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“What if I hadn’t heard it?”

Gwyn snorted. “Adira, I sensed your Soturi blood was bursting. That is the beauty of being a battle mage—your instincts are keen and sharp. I was certain you would sense the threat. But, I swear I would’ve told you to duck if you didn’t move.”

“Oh, well, many thanks.”

“My pleasure.” Gwyn fastened the bloody hilt back into an empty sheath over a long green dress, and followed me back to the main sitting room.

She took a chair at the table, eyed my quill and list, but took a handful of berries without a word.

The guest chamber door opened again, filled with Cy’s broad form. His fingers danced over the top of his head, completing the ridged plait down the center of his skull. My heart cinched. I loved him, I loved them all. To know such truths, the depth and length of our friendship since childhood, was enough to draw tears.

Asger, his meddlesome proclivity to fix all problems. Cy, his laughter and villainous love of unsettling others. Gwyn, her sincerity and loyalty to those in her heart.

Halfway through sheathing his guard’s blade, Asger locked me in his tight stare. “What’s the matter?”

“Her magic is alive,” Gwyn declared with vigor. “I just saw it.”

“Gwyn tried to stab me.”

“No.” Asger scratched the scruff on his chin. “There is something else that’s different.”

Together, Cy and Gwyn faced me, both with narrowed gazes, breaking through all my secrets. After no less than ten breaths, Gwyn drew in a sharp breath. “Magic is back, a little disheveled, a certain glow?—”

“Yes.” Cy circled me, like a damn wolf prowling. “Certainly a different countenance this bright morn. One, admittedly, I feel inclined to say I know well. You see, there’s a certain look after, wouldn’t you say, Gwynie?”

“That I would, Cyland.”

Cy’s salacious words cut the theatrics and spoke plainly. “Well, how was it?”

Oh.Oh. They knew . . . I, that Kage and . . .

I kicked his shin under the table once he sat. “Did you hear anything?”

“What, oh, what might I hear, Cricket?”

The nickname struck like a blow to the chest. My grin dissolved. “Why do you call me Cricket, Cy?”

“Subject shift. Understood. I won’t let it go for long, but I’ll indulge for a moment.” Cy paused. “I suppose it was the first name that came to me. I find it fitting, but I shall work on other options if you so desire.”

“You put a fire cricket in my hair,” I whispered. “During Warming studies when I was twelve. I screamed and screamed, and you felt a little bad, I think. That evening, you snuck me out of the dormitories and showed me how their wings light up when they chirp songs in the dark. I wasn’t afraid of them anymore, but you still called me Cricket.”

Cy had reached for the plate of berries and cheese, but his hand stalled.

“How do you know that?” Gwyn asked.

I let out a long breath and shoved my list their way. “As Gwyn said, my magic is freed. We went to the Well, but to restore my power, it had to show me things, I suppose to complete my belief in my own magic.”

“You saw the past?” Asger whispered.

“Some of it, but I should wait for Kage for this discussion. I wish I knew all the answers, but I think we will not know all until the curse is lifted.”

“Did it add to Kage’s degeneration?” Asger’s throat bobbed with his rough swallow.

“No. Actually, it seemed to hurt him less when he tried to remember things.”

As if summoned, Kage stepped through the door, dressed like a prince of beautiful dark dreams. Black tunic, black trousers, and his damp hair wavy to his shoulders.

Heat rose around the neckline of my dress, and my fingers twitched with the need—the obsession—to touch him again.