open her own bottle.

“No alcohol for Guardians?”

“We imbibe the occasional glass of wine, but as for myself, I don’t much care for it. Cadence enjoys it, though.”

“She seems the type.”

“Is there type?” Rune asked, sounding amused. Im shrugged and took a seat on the counter, patting the empty space beside her. Rune hesitated for a moment before joining her.

“Yeah, and innocent, do-gooder Guardian is not it.”

“I take it that description is meant to fit me?” Rune’s voice chimed with laughter. Im shrugged again.

“Yeah.”

“It sounds a bit boring, I fear.”

“Says the man who refused a beer.”

“Point for Miss Tremaine. But I would like to say, in my defense, that I have most certainly not lead a particularly boring existence.”

“It’s Im.”

“Sorry?”

“My name. Call me Im.”

“Im,” Rune echoed slowly.

“And not having a dull life does not mean that you aren’t boring.” Im wasn’t sure where the words were coming from. She could only assume that the gash on her head had rattled her brain a bit and made her suddenly talkative.

“Ah, but you’re a hard one Im.” Rune’s eyes rested on her drink and, with a quiet sigh Im didn’t think she was meant to hear, he grabbed it from her and took a long swallow. Im watched, silent, as he sat absolutely still for a few seconds. His expression didn’t change, but his eyes looked slightly horrified. “Disgusting,” he pronounced, and Im couldn’t help laughing.

“I don’t think that helped your argument.”

“Yes, well, at least I tried.” He studied the bottle in his hands. “Do you drink this often?”

“Too often, if you ask Luther.” Im pushed her hair back, resisting the urge to scratch beneath her bandage. “But it’s relaxing, at least.”

“It’s revolting,” Rune corrected. Im shrugged, because suddenly she could think of nothing else to say. “You’ll have to move into a safe house, I think, after this. The Council is not willing to risk the Three.”

“Where?”

“Roxanne will probably wish for you to stay with her.”

“No,” Im said immediately.

“No,” Rune agreed. “I don’t believe the Council will allow that. It’s certainly not what Cadence and I will recommend. We will try to find somewhere quiet, where we can place enough wards to ensure your safety.”

“I suppose it would help if Luther wasn’t the only one who could defend himself.” Im couldn’t help the bitter note in her voice. She was surprised when Rune’s hand rested on her own for a brief second; Guardians weren’t generally big on touching.

“Luther has been training for his entire life; you have barely even begun. It is through no fault of your own that your enemies have had years to learn their skills.” Im almost felt comforted by his words, but decided not to read too much into it just yet.

“What exactly did they do? Gabriel and Finn, I mean?”

“Gabriel has the gift of air, as you do. He knocked you over with it, and likely caused Noah’s exhaustion with it, but otherwise he stayed out of the fray. It was Finn who set the fire; he’s another pet of Lazarus’s, though not quite as beloved as Gabriel. He’s a bit mad, as I hear it.”

“As you hear it? Are Guardians allowed to gossip?”

“There you go again, insinuating that I’m boring.” Im laughed softly. “It’s not gossip. We know something of every Litha under Lazarus’s rule; it is necessary in overcoming them.”

“Of course,” Im said. As she searched for something better to say, Cadence appeared before them, eyes honing in on the drink that was still in her brother’s grasp.

“Rune!” she cried, sounding amused and perhaps a little shocked. “Have you been drinking?”

“Of course not,” he said quickly, pressing the bottle back into Im’s hands. She bit back a chuckle. “Merely experimenting.”

“I’m sure.” Cadence’s eyes flickered to Im’s face and then back to Rune. “I’ve seen Amelia. She wants us to find a house for them by noon tomorrow so they can begin warding it. I’ll double-check the wards here, and then we’ll leave.”

“I’m ready,” Rune said pointlessly, as Cadence had already disappeared. He slid off the counter and turned back to Im. “It was nice to speak with you outside of training. You have proved a very…enlightening conversationalist.”

“Thanks.” Im grinned. “But really, even your compliments are boring.”

“Was that a compliment? I’m not altogether sure that was the intent.”

“Of course it was.”

“If you say so.” Im bit her lip at the silence that followed, and covered her uncertainty with a few gulps of beer. She jumped, nearly choking on her drink, when Rune suddenly thrust his hand out. Setting her beer on the counter, Im reached out to shake it.

“Later,” she mumbled as Cadence reappeared and Rune’s hand was suddenly back at his side. He nodded once in her direction and then both Guardians were gone.

“Guardians,” Im muttered after reclaiming her beer. “So fucking weird.”