Page 24 of Extraordinary Quests for Amateur Witches

Sebastian kept talking about proper stance and throwing technique, but Kieran found that, despite himself, he was far more distracted watching the way Sebastian grew more animated as he spoke.

Seeing the way his eyes lit up and hearing his voice rise in the moment was…

strangely gratifying. As if Kieran was finally peeling back a layer to see what was underneath Sebastian’s even-keeled demeanor.

“Understand?” Sebastian asked, snapping Kieran back into focus.

“Oh, um—yeah. Got it.” Kieran tried to remember what Sebastian had just said about holding the knife. Apparently, this one was handle-heavy, so he needed to hold the blade to throw it. He held his arm aloft as Sebastian had shown him, glancing at him to make sure he’d done it correctly.

Sebastian reached over and gently guided Kieran’s arm into a slightly different position. His skin was cool. Kieran’s eyes met his for a flashing moment, and he found himself drawn to the parted curve of Sebastian’s pale lips.

Sebastian cleared his throat, stepping away. “You can go ahead and throw now.”

“Oh! Oh, right, of course.” Get it together, Kieran. He tore his eyes away from Sebastian’s lips to look back at the crates.

Just like darts, he reminded himself, trying to let his shoulders relax. Just aim and throw.

Kieran took a breath, narrowed his gaze on his target, and threw the knife.

Much to his shock, after one turn in the air, it smacked directly into the crate and stuck. He gasped, a childlike smile brightening his face.

“Nicely done,” Sebastian said, grabbing Kieran’s shoulder and giving it a little shake. “You’re a natural.”

“Really?” Kieran laughed a little, mostly out of shock at his performance. “I’ve never been a natural at anything.”

“Maybe you just weren’t trying the right things.

” Sebastian went to one of the ship’s tables, where he’d laid out four other knives.

He brought one to Kieran and said, “Wanna give it another shot? These yellow pine crates are perfect for this sort of thing—soft enough to pierce but not so flimsy they break.”

Kieran took the knife. “You know what kind of wood these are?”

Sebastian’s entire face lit up all at once.

His tone was bright, and he spoke faster than Kieran had ever heard him.

“Sure. Yellow pine’s the most common in Celdwyn for this sort of thing.

Unlike what this ship is made of—that’s mostly teak.

Beautiful construction too. Did you know teak has natural chemicals that prevent rot?

And it’s the strongest and most durable wood on the planet—it’s fascinating, really. And it’s high in oil…”

All Kieran could do was stare as Sebastian continued. This was the person he’d been so intimidated by at first? Who had seemed so stiff and overly formal? And now he was…waxing poetic about types of wood ?

I can’t believe it, Kieran realized. He’s as weird as I am.

And for whatever reason, something about that made Kieran’s stomach flutter.

“Not to mention, some scientists think the oldest teak tree on the planet is probably six hundred years old. Can you imagine how many generations of people have seen it grow? It’s humbling to consider.

” Sebastian paused, just then seeming to notice Kieran’s shell-shocked expression.

Sebastian went quiet, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh. My apologies. I tend to get a little…carried away when it comes to wood.”

When it comes to wood! Can he hear himself? Kieran couldn’t hold in a laugh. Oh, this is incredible.

“What?” Sebastian asked.

“Nothing! It’s nothing. It’s just…” Kieran shook his head, still trying and failing not to giggle. “I don’t know. When I first met you, you seemed so…aloof. I guess it’s nice to know you’re as weird as the rest of us.”

“Weird? Wood knowledge isn’t weird; it’s useful.”

“Sure.” Kieran chuckled. “If you’re a beaver, or a particularly ambitious woodpecker.”

Sebastian crossed his arms, incredulous. “If that’s what you think, then I guess I won’t show you any of my whittling projects.”

“Whittling projects?” Kieran repeated, his voice going so high it nearly cracked. He sputtered a laugh. “You’re joking. You whittle?”

“I’m a multifaceted person,” Sebastian said, deadly serious. A few days ago, Kieran would have been intimidated by the sudden tone shift. Now he realized that it was for comedic effect.

