Page 27 of Homeward for a Spell

“Suit yourself,” Celia snorted. “This looks like the worst, most tedious sort of trouble.”

Araphi had ground her teeth against her reply. Even if she did get robbed, it would be worth it for the music.

And it was. The bards that night were sublime. Unlike anything Araphi had ever heard. They played “The Wheel and the Whaler” and dozens of other tavern favorites, but it wouldn’t have mattered what they played; it was the place and the people in the tavern that made it so special.

Her mother had been right. Being a bard in a tavern, in an in-between place, was entirely different from playing music alone or in a drawing room. It was magic in the purest sense, and Araphi felt drunk from the songs and the strong whiskey she’d enjoyed. The seeds of Phi Runesong had been sown that night, and Araphi liked to think her younger self would be so proud to see her now, an official bard with an adventure party, having won one of the Dragon’s Bane’s legendary competitions.

“You’re taking to the road well, Bard,” Sage calls back at her, interrupting Araphi’s memories. Her hazel eyes sparkle with mischief.

Araphi grins at her teasing, flirtatious tone, ignoring the pain in her feet. “I’m nothing if not adaptable.”

Sage smirks. “I bet that’s true.”

Araphi wants to say more, but Sage turns back to the path, her attention once again focused on the journey ahead and not the girl behind her.

Heat pools between Araphi’s thighs and for one aching moment she longs to pull the ranger into a copse of trees and—

Stop thinking about Sage’s hands running along your inner thighs. Her fingers circling your nipples, then slipping into—

Araphi starts coughing.

“Everything okay back there, Bard?”

Cheeks flushed, Araphi waves Sage’s concern away. “Absolutely fine. Just got a piece of apple stuck in my throat.”

Sage meets her gaze, holding it for a beat and with that look, Araphi feels the ranger can read her every delicious, dangerous thought.

Delicious, dangerous thoughts she absolutely needs to stop thinking. She is a professional bard, not a horny teenager dreaming about the girl at school she has a crush on.

“Focus,” Araphi whispers to herself under her breath. “Let’s consider what else might be waiting for you on the road and what you can do about it.”

Araphi’s mind floats back to her fighting lesson earlier that morning.

Duck, thrust, parry. Then strike when you have an opening.

With small, controlled movements so she doesn’t fall over, Araphi mimics the way she and Sage sparred. It was like a dance, and gods know Araphi has been to enough balls in her time. There was footwork, watching your partner, the moment when one of you was bold, and then the final move that decided it all.

Make note of the moment Sage takes control. Nura’s words float back to Araphi, so innocent, so contextually relevant, and so thoroughly intoxicating.

They utterly wreