Page 6

Chapter six

R une swiped his finger across the tablet screen, scrolling through the latest list of complaints from village residents and categorizing them by priority.

It was tedious and time-consuming work, but at least it kept him occupied.

In the two weeks since Keegan had blown into his life like a miniature harbinger of chaos—big feelings, big ideas, and big opinions—there had rarely been a moment of peace.

Spontaneous, impulsive, and a little reckless, he never did anything Rune expected.

He never reacted the way most people would.

He didn’t follow a pattern or fit into a category.

In fact, the only thing Rune could count on was that he had no idea what the guy would say or do next.

It would likely be entertaining, though.

So much, in fact, that he had started to crave those little nuggets of chaos.

Which made the current lull—their research in the library hitting a dead end—feel even heavier.

Hence his color-coded lists and menial tasks.

But he wasn’t the only one in need of a distraction.

Curled up on the other end of the sofa in the sitting room, Keegan stared into the fireplace with a vacant expression.

Wrapped in the blanket Rune had given him on his first day in the castle, knees pulled to his chest, he looked utterly lost.

Lost, but not defeated.

Rune could still see the spark in him, the desire to fight for those he loved.

Unfortunately, they had been playing a losing game, and like the rest of them, Keegan was out of moves.

He understood the frustration, but they weren’t helpless, even if the lack of forward momentum made it feel that way.

They had just stalled for the time being.

Turning off the tablet, he tucked it between the cushion and the arm of the couch.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Keegan turned to him slowly, blinking as if coming out of deep thoughts.

“And go where?”

True, they didn’t have many options, and none that appealed after the opulence of the castle.

Still, he hoped being around other people would help his mate get out of his own head for a while.

“I need to talk to Cian about the supply drop tomorrow.”

Keegan snorted.

“No, you don’t.”

No, he really didn’t, but it sounded like a plausible excuse.

He should have known Keegan would see right through it.

“Fine, but let’s go anyway.”

“Why?”

Always with the damn questions.

“Because you’re moping, and it’s getting on my nerves.”

Keegan’s lips twitched, and the corners of his eyes creased as he struggled to maintain a neutral expression.

It was a valiant effort.

Rune would give him that.

In the end, though, he lost the battle and gave him the smile he’d been hoping for.

“I have to find my shoes.” The words still hung in the air when a pair of black and white sneakers appeared on the floor in front of him.

“Never mind,” he muttered.

“You know, I didn’t die just so I could come here to be bullied by an enchanted castle.”

Rune vaguely remembered what it had been like in those first few years, when the experience had been new and unexpected.

He recalled the way not just the décor had constantly been shifting, but the layout as well.

The library hadn’t even existed for the first decade.

Then, one day, it had simply appeared, nothing more than a little alcove stacked with a dozen or so books.

Over time, it had expanded, the changes subtle, barely noticeable, until it eventually became the expansive space it was now.

In the beginning, the castle had felt like a living being, like another entity that existed within the walls.

Somewhere along the way, though, he had stopped noticing.

He had stopped appreciating the novelty, as well as all the little things that made his life easier.

There had been the barest hint of a flicker when Finn had arrived, a renewal of the magic and whimsy.

Then Keegan had blown in, igniting that spark into a shower of pyrotechnics and maybe a little mischief.

And for the first time in centuries, the place felt alive again.

“Let’s go,” he repeated.

“Put your shoes on.”

“But I’m comfortable,” Keegan whined, snuggling deeper into his blanket.

The flames that had been crackling merrily in the fireplace instantly extinguished, leaving only smoldering logs.

The cerulean curtains slid together to cover the windows, and the chandelier overhead flickered ominously.

“Okay!” Keegan shouted when the shoes vanished from the floor, only to reappear on the cushion beside him.

“I’m going!”

Rune pretended to rub his jaw while smothering a chuckle.

Watching Keegan argue with a sentient piece of architecture was both the weirdest and funniest thing he’d seen in a long time.

Tossing the blanket off his shoulders, Keegan pulled the sneakers on, then shoved to his feet with more sass than strictly necessary.

Hands on his hips, arms akimbo, he stared around the room, his gaze unfixed, and arched an eyebrow.

“Happy now?”

In response, the coffee table and sofa opposite him disappeared, clearing the path to the doorway.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he grumbled.