“It all involves knives, though,” Kieran pointed out. “So not that multifaceted.”

“You say that now, but I think you’d be quite impressed by my handmade spoons. They’re birch. Do you want to hear my birch facts?”

“Desperately,” Kieran near-cackled. “Talk dirty to me.”

That finally broke Sebastian, and the two dissolved into laughter, Kieran nearly doubling over.

As soon as Kieran thought Sebastian was done, he would supply another fact with clinical seriousness—“Did you know you can identify silver birch by their pendulous branches?”—and send Kieran into an entirely new fit of laughter.

Soon, Kieran had to sit on the ground, clutching his sides.

His stomach hurt from laughing. Sebastian sat beside him, chuckling along in a feedback loop that didn’t seem close to stopping anytime soon.

Kieran wiped away tears, trying to catch his breath.

“You,” Kieran said, “are not what I expected, Sebastian Feng. Consider me pleasantly surprised.”

Sebastian just shrugged, his smile almost smug. “I could say the same about you. I…really enjoy your company, Kieran.”

“Likewise.” Kieran bumped his shoulder against Sebastian’s. “Thanks for showing me the knife-throwing tricks. Maybe we can set up a target and have a competition one of these days. If, of course, there’s suitable wood for that on board.”

“I’m sure I could figure something out,” Sebastian said. Not looking at Kieran, he casually added, “For you, at least.”

Kieran’s pulse quickened. There was something so…

human about this side of Sebastian. He’d been remarkably handsome before, sure, but there was something about this moment that Kieran couldn’t exactly put his finger on.

As if he’d only been seeing a fraction of Sebastian before and a new piece had fallen into place.

“You know, I would like to see those spoons sometime,” Kieran said.

“That’s a very high honor. I don’t show my spoons to just anyone.” Kieran felt something brush his hand and glanced down to find Sebastian’s pinky touching his. “But you’re well on your way.”

Kieran’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. Sebastian’s touch was electric. He hadn’t had that sensation in months—not since Ash had last touched him.

He stiffened, just slightly. Even as he did, though, all he could think of was what Briar had said to him last night:

Don’t get so caught up trying to glue together the pieces of something broken that you forget to look around and see what’s right in front of you.

That night, as the moon rose high in the sky, Kieran couldn’t sleep.

His mind had become a tangle of thoughts—about their impending arrival in the Mirrorveil Woods to get the Stave, about Ash back home, and finally about Sebastian and the scintillating look in his eyes that afternoon.

Really, his only focus should be on the Stave, but… he couldn’t help it.

He took out his notebook, stared at the page, and debated how he could explain this to Ash.

Hello, darling! I had another great day devoting myself to fixing our relationship.

Sure, my heart has started racing every time I lay eyes on another boy.

And yes, he’s started showing up in my dreams, just as you used to. But that probably means nothing!

Kieran moaned into his pillow, nearly waking Seaweed next to his feet, where she’d taken to sleeping. How in the world do you go from loving someone to fantasizing about someone else a week later?

It was love, wasn’t it? Kieran had said so, once.

He and Ash had been in the middle of kissing beneath Ash’s sheets when he’d said it.

Sure, it had been the first time anyone had ever touched him that way, but he’d definitely felt something strong.

It had to be love. And yeah, sure, the other boy hadn’t responded—which had hurt Kieran’s feelings a bit—but he’d figured Ash just needed more time.

Three months later, he still hadn’t gotten there.

Kieran’s jaw worked as he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom.

Even in the later days of their relationship, Ash had never fully opened up to him.

Sure, he knew about Ash’s family and the mining partnership with the Pelumbras that had ruined their lives, but beyond that, he’d run into something of a wall.

There had always been something surface-level to the way they spoke.

It was always the same questions: How’s your magic training?

Anything new at the library? How are Delilah and Briar?

At the time, Kieran had considered it comfortable. He knew what to expect when he was with Ash. They had their routines and plans. It was all very…safe.

