Lindell and Eireen sat in front of the fire in the parlor awhile longer, then they made dinner together and ate in companionable but tired silence. Just after they finished eating, there was a knock on the front door. Eireen took the dishes into the kitchen while Lindell went to get the door. Hector was out there, looking worried. That seemed to be his default expression lately.

  Hector frowned. “Is there someone else here?”

  Lindell could hear Eireen cleaning dishes in the kitchen, humming quietly.

  Hector sighed, but there seemed to be a smile trying to get through. “Irwin was complaining about you spending a lot of time in the forest. Have you been meeting a woman out there?”

  “What makes you think there’s a woman here?” Lindell asked, but he felt his face turning red. “It could be Bazza.”

  “Oh?” Hector did smile now. “Well he has a very melodious hum.” He stared at Lindell. “Let me in. We need to talk.”

  Lindell opened the door further, closing it behind his brother. He trusted Hector wouldn’t call on the witch hunters. The kitchen had gone silent.

  “Eireen, you can come out!” Lindell called.

  Eireen came to stand in the dining room doorway. Hector tensed when he saw her.

  “Were you really meeting her out in the forest?” Hector asked.

  “I was,” Lindell said. It felt good to be honest with him about something. “Eireen, this is my brother, Hector.”

  Eireen smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

  Hector nodded, but he looked suddenly weary. He took his glasses off and cleaned them on his shirt for a long moment before putting them back on. He always did that when he was deep in thought. “As I said, Irwin was complaining about you spending a lot of time in the forest. He has endless complaints about you lately. I’m afraid of what he will do. He keeps control of the city’s nobles and always has. I still don’t know if the rumors are true about what Irwin does to nobles who cause a stir.” He looked at Lindell. “The court has made a decision about the museum. I must inform Bazza and Phoenix in the morning. The museum has until the end of the season to close. Phoenix will deal with the dangerous artifacts.”

  Lindell felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, but then he thought of how Bazza would react.

  “Be careful,” Hector said. “If Irwin finds out about her, there could be even more trouble. The nobles would probably say she was cursed by one of the museum’s artifacts.” He glanced at Eireen curiously.

  “It’s not a curse,” Eireen said. “I’m a Priest of Iterna.”

  Hector didn’t seem the least bit surprised. “Even so, be careful. Both of you.” He left the house.

  “Bazza won’t like that,” Eireen said quietly.

  “No,” Lindell said, “but it is for the best the museum closes.”

  She took his hand in hers for a moment, then headed back toward the kitchen. Lindell went with her, the two of them finishing up the dishes together.

  “Why is this house so cold?” Eireen asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Lindell said. “I’ve never liked this place.”

  She smiled sadly. “Why do you stay?”

  “Where else would I go?” Lindell asked. He really didn’t know.

  She took a step closer, looking up at him. “You could go anywhere,” she whispered. She kissed him lightly on the lips.

  Maybe he could go anywhere after the museum closed. But what would Bazza do? The museum was so important to Bazza. Lindell and Eireen went upstairs to bed. Usually, it was easier to sleep when Eireen was there, but Lindell lay awake worrying about what Irwin may or may not do, worrying about the museum, about the Flame of Ivra. And worrying about that feeling inside of him that was getting stronger. Much stronger.

  “My magic has become one with your internal magic,” Ricliri said.

  “Internal magic?” Lindell thought.

  “Most people have internal magic, even if they aren’t witches,” Ricliri said. “It’s what allows witches to see magic.” He was quiet for a moment. “Soon I can teach you how to use illusion magic, but it may be hard to control it until then, and I don’t know what my magic will do to you now that it’s a part of you.”

  “So far nothing has happened,” Lindell thought.

  He could feel Ricliri’s worry. “That doesn’t mean nothing will.”

  “I decided to be your host,” Lindell thought. “I chose this, and I will accept what happens.”

  “I hope you still believe that later,” Ricliri said. He went back to sleep.

  Lindell went to sleep too.

  -- --

  Lindell and Eireen had breakfast together in the morning before she left for the forest. Lindell went to the museum, sitting across from Bazza in the office. Bazza was looking through the ledger again.

  “There is an artifact in Chert,” Bazza said, not looking up from the ledger. “A box that would be an excellent addition to our collection.”

  Lindell didn’t know how to tell his friend the court’s decision. He didn’t want Hector to be the one to tell him. A knock came on the office door. Lindell opened the door and found his brother on the other side. Before Lindell could say anything, Hector came into the office. He was holding a scroll with a wax seal that must be the court’s order. Hector crossed the room and set the scroll on Bazza’s desk.

  Bazza undid the seal and unrolled the scroll, tense all over.

