Page 66

But Skye only leaned against the open doorway with his arms folded and a smile on his face as he soaked in the ambient hostility.

Taly turned back to Ivain and Sarina. “Actually, never mind.”

Ivain’s aether rippled and tore at the air around him. “Taly, do I take it to mean you know what that thing is?”

Why was everyone always asking her that?

“Oh, she knows,” Skye said. “She’s been feeding it.”

Through the flames, Sarina looked aghast.

Taly shot him a glare. “You’re not helping.”

Skye smiled right back. “Wasn’t trying to.”

Shadow mages weren’t easily startled. It took a moment for Ivain to recover from it. But sensing no immediate threat, his aether finally banked.

Taking her cue from him, Sarina doused her flames with a wave of her arms. The smell of smoke lingered.

“Taly,” Ivain said, wary but also curious, in a morbid kind of way. “You have one minute to explain what that thing is doing here, and then I’m removing it. I did not just get you back to watch you be devoured.”

Taly had never been worried that Ivain and Sarina wouldn’t see Calcifer’s utility—and his cuteness—despite his unique nutritional requirements. But after Skye’s reaction, she figured it might be best to prepare.

One minute was more than enough. Holding out her hand, she used what little aether she had left to tug open a seam in the Weave. From nothing, a small remote fell into her palm.

Ivain blinked. “I’m sorry, you just…” He searched the ceiling like he might find a hole. “I suppose I’m going to have to get used to that again.”

An aquamirage projector—it used a water-based glamour matrix to project images. Taly turned to a blank wall and clicked a button. On the first slide, it read: Why Keeping My Interdimensional Time Beast is Beneficial for Me and Our Family.

“Shards almighty,” Sarina murmured, rubbing the space between her eyes. “Taly, we’ve talked about this—you can just ask us for things. We don’t always need a slideshow.”

“When did you have time to do this?” Skye asked, one brow arched.

“Shut up,” Taly said to them. “You know I compensate for worry with meticulous, heavily researched overpreparation. Stop cutting into my time.”

She clicked to the next slide. It read: Meet Calcifer. Beneath the title was a picture of him as a hatchling curled up in his teacup.

“Known scientifically as an Eldritch, a class of interdimensional beings that exist outside of traditional concepts of time, Calcifer is a unique creature with the ability to shapeshift and traverse dimensions. During a difficult time, he provided companionship and emotional support. He’s smart, well trained, and besides a few regrettable accidents when he was teething”—Taly quickly clicked through graphs detailing growth patterns and aether consumption—“he’s never taken more aether than what I give him.”

Claws dug into her neck as Calcifer adjusted his grip on her. Taly winced. “All those stories that paint mimics as bloodthirsty monsters”—she clicked to an illustration, weathered and yellowed with age, depicting a fearsome creature hidden in the shadows of a dense forest—“are grossly prejudiced overexaggerations. He refuses to feed when my aether is low. You could cut me open right now, and he wouldn’t drink a drop.”

The next slide read: Demonstration.

Three people rushed forward at once, though it was Ivain who reached her first, took the dagger as it fell into her hand, and said, “That won’t be necessary. You’re sturdier now, to be certain, but perhaps let’s save the bloodletting until after you get some of your color back.”

Sarina pressed a hand to her mouth. It took Taly a moment to realize she was… laughing.

Not the reaction she was expecting, but they also weren’t coming for Calcifer with pitchforks, so she took it in stride.

“I have more slides,” Taly said. She clicked through to one that read: Safety Measures.

“That… won’t be necessary.” Ivain blinked, seemingly even more bewildered when Calcifer blinked back with those pupilless, unnervingly blue eyes from over the top of her head. “I think we’ve heard enough.”

“He’s my friend,” Taly said, ready to beg if need be. “Please don’t send him away. I’m all he’s ever known. He can’t survive without me.”

Ivain’s expression softened. “You know that face makes me crumble.”

She did. She also knew it worked on Skye too.