Page 28 of A Fate of Blood and Magic (Fated #2)

Chapter

Twelve

TEDDY

Many of the lirio in Tera Insaldame greeted me warmly.

It was nice, but also strange to find that I liked the village and every lirio I once feared.

It’d taken a little longer than I’m proud to admit to become accustomed to the way they looked, especially when I remembered how easily they had killed back in Colina.

I moved on the cushion I sat on in Koa and Bon’s hut. I wasn’t sure how their roof held with the branches they’d twined together, but it kept the snow out and somehow kept their open space warm.

“I don’t know what to say,” I told Bon, who cradled her youngest against her chest. Mimesoa lay contentedly, babbling as she looked at her mom.

Bon blinked her depthless, black eyes, but being familiar with her and her family, I saw the kindness that shone from them. “It was Koa’s decision to go with Elias.” The baby in her arms cooed.

My throat thickened. “He didn’t have to.”

And maybe he shouldn’t have, especially when Ilgirth had refused to meet Elias outside their village. While Elias had wanted to apologize, I couldn’t blame Alastor for not forgiving him.

Still, gratitude stuck in my throat, making my eyes burn.

“He wanted to watch over your mate to make sure he came back home safe to you.” She dipped her head down while she gently caressed her baby’s face with a long finger.

“I shouldn’t have permitted Koa to go without me,” Alastor said from where he sat in the center of the hut. The young lirio climbed over Alastor as if he were a climbing gym.

Bon drew her brows up. “Permitted him?”

Alastor remained quiet, a smirk on his face that slipped away too quickly. “What I meant was, that I should’ve gone as well.”

I shifted, trying to find a more comfortable way to sit. “I don’t blame you for not going with Elias. I’m just grateful Leah came by to see to Ilgirth.” Although Elias had never mentioned he’d asked her to do so.

“What Elias did, he did out of loyalty to his people,” Alastor said.

“You sound like you want to forgive him.”

Alastor scooped up Sama, Koa and Bon’s eldest daughter, and flipped her so she hung upside down. I grinned at the girl’s peal of laughter.

“Perhaps I already have.” Alastor’s gray eyes pierced me. “That doesn’t mean I’ll endanger my people’s lives any further. I won’t stop anyone who wishes to help him either.”

Bon’s laugh was rough as if it scraped across her throat when it spilled out. “As if you could stop anyone as stubborn as my Koa.”

Alastor grinned. “I do hate getting on his bad side.” He stood in one graceful movement, and with the hut boasting high ceilings, Sama was safe from hitting her head when he tossed her in the air.

The other littles gathered around him, begging to be thrown next.

He picked up one of the boys, Chaka, and dangled him by the little one’s foot.

He smirked when Chaka yelled. “Agthor went as well, although he is staying hidden. Koa will know where he is, but unless there is danger, Agthor’s presence will remain unknown. ”

“I’m grateful to both of them,” I said.

Alastor tucked his chin down. Before he could say anything, I changed the subject.

“At school, the girls learned how to make empanadas,” I told them.

Although I’d never made empanadas when I lived in the human realm, I’d eaten enough of them to know it was nothing like what I helped Delaney and the girls prepare last night.

The consistency of the dough was different and the ingredients unusual, but we’d let it set overnight so they could cook the boar meat filling tonight.

“We’re going to finish cooking them tonight for dinner,” I continued. “Y’all should join us.”

We’d prepared enough of the empanada dough, and I’d bought more than enough boar meat that we’d probably have leftovers. To be safe, I also made sure we had everything we needed to make sandwiches even though Delaney promised it would taste amazing.

“I don’t know that Elias would welcome me in his home,” Alastor said thoughtfully, picking up another little girl to flip her around. She squealed when he tossed her in the air and caught her.

“Whether you and Elias make amends or not has no bearing on our relationship.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “We’re family, Alastor, and you’re always welcome in our home. In fact, I expect you to come over and toss my sons in the air just like that, but you know, wait a few years.”

He smirked.

“What time would you like us over?” Bon asked.

I gave her an approximate time I usually got back home with the kids. “Any time after that works. The girls have been asking when they can play with your kiddos again.”

“We’ll be by after I put Mimesoa down so my friend has less trouble watching the babe.” She patted her little one’s back, grinning at her baby when she reached for her mother’s nose.