“Let’s get out of here before I set this place on fire.” Dropping his arms, he started marching toward the exit, only to stop short when the coffee table rematerialized right in his path.

“Damn it!” Doubling over, he rubbed his abused shin, his face a mask of irritation.

“It was a joke!”

Rune continued to battle back laughter as he pushed up from his seat.

It wasn’t easy, though, not when the table moved a few scant inches to the side.

Slowly…hesitantly. Then there was Keegan, clearly in over his head but ready to fistfight a fucking coffee table anyway.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” Keegan pressed his hand over his heart.

“Please don’t drop anything on me.”

The table vanished, and Rune finally lost the battle, giving into his amusement over the absolute absurdity of the situation.

The castle had survived multiple kitchen fires courtesy of Sindri’s cooking, but it threw a tantrum over a single threat from a pint-sized mortal.

“What are you laughing at?” Keegan demanded.

“You.” No sense in lying about it when they both knew the answer.

His mate glared, his expression filled with righteous indignation, but he couldn’t maintain it for long.

Eventually, his eyes softened, and a smile curved his lips.

“Fair.” He glanced around the room warily.

“Let’s hurry before I’m ambushed by more furniture.”

They managed to exit the room without further incident, but the castle clearly hadn’t forgiven him yet.

The landscape paintings that decorated the walls of the corridor had been replaced by portraits of stern-looking gods, their eyes following them as they passed.

Rune recognized a few of the faces, like Hades and Rebes, but he could only guess as to the others.

He thought the one on the end with the curled lip and crazed stare might be Styx, but he couldn’t say for sure.

Everything he knew about the goddess had come secondhand from Erus, and the guy absolutely loathed her, so probably not the most accurate source.

Keegan shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and ducked his head, refusing to look up or acknowledge the paintings.

The tension in his shoulders eased a little when they reached the foyer, but he didn’t completely relax until they had exited the castle and cleared the grove of lemon trees.

“So passive-aggressive,” he muttered, scuffing his foot over the ground to send sand flying in every direction.

“We’re probably going to have bed bugs or something else stupid.”

Rune fell into step beside him and quirked an eyebrow.

“What’s this ‘we’ shit? I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, but we share a bed.”

Not just a bed.

Since their tryst in the library, Keegan had moved into his room completely, and Rune couldn’t have been happier about it.

Still, he couldn’t resist teasing.

“Then you can sleep in your own bed tonight.”

Keegan jerked his head up, his eyes wide and his mouth slack.

“That’s not fair! Shouldn’t you, like, I don’t know, defend my honor or something?”

“I’m not the one who picked a fight with a pile of magical rocks.”

A sly smile curved his lips, and his hazel eyes danced with merriment.

“I’m telling her you said that.”

“Her?”

“Yeah, is that weird? ‘It’ just feels kind of wrong, you know?”

Chuckling, Rune ruffled his hair, then wound an arm around his neck to pull him close.

“Don’t worry, kaelaer. I’ll protect you from the bed bugs.”

Keegan leaned against his side with a quiet laugh of his own.

“My hero.”

They continued along the stone-paved street, following it to the heart of the village where the rickety shops waited.

It was quieter than usual, emptier, and they didn’t pass a single soul on their way to the bakery.

It happened sometimes after one of Rebes’ outbursts.

The darkness unsettled people, and it took a while for the disquiet to ease.

But that had been more than a week ago, and this didn’t feel like the typical quietness after the storm.

Still, he couldn’t do anything about it right then—if there was anything to be done about it at all—so he filed it away to contemplate later.

The scent of freshly baked bread, buttery crusts, and sweetened apples greeted them when they entered the bakery.

Unlike the diner, the food there had flavor and texture, and it didn’t make him want to hurl himself into the river.

Sadly, bread and pie didn’t exactly constitute a balanced meal.

Miss Helen greeted them with a warm smile and a firm embrace.

Rune didn’t know exactly how long ago she’d died, but she appeared to be middle-aged with kind eyes the color of burnt sienna.

She dressed simply in neutral colors, with a white apron tied around her ample hips, and she always had flecks of flour in her graying hair.

“Let’s see you, cherí ,” she insisted, capturing Keegan’s face between her stocky hands.

“You’re looking a little pale, no?” She patted his cheek affectionately, then ushered him toward one of the wobbly tables.

“Sit, sit. I’ll bring you some pie.”

Keegan’s smile stretched the width of his face, and his cheeks tinted an adorable shade of pink.