  “An order signed by the court,” Hector said. “You have until the end of the season to close the museum. Phoenix will deal with the artifacts, verifying which ones are not dangerous. I will inform Phoenix.” He left without another word, closing the office door behind him.

  A heavy silence hung in the air. At last Bazza looked up from the scroll, but he didn’t look sad, just angry and determined.

  “The museum will not close,” Bazza said. “I will speak to the court. Please, go to Chert and retrieve that artifact.”

  Lindell hesitated, wanting to say no.

  “Please,” Bazza said. Now Lindell could see sadness in his eyes.

  “Alright,” Lindell said. Just this last one. Now he could see magic, so if it was dangerous he wouldn’t retrieve it.

  “Thank you,” Bazza said. He left the office with Lindell, locking up behind them.

  The two split up. Would the court listen? Lindell wasn’t sure there was anything Bazza could say to get the court to change their minds about this. Lindell stopped by the forest to tell Eireen where he was going. He saw her disappointment that he was going after the artifact, but it felt too late to turn back now. It was an uneventful journey to Chert. Lindell reached the harbor village late the next day, finding the shop Bazza had told him about.

  It was one of those antique shops with tables piled full of objects. A few people were wandering around the shop. The shopkeeper, a short young man, was at the counter near the front door. When Lindell told the man Bazza had sent him, the man set a box on the counter. A small wooden box inlaid with tarnished silver, the lid open a crack from a broken hinge. At first Lindell tensed when he saw it, but this wasn’t Rimlek’s Embers. It did look a lot like it.

  The wood of the box was warped and weathered. There was no magic, but Lindell was still worried. He couldn’t ignore how much this box looked like the one Evelyn’s Dark Mirror had shown him. This definitely wasn’t Rimlek’s Embers, but Bazza likely chose it because the description matched. Had Bazza hoped Lindell would be retrieving the embers?

  “Will you take it?” the man asked, bringing Lindell’s thoughts back to the moment.

  “Yes,” Lindell said, forcing a smile.

  “Fifty coin,” the man said.

  Lindell handed over fifty coin and took the box. He stayed at the inn that night, leaving for Shale in the morning, and stopping in Skarn for the night. He arrived back in Shale the next night, taking the box straight to Bazza’s house. Ricliri was awake, his worry mirroring Lindell’s.

  “Do you think he really thought this was the embers?” Ricliri asked.

  “I hope not,” Lindell thought, “but it would be an odd coincidence if he didn’t.”

  Lindell knocked on Bazza’s door. Bazza let him in and the two sat before the fire in the study.

  “The court has refused to change their decision,” Bazza said, “but I will not give up on this. I will convince them. How did it go in Chert?” He frowned when Lindell handed him the box.

  “It’s not Rimlek’s Embers,” Lindell said.

  Bazza looked at him, his expression oddly hard to read.

  “That’s what you thought it would be, isn’t it?” Lindell asked.

  Bazza sighed, setting the box on the table next to his chair. “Yes, it is.”

  “You know how dangerous those embers are,” Lindell said.

  “The box is sealed,” Bazza said. “We could protect it—”

  “Like we protected the rod?” Lindell asked. “That was the seventh time Phoenix had to intervene.”

  Bazza sputtered.

  “The artifacts are dangerous,” Lindell said. “I looked at the artifacts on the second floor. Every single one has magic. None of the artifacts on the first floor have magic.” He wasn’t sure what that meant. Or maybe he just didn’t want to admit it.

  “What are you saying?” Bazza asked, his expression blank.

  “Did you know those artifacts were dangerous when you sent me to retrieve them?” Lindell asked, the words coming out quiet.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Bazza said nothing, but Lindell could see it in his eyes.

  “You knew,” Lindell said, feeling as though he’d missed an entire flight of stairs on the way down.

  “I may have suspected,” Bazza said.

  Lindell stood, heading for the door.

  “Lindell, wait,” Bazza said, getting to his feet as well.

  “Did you want those artifacts specifically because they had magic?” Lindell asked. “Were you seeking out dangerous artifacts on purpose?”

  He had believed Bazza would never do something like that, had believed the Amulet of Nightmares had been an accident. He had believed the exploding spoon, the burning fan, Umbrunis’s sundial, and the Ivran rod had been bad luck.

  “Such things need to be preserved,” Bazza said.

  “Did you know the Amulet of Nightmares was cursed?” Lindell asked. His thoughts and emotions were a mess inside of him. He wasn’t sure he wanted Bazza to answer, or what it would mean if he said yes.

  The fire in the hearth flared brighter. Bazza looked at it sharply. A swarm of bats flew out of the fire, untouched by the flames. Bazza ducked, but the bats vanished before they reached him. Lindell was breathing hard, his magic feeling like an inferno inside of him.