“You could always bring her too,” I offered.

“Oh no.” She shook her head. “As much as I love little Soa, I also love my time away from her. You’ll see what I mean soon enough.”

I rubbed my stomach affectionately, not able to imagine wanting to be separated from my babies for even a short time.

“My cousin doesn’t believe you.” Alastor winked.

I moved to lift my middle finger but thought better of it when I remembered all the kiddos around us. Alastor’s grin widened.

“Ass,” I mouthed to his delight.

“It only gets worse the older we get,” Sama said, tilting her chin up. “Mama and Popop try to get rid of me at every chance.”

“Somehow, they always end up in my home,” Alastor added.

I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t act like you don’t love every minute of it.”

He bit down on his smile.

More and more, Alastor relaxed around me, his smiles and teases coming easier than before .

Ready to leave, I inched forward on the cushion. “I should head home,” I said. “Get a couple of hours of silence before the kids get out of school.”

“See? You already know what I mean.” Bon cackled at her tease. “Soak up all that silence because chaos always follows.”

I stepped toward Bon and ran a finger over Mimesoa’s cheek. Although the lirio appeared to be made of tree bark, their skin was deceptively soft and smooth. “Do you think I can carry her next time I come?”

Her expression softened. “Of course. Mimesoa would love that.”

Alastor stood at my side. “Could you stop at my home first? There’s something I’d like to try with you.”

“Sure, of course,” I said.

Around him, the kids groaned. I ran a hand through Chaka’s spiky hair, and although he was still only a child, the top of his head almost reached my chin.

When Alastor offered me his arm, I slipped my hand through it. We took our time to talk to the fae we passed in his village. It gave me peace to see him so at ease in his home, with his people, when he’d felt lost in where he belonged only a few months ago.

His hut was similar to the others, but it was placed in the center of the village. When we went inside, he gestured for me to sit. Like the lirio, his living room didn’t have a couch or anything comfortable to sit on, so I made do and sat on the rug in front of his firepit.

From his inner pocket of magic, Alastor pulled out a large, worn book. My pulse kicked up, racing at the sight.

“Is that . . . ?” I reached for the yellowed edges, my fingers trembling at the magic that vibrated from the book. “That’s the living book you learned from. ”

“It is.” Taking a seat next to me, he pulled the book on his lap. “I told Elias I’d ask the book about the orb he keeps in his inner pocket of magic. I’d like to know if we can use the magic stored in the orb to aid us against the humans.”

I flinched at his words, and his eyes widened.

“I don’t mean—I simply meant those who’ve pitted themselves against us,” Alastor said, his tone gentle.

“I know. I get it,” I said. “People like me have done some terrible things. How can I help?” I pointed at the living book, curiosity and excitement coursing through me.

“The book always answered better when Blaise, Leanora, and I asked it questions together.” For an instant, his features pinched in pain, and he rubbed two fingers between the bridge of his nose. “It should recognize your mage blood. I believe if we were to ask it about the orb, it may answer us.”

Just like the orb had done so many months ago, the book seemed to call to me, speak to me.

This time when the urge to touch it ran through me, I abided.

A flash of light flamed behind my eyes while this comfortable warmth flooded my veins.

I gasped but kept my hold on the book, not wanting to let go.

“Think of the orb.” Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I heard Alastor’s voice.

I pulled my thoughts away from the welcoming tug from the book and thought of the orb. The way it’d whispered to me. The way its magic thrummed in my palm. The way it promised death to any who threatened it.

Fire filled my lungs, and I held it in, letting it travel through my body, that heat lessening as it made its way to my fingertips. I took the book from Alastor and opened it.

Words started to cover the once empty pages, and entranced, I flipped through the many pages, finding them also filling with words.

“This is incredible.” I ran my fingers over the pages, enjoying the way the magic zapped with each graze.

Alastor leaned forward to get a better view.

In ages long passed, when the world still bent to the will of mages, there was a goddess born of two realms. One foot she kept among her mother’s kin, the mages and stewards of magic. The other, she walked beside her father, a god among gods.

Though she bore the blood of divinity, her heart belonged to the mages.

Their craft, their devotion, their thirst for knowledge; these she cherished above all else.

In a gesture of eternal fealty, she forged the Orb of Sacrifice.

Into it, she poured her divine essence, binding the vessel to the veil between life and death.