Page 104 of Alchemy of Souls

She sighs. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never find your way back to the University. The wards are spellworked to repel and disorient. You can try if you want, but I give you two hours before you come back and tell me I’m right.”

My fists clench because as much as I want her to be wrong, I suspect she isn’t.

“Or,” she says, “you could have some bread and cheese and a glass of wine and listen to what I have to say.” She pushes a plate across the table that reminds me of the snacks I eat with my family.

I see red. “You think I’m just going to sit down with you anddrink wine? Your spell sent a glass dagger into my best friend’s chest! Not to mention you broke my arm and—”

“It wasn’t my spell that made the glass explode,” she counters. “It was someone from your side who used unstable ice. And yes, I broke your arm; it was a calculated risk in getting you out of there. Just the same, I’m sorry about your friend. I never intended on anyone getting hurt.”

I stare at her, both thrown that she apologized and more frustrated than I’ve ever been. But despite what Grayson told me, I need to hear it from Sage. I need to be one hundred percent sure the Lawless didn’tkill my grandad. “Charles Riley,” I say in a tight voice, watching her like a hawk for the slightest tell. “He made weapons for the Guardians in the third tower in Maine.”

Which is why I’m not prepared when she suddenly stands, her chair tipping with the motion. “What did you just say to me?”

“You heard me,” I reply coolly.

Then suddenly she’s standing in front of me. And she’s angry. “Tell me how you know that name,Mage,” she demands, pronouncing the last word with disgust.

Now I’m both suspicious and pissed she called me a Mage, even though I’m technically training to be one. “I could ask you the same thing,Lawless,” I say, matching her challenge.

She takes a step toward me, her hands moving to her sides in a fighting stance. And I step toward her.

Which is also when the tent door flies open and Grayson Stone appears on the other side.

CHAPTER 51Grayson

Eloise’s large eyes double in size.

I’m sure I look a wild mess. I tore my shirtsleeves off in the forest, and I’m sweating, having alternated between normal running and using my wind spell.

But Eloise doesn’t yell or smile in relief. She doesn’t say a word; she just goes right back to staring at Sage. Which is when I realize they’re having a standoff. And I lose my cool.

“What the hell, Sage?” I say, stepping fully inside the tent.

“Stay out of it, Grayson,” Sage bites out.

“I don’t think I will,” I reply, not because Eloise can’t handle herself, but because I’m pissed. “Whatever this is, it’s bullshit.”

The glare Sage gives me is nothing short of deadly. “You wanna talk about bullshit? She’s some Mage-wannabe. And I brought her to my home!”

“Brought? The word you’re looking for iskidnapped,” Eloise says, matching Sage’s outrage. “Unless there was some polite invitation I missed while you were yanking me out a goddamn window?”

“I’ll get to you when I get to you,Mage,” Sage says, and the whole situation inches past heated.

Eloise’s hands curl into fists and Sage’s fingers twitch near her belted dagger. One quick scan of Eloise reveals two pink markson her skin, one on her arm and the other on her forehead. Which tells me she had to be healed after the stunt Sage pulled. And it takes every modicum of my will not to blast Sage across the room for it.

“If you pull that blade, Sage,” I say with deathly calm. “Me and you are going to have a serious problem.”

“We already have one,” Sage says with venom. “Because I swear to everything that if she has anything to do with Charles Riley’s death—”

Sage’s hand wraps around her dagger handle and I lift my hand to cast.

But Eloise doesn’t assume a defensive position. “What?” she says, her voice ratcheting up. “His death? I should be saying that to you! Charles Riley was my grandad!” she yells, and for a split second the entire room stills.

“Charles Riley wasnotyour grandfather,” Sage says, and I can’t imagine why.

“Tell that to my mother. His daughter. Who would have a few choice words for you,” Eloise fires back.

“What was Charles’s hobby?” Sage practically spits, and now I’m beyond confused. What the hell is this conversation?