  Bazza looked at Lindell, his brows furrowed. “Was that your magic? You can’t control it, can you? You need to go to Phoenix. Maybe they can help you, can get that spirit out of you.”

  Lindell turned away. He left the house, ignoring Bazza calling after him. The night air was brisk, helping him calm down a little.

  “That conversation needed to happen,” Ricliri said in Lindell’s mind. “I’m sorry Bazza is not more reasonable about the artifacts. He doesn’t seem to see how much danger he’s been putting you in.”

  “I should have talked to him about it sooner,” Lindell thought.

  “I can see your memories,” Ricliri said quietly. “He has sent you many terrible places to retrieve many terrible things. He’s more concerned with gathering artifacts than with your safety.”

  Lindell still didn’t want to admit it, but he could see Bazza’s obsession with the artifacts was a dangerous thing. He just didn’t know what to do about it. Eireen was there when he reached the house, sitting in a chair in front of the fire in the parlor. Lindell sat in the other chair.

  “Was it dangerous?” Eireen asked after a moment.

  “No,” Lindell said quietly. “He thought it would be Rimlek’s Embers, but fortunately it wasn’t.”

  Eireen stiffened. “Rimlek’s Embers?” Her brows furrowed. “After all the other disasters with artifacts, he thinks it would be safe to keep Rimlek’s Embers at the museum?”

  Lindell didn’t know what to say, and if he thought too hard about his conversation with Bazza, would he lose control of his magic again?

  Eireen’s expression softened. She reached over and took his hand in hers. “Talk to him…” she said quietly. “You know him best. If you say he’s not with the Flame of Ivra, that he’s not against Oenum, then I believe you, but you and he need to talk.”

  Lindell nodded slowly. He hesitated, but he definitely wasn’t going to keep this from her. “I lost control of my magic, when I argued with him.”

  Now she looked even more worried.

  Lindell sighed. “It won’t be much of a conversation if I keep making illusions when I’m upset.”

  “I can help you with that,” Ricliri said. “I can teach you.”

  “Thank you,” Lindell said.

  Eireen looked at him questioningly.

  “Ricliri said he can teach me,” Lindell said.

  She smiled. “Then you’ll have to do that before you confront Bazza.”

  Once again, he felt better with her there, like all his troubles and worries were further away. They sat in the parlor a while longer before they both went to bed. He slept better than he’d thought he would and felt much better in the morning than he had the night before. Better until he got out of bed. Eireen had already gone downstairs.

  The room had been oddly hot the night before, or it had felt that way, so he had taken off his shirt. He always wore shorts to bed. That made it easy to see the thick, dark brown hair that had grown down the side of his left leg, across his knee, and down the other side of his leg to his ankle. Was that hair? There was a patch of it across his chest and several on his right arm.

  Lindell hesitated, then touched it. It was soft, just as thick as it had appeared. Was it fur? He stumbled in his hurry into the washroom. He had opened the bedroom window the night before when he’d gotten hot, so enough light spilled into the washroom that he didn’t need to light a candle. There was enough light to see himself in the mirror.

  There was another patch of fur growing up the side of his neck and across his nose, but other than that, nothing else. Had he touched a cursed object in that shop in Chert? Would he feel the magic of a curse now that he could sense magic? He didn’t feel odd, feeling somehow better than he had in a while.

  Ricliri stirred, waking up slower than usual. “Oh… Sorry…”

  Lindell relaxed. “Your magic did this?”

  “That’s a relief?” Ricliri sounded baffled.

  “Compared to it being a curse I didn’t know I picked up,” Lindell said, then he tensed, thinking of Eireen. He tried to hide that thought quickly.

  “It’s alright,” Ricliri said. “I would worry if you weren’t at all worried about this. I should tell you now, what’s happening hasn’t finished, but once it has it will be easier for you to control your magic.”

  “Bazza’s going to rage about this,” Lindell said.

  “I’m sorry…” Ricliri said again. “It’s going to make it even harder to talk to him.”

  “This isn’t your fault,” Lindell said. “I agreed to this.”

  Ricliri sighed. “You didn’t know what you were agreeing to.” His voice got quieter, then he went back to sleep.

  Was he sleeping more often lately? Lindell would ask him if he was alright next time he woke up. Lindell got dressed, but hesitated at his bedroom door. Time to get this over with. He was probably just being foolish. He went downstairs to where Eireen was making oatmeal in the kitchen. She stopped stirring when she saw him.

  “What happened?” she asked. “Was it something at that shop in Chert?”

  “It was my magic,” Lindell said. “Ricliri said it hasn’t finished.”

  Oddly, she looked relieved. “Not a curse then.” She went back to stirring, but frowned a little. “Bazza won’t take it well.”

  “You’re not…” He hesitated.

  Eireen set the spoon aside and came over to him, hugging him tightly. “I loved you before, and I will love you no matter what happens.”