“Thank you, Miss Helen.”

Rune joined him at the table with a snort.

“Hi, Miss Helen. It’s good to see you too.”

She looked up from her place behind the counter, her eyes sharp and narrowed.

“Don’t you sass me, Rune Calix.”

Leaning back in his chair, he held his hands up in supplication.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She bustled over, carrying a small tin plate with a piece of pie the size of his head.

“I’ve been dead longer than you’ve been alive, yes?” Placing the plate down in front of Keegan, she caressed his hair with a tender smile before pointing a threatening finger at Rune.

“You remember that.”

His heart swelled, and his chest filled with warmth when she winked.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll remember.”

They stayed until Keegan had gotten his fill of both pie and being fussed over.

Then they hugged Miss Helen goodbye and continued down the street to their next stop.

The door to the apothecary creaked when they entered, but the shop itself was clean and tidy, the fragrance of dried herbs and fresh flowers floating on the air.

Tilted shelves leaned against the walls, some so askew it was a wonder they didn’t topple over, and each one was lined with small vials and glass bottles.

Paris St. James rounded the desk at the front of the room when they entered, his sea-green eyes brightening with recognition.

Dressed in a pastel pink suit with a matching tie, he presented a stark and startling contrast to Miss Helen.

He was another bright spot in an otherwise bleak world, and Rune always enjoyed his visits to the apothecary.

Today, he had adorned his elongated ears in metallic cuffs and delicate chains that jingled with every step.

Just like their visit to the bakery, Rune was shunted to the side while Paris focused on Keegan.

He turned his head to hide his smile.

Everyone in the village understood the assignment, and he had never been more grateful.

“Oh, honey, your aura is a mess.” The pixie fanned his hand over the top of Keegan’s head as if trying to swat away the negative energy.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got just the thing.” Then he linked his arm through Keegan’s and led him toward one of the back shelves.

“Now, are you allergic to anything?”

They left the apothecary twenty minutes later with a packet of powdered reishi to help Keegan relax, a bottle of vitamins, and a small vial of shimmering blue liquid.

Neither of them would tell him the liquid’s purpose, but Keegan had hurriedly shoved it into his pocket, a cherry blush staining his face from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

Next, they stopped by the blacksmith.

Not for Keegan, but so Rune could check in with the grumpy shifter to find out if Jiro had stolen his tools again in an ongoing attempt to renovate his apartment.

Thankfully, there had been no more petty theft, but like the rest of the residents, Geoffrey had taken a liking to Keegan.

Rather than pie or magical remedies, however, he had shown his affection in the form of a serrated dagger with a leather-wrapped hilt.

He had even spent a few minutes giving Keegan a tutorial on how best to use it.

“Give it,” Rune demanded when they left, holding his hand out for the blade.

“But it’s mine!”

“You don’t even know how to use it.” And he would likely end up stabbing himself in the leg with it.

“Give it.”

Keegan huffed and slapped the handle down against Rune’s palm.

“This is theft.”

“Feel free to file a complaint,” he deadpanned, tucking the dagger into a loop on his belt beside his own.

“I just did. That was my complaint.”

“Duly noted.”

They stopped at every business along the main road, and each time, Keegan was given the red-carpet treatment.

He received a misshapen mug at the potter’s shop.

A handkerchief from the seamstress.

A corked bottle of pale ale at the tavern.

And a round, lopsided basket from the weaver to carry everything in.

By the time they reached the diner, he looked lighter than Rune had seen him in days.

Since he didn’t actually have business there, they stayed just long enough to warm themselves by the fire and enjoy a cup of coffee.

Keegan had insisted on using his new mug, which had sparked the first real emotion Rune could recall ever seeing on Cian’s face.

Even if that emotion had been annoyance.

“You said Noah lived here?” Keegan asked as he traced the rim of his cup with his index finger.

Rune nodded. “Yeah, he had an apartment in the Tower.”

Catching his bottom lip, he bobbed his head slowly, his eyes glazed and unfocused.

“Is there a reason you ask?”

Keegan lifted his head, meeting his gaze with a quiet sigh.

“Can you tell me where it is?”

The day had been going so well, and this wasn’t how he would have chosen to end it.

Rather than progress, this felt like a step backward, but if Keegan needed this, he couldn’t deny him.

“Come on, kaelaer. I’ll take you.”