Page 7 of Fleshbound (Enchanted Ink)

T wo months passed without him finding a single thread or clue on Fleshbound , Corven of Evonium, or anything pertaining to Merlin outside what was already legend.

He’d closed the shop for most of that time, only shipping special orders off their website with Perry’s assistance, much to the confusion of the witch community and his coven.

He’d been unable to speak of what had happened without breaking down, so he kept most of it stored up inside.

The only one who hadn’t asked questions was Cassius, their coven leader. The look of pity in the witch’s eyes every time he glanced in Quill’s direction made him think the man knew what had happened. Cassius had a sixth sense about him. Always had. It’s what made him such an amazing leader.

But Quill didn’t want Cassius’s pity. No one else’s either.

He would find the love of his life if it was the last thing he did.

After two more weeks of endless research, little sleep, and little food, he crashed hard. He awoke in his bed with Cassius sitting on the side of it, hovering close, unsure how he’d gotten there.

“What happened?”

“Perry found you passed out on the floor of the shop. Luca and I brought you up here and he gave you a little boost. You haven’t been eating, Quill. You can’t do that.”

“I know. I’ve been… busy,” Quill muttered.

“I thought we were friends?”

Quill sat up, resting his back against the headboard. “We are.”

“Well, friends talk to one another. They let them carry some of their burdens. These last few months, you’ve closed yourself off.” He sighed. “And pushed yourself so hard that you crashed and burned.”

“I couldn’t… I didn’t know how to tell anyone.” He looked off in the distance. “I’m not even sure anyone will believe me. I’m not sure I believe it all at this point.”

“You fell in love,” Cassius whispered. “You loved and you lost. That’s all we needed to know.”

The backs of Quill’s eyes burnt with unshed tears as he met Cassius’s gaze. “I’m started to think it was all a dream.”

“He wasn’t. I sensed his presence here with you.”

“You did?”

“I’m in charge of securing our coven. When an unknown entity appears—passing our runes—I know about it. I came to your door… and sensed no evil intent, so I waited for you to come talk to me and tell me who he was. But you never did.”

Quill winced.

“Had you talked to me about it, we could’ve discussed things. Instead, I had to put the pieces together after you collapsed.”

“What do you mean? Put the pieces together?”

“I asked Race to twist time to see who was here and if he’d hurt you.”

Quill’s eyes widened, heat creeping up his throat. “He… saw?”

“ Fleshbound , holding one Corven of Evonium within it. Now vanished with him inside.”

Quill scooted higher in the bed. “What else did he see?”

“Nothing that would help us much,” Cassius said. He smiled, a hint of wicked humor glittering in his eyes. “Not here, anyway.”

“Where else did Race go?”

“Back two thousand years. He witnessed Merlin putting the spell on Corven—and it’s just as he said. Merlin wanted him but Corven didn’t welcome those advances. Instead of giving in, he allowed himself to be trapped in that book for two millennia.”

He’d sensed Corven had been telling the truth, but the story was so incredible that it had been hard to swallow. Having Race confirm it helped quell any doubts.

“Does Race remember the spell Merlin used? Maybe we can use it to track the book somehow and find where it went next.”

If it went anywhere next. It had dissolved in front of his eyes.

“Race said it was a language he’d never heard before—which is interesting considering he’s heard nearly every language at this point in his travels.”

Quill spun, moving his legs to the side of the bed. “I’ll go speak with Race. Maybe there’s something he saw that will help me in my search.”

Cassius grasped Quill’s wrist. “You’re not ready to get out of bed yet. You need to rest…”

“I can’t, Cassius. Corven’s out there somewhere and I have to find him.”

Cassius pulled a small tome from a pocket of his black cargo pants. He handed it to Quill. “Perhaps this will help.”

Quill reached for it but pulled his hand back. The thing oozed magic, a mixture of good and dark.

“It’s Merlin’s diary. The one open on his desk when he placed that spell on Corven.”

Quill snagged it from Cassius’s hand and whipped through the pages, ignoring the licks of evil. “It’s Olde English. Might that be what Race heard?”

“No. I’ve already asked. Race speaks Olde English.”

“Oh,” Quill said. He stopped on a page written in characters he’d never seen before and sensed it was the spell used to trap Corven. “This is it. I’m sure of it.”

The words shimmered on the page, glowing like fire.

The same color as Corven’s eyes.

He flipped a few more pages, but there were no more. It was the last entry in the diary. “How did Race bring this back? He’s not allowed to change anything, only witness.”

“He didn’t,” Cassius whispered. “I did.”

Quill’s eyes widened. “You went with him?”

“No. I placed a tracking spell on him. As soon as he returned and told me what he’d seen, I portaled there… and witnessed the witch hunters murder Merlin and steal his treasures. For some reason, they left most of the books behind. Idiots, but I’m thankful for those idiots.”

“Why didn’t you grab Corven’s book then?”

“Because the Corven of two thousand years ago might’ve been a much different man. He knew nothing of this time. He’d yet to meet you. If I took his book, you might’ve lost your time with him and the memories of it. His memories of it. I didn’t want to do that to either of you.”

Quill propelled himself forward and wrapped his arms around Cassius. “Thank you.”

Cassius chuckled, patting his back. “You’re welcome.”

Quill sat back down. “I don’t know how much you’ve now changed in the course of time or if we’re going to pay the price for that… and usually I’d tell you it wasn’t worth it. But…”

“You love him.”

Quill nodded.

“We might not change much, if we’re careful. Make a copy of the spell as quickly as you can and give me back the book. I can return to the very second I stole it and return it where I found it,” Cassius said. He waved a hand and scrolls, parchment, and a lap desk appeared on the bed. “Get writing.”

Quill quickly jotted the first line of characters down when a thought emerged. He lifted his gaze to Cassius. “When did you start being able to portal through time?”

Cassius shrugged. “My powers have been growing of late.”

Quill gasped. “You’ve found your third.”

Cassius’s eyes closed and a look of pain crossed his face. When he reopened them, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes… and no.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes. But not now,” Cassius snapped. He tapped the lap desk. “Write.”