  At those words, he felt like things would be alright. Even if Bazza was furious, at least Eireen still loved him. Lindell and Eireen had breakfast, then Lindell left for the museum. He hesitated again before going inside. Bazza’s office door was open, how it had been the day before. Bazza looked up from the papers on his desk and stiffened, going several shades paler.

  Lindell sat across from him, trying to hold on to that good feeling Eireen had given him. “It’s the magic.”

  Bazza frowned only harder at that. “You need to go to Phoenix, immediately. Perhaps Vedrix can remove the spirit and the magic.”

  “He said it can’t be undone, and I don’t want it undone,” Lindell said.

  Bazza stared at him, his expression no longer readable.

  “We need to talk,” Lindell said. “I know all the upstairs artifacts have magic. You’ve been gathering magical artifacts on purpose—”

  “I know it’s a problem,” Bazza cut in. “I know.” He stared at his desk for a long moment. “We need to talk soon, but I’m not ready yet. Please, just give me a little more time.”

  Had he realized recently it was a problem, or had he known all along? If it was the latter, Lindell wished Bazza had talked to him about it.

  “I’ll give you time,” Lindell said, hoping this meant Bazza had seen reason, that he wouldn’t send him after any more artifacts.

  If Bazza did send him after another artifact, Lindell was going to refuse. He left Bazza to his papers and his thoughts, leaving the museum as well. It was a bright, sunny day.

  Ricliri stirred. “Is there somewhere I can teach you?”

  Lindell thought about this, then set off for the forest. “Are you alright?” he thought. “You’ve been sleeping even more lately.”

  Ricliri was silent for a worryingly long time. Had he gone back to sleep? “I will be alright.” He sounded certain of it, but somehow sad as well.

  Lindell stopped when he reached the ruins. He wasn’t likely to be observed out there, unless Nevyn was around somewhere.

  “Let yourself see magic,” Ricliri said.

  Lindell did, seeing the gray threads drifting slowly through the air.

  “Our magic is different from that of witches or demons,” Ricliri said. “Though it is more similar to that of demons than witches. Picture something in your mind. Focus on it as hard as you can until you can almost see it.”

  Lindell held out his hand, picturing a butterfly in his mind. That was the first thing that came to mind, and it seemed as good as anything. The threads of magic around him glowed dark blue before gathering into his hand and becoming something solid. A butterfly with yellow wings perched in his hand, but it vanished into nothing as quickly as it had appeared, the threads of magic rushing out of it, back into the air.

  Lindell tried again, this time thinking of a thimble, something smaller. The magic wouldn’t even take the shape this time before the threads scattered. He was sweaty, his shirt almost soaked through. He let himself stop seeing magic, his surroundings spinning until he sat in the grass. Ricliri had gone back to sleep more suddenly than usual.

  “Your magic hasn’t fully changed you.”

  Lindell jumped at the sound of the voice, but he was too weary to stand.

  Vedrix was walking toward him. He stopped with distance between them, staring at Lindell without expression. “The magic isn’t fully part of you yet,” he said. “If I made you my priest, it would prevent what will happen to you.”

  Lindell shook his head, the movement making him dizzy all over again.

  “You only refuse because you don’t know what will happen,” Vedrix said. “If you wait until it finishes, it will be too late. Then even I cannot help you.”

  “I chose this,” Lindell said.

  Vedrix sighed and turned away. “So you’ve said. I hope you remember that when this finishes.” He walked away, disappearing among the trees.

  Why was Vedrix so certain Lindell would regret this? Ricliri had seemed certain of it as well. Lindell tried to put it out of his mind, reminding himself again that he had chosen this. He got to his feet slowly, but he didn’t get dizzy again. He felt a little better, but still tired. Clearly he wouldn’t be practicing anymore that day. He set off through the forest, not coming across Vedrix on the way back into Shale.

  Lindell headed for the museum, but he found Irwin waiting right outside.

  Irwin paled when he saw Lindell, staring at his face. Likely at the fur. “Another of those cursed artifacts got to you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, scowling. “You had better start packing up the artifacts. If you don’t close the museum by the end of the season, the court will take further action.” He hurried away.

  Lindell sighed. Before midday, all the nobles in Shale would be saying he was cursed.

  “Wallace told me you let a spirit into you and its magic is becoming a part of you,” Kath said, coming toward him from behind. Had she been watching? She frowned a little when she saw him, but she came to stand right next to him. “I take it this is the result?” By her voice, they could have been talking about the weather. She didn’t look horrified like Irwin.

  Lindell nodded.

  Kath lowered her voice when she spoke again. “Too many inconvenient nobles have suddenly left town after being seen with Irwin for it to be a coincidence. Be careful.” She walked away.