And he liked safe, of course. He needed safe, to some degree, after everything he’d been through with his curse.

Kieran wasn’t the type who liked surprises or did things spontaneously most of the time.

The knife-throwing with Sebastian that morning was probably the most spontaneous thing he’d done since…

well, deciding to run away from home to break the curse.

Maybe there’s something to be said for taking risks, he thought.

With a sigh, Kieran sat up, deciding he’d go make himself a cup of tea to help him sleep. He threw on the silk bathrobe he kept on his bedpost and tied it around his waist, yawning. Sliding on his sheepskin slippers, he shuffled out of his room and into the hall.

As he did, he couldn’t help but notice that the door to Sebastian’s room was ajar. He probably can’t sleep either. Maybe I’ll run into him.

He didn’t hate that idea.

Carrying on, Kieran made his way out onto the top deck, bracing as a rush of cold air blew past him. With a shiver, he started toward the stairs leading belowdecks.

Just then, though, he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye.

Kieran whipped around in time to see a shadow vanish behind the stack of crates they’d thrown knives at earlier.

He immediately went rigid. Was it a bird that had landed on board?

He’d seen ravens and crows occasionally hanging out on the top deck before flying off into the sky, so that wouldn’t be too unusual.

But then again, that wouldn’t explain the unmoving white shape on the ground where the shadow had just been.

Kieran tugged the tie on his robe a little tighter. As he approached the shape, he called out, “Hello? Someone there?”

No response. As he got closer to the shape, though, he realized what he was looking at: a seagull, its wings splayed out but unmoving. It was definitely dead, but it took Kieran a second to realize what had killed it.

The bird’s neck had been pierced with something sharp, and dark red stained its white feathers. Kieran’s eyes widened as he bent down next to it. There was still blood leaking from the wound. Whatever had killed it must have just done so. Kieran suspected it would still be warm to the touch.

Before he could question that, though, a shadow passed overhead.

At first, Kieran assumed it must just be a cloud. But as he craned his neck to get a better look, his heart nearly stopped.

It was another aeroship.

Kieran’s throat closed. Shit, shit, shit—!

Before he could so much as shout for help, six ropes suddenly dropped from the sides of the other ship.

It was much smaller than this ship, perfect for flying without detection.

Shadows climbed over the sides and slid down in a flash.

Heavy boots hit the deck all around Kieran as they came to a halt.

The figures were all in black and armed with blades that glinted in the moonlight.

Kieran straightened from the dead gull with a gasp.

“Evening,” the nearest one said, holding his saber out in Kieran’s direction. “You must be Kieran.”

Kieran—not sure what else to do—threw up his hands. “Who? I don’t know anyone named Kieran. M-must be on a different aeroship.”

“Cut the shit,” another figure behind him said. Kieran felt something poke against his back. A cold burst of horror ran up his spine—it had to be a dagger.

“Now, no one needs to get hurt,” the first speaker continued. “Really, we’re not interested in getting blood on our hands if we can avoid it. We just need the Hilt, and we’ll be on our way.”

Well, no point in lying, I guess. “Did Elias Barclay send you?”

“Indeed. He sends his regards.” The first speaker stepped close enough that Kieran could smell his breath. “Now, why don’t you go get that for us?”

Kieran glanced around him. There were five of them and one of him—there was no way he could take them.

He could scream to try and get Briar and Delilah’s attention, but with a knife about to slide into his back, that wouldn’t do him much good.

It didn’t help either that he could feel his attacker’s breath on his neck. There was no getting out of this.

What other option did he have?

“F-fine,” Kieran started to say. “Just, um, please put your weapons aw—”

Suddenly, Kieran heard a sickening crack behind him. The mercenary let out a choked sound, and the knifepoint fell away from Kieran’s back. He whipped around just in time to see the mercenary land flat on his face on the deck, unmoving—

With a single throwing knife lodged directly in his brain stem.

“Kieran!” Sebastian cried. “Move!”

All hell broke loose.