Page 136 of Sword & Sacrifice

“Grimoire,” Penn said, his eyes lighting up. “I’ll be right back.” And he ran out of the room.

Valerian cocked his head as he watched Penn run off, then turned his attention back to Adelaide. “Anything you’d like to tell me while he’s gone?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Aside from berating you again for bringing this upon yourself? If there’s one thing you remember in the future, I hope it’s not to mess around with other mage’s grimoires.”

Valerian grimaced. “I thought I was helping. Or I think I thought I was helping.”

She sighed. “That’s my point exactly. I will tell you this: you cannot rely on Penn for everything. He’s overflowing with guilt because he feels like he didn’t save you, and I think he would willingly give up his own life, his freedom, to piece you back together.”

Images flitted through Valerian’s mind one after another: Penn on his knees, eyes hooded as he took Valerian into his mouth; sitting patiently at an inn’s table as Valerian inked a spell into his skin; smacking him in the chest, raging at him for pretending to betray them. Tears falling from his eyes, splashing onto Valerian’s face, as he promised not to leave.

A muscle ticked in Valerian’s jaw and he raised his chin, glaring at Adelaide with determination. “I’m not giving him up, if that’s what you mean.”

“Would you rather be a burden to him?”

Valerian considered her question for a long time. This time, the images weren’t memories, only his own worries: Penn’s mischief turning to exasperation, then anger, then hate, and finally apathy as Valerian’s condition drained every ounce of love from him. I should let him go. Let him live a life where he doesn’t have to drag around an addled husk of a man who can barely remember his own name. But the idea of leaving him hurt worse than the lingering flames in Val’s mind. “He’s the one clear thing in my head. Something I held onto until the very end. I may not remember much about myself right now, but I know I’m too selfish to leave him ‘for his own good.’”

“Good,” Penn said as he strode back into the room, balancing a stack of books. “Because I’d knock you out, tie you to my horse, and drag you around with me anyway.” He dropped the books next to Valerian. “I haven’t read any of these yet, but they’re yours. From your shop in Swallow’s Nest.”

“I had a shop?” Valerian asked, arching his brows in surprise. “Never pictured myself as a shopkeeper—sounds boring.” But even as he spoke, his first memory of Penn flashed through his mind again: Penn coming into his shop one day, wearing a mischievous smile and proposing ‘favors’ in exchange for Val’s services. Valerian had only paid attention to Penn before, but now that he focused on the image, more details became clear: the walls lined with his products, the open sign on the window. “Oh, that’s right, we met at that shop. Maybe it was worth it being a shopkeeper after all.”

Penn’s breath hitched. “You remember that.”

Valerian looked up from his journals, a slow smile curving over his lips. “You know, it’s still a little foggy. Perhaps you could give me a demonstration to refresh the memory?”

He heard the quiet footsteps departing as Adelaide left the room.

Penn stepped closer to Valerian and wrapped his arms around Val’s shoulders. “Is that how this is going to play out? You use your damaged mind to flirt with me?”

Val settled his hands on Penn’s hips and pulled him closer, until there was no space between them. “Is it working?”

Penn’s lips curved in a seductive smile. “It might be. There’s a lot of things I could refresh your memory on.” He leaned forward and whispered in Val’s ear, “Like fucking you until your legs go weak.”

“Actually, I think I remember that,” Valerian said, “In some lord’s fancy bathtub, right?”

Penn’s lips pursed in disappointment.

Laughing, Valerian leaned up to kiss the pout away, “I’d also be very happy making a whole lifetime’s worth of new memories with you, Penn Kaurier.”

Chapter Fifty-Five

Archer stood near a pile of rubble that had once been a cottage, holding a large stone in one hand. Was it the remains of one of those creatures or someone’s home? Everything blurred together in the ruins.

So much destruction. So much loss. Thankfully, the loss of life had not been greater. The guards left behind had protected the citizens until Kern and his soldiers arrived to even the playing field.

Once again, Alistair had taken so much from Arnsveld. Though the mage was gone—for good this time—his presence lingered in every home he destroyed, every family he tore apart.

Some selfish part of Archer was angriest over the knowledge that he could not leave his country like this. Even though they’d won the fight and the villain had been defeated, he couldn’t return to Silas.

They had no idea how far across the mountain range Alistair’s magic had spread, how many other cities had been destroyed. Messengers from other cities had reported their own damage and more arrived every day. Fallen trees, rocks, and other debris made the paths difficult to traverse, slowing everyone down. It could be months before they knew the full extent of the damage.

The oncoming winter only threatened to worsen the situation. Already the air had a bite to it. The first snow would fall soon. At least the castle had mostly survived Alistair’s magic. It could house the citizens of Casselarn until the winter winds receded. But what about the other citizens of his kingdom? Those too far away to arrive before the first blizzard ravaged the mountains?

Soft footsteps alerted him to someone’s approach. He looked over his shoulder to watch his mother walk toward him. Her trousers and tunic were already dust-covered from a long day’s work. She smiled when they locked eyes, though there was a touch of sadness in the expression.

“We’ll rebuild,” she assured him, laying one hand on his arm. “Our people are strong, they’ll recover.”

Archer nodded, still staring down at the rubble. “I want …” He swallowed, his tongue thick and clumsy. “I want them to have one good year, without war or hunger or struggle or”—he waved at the destruction—“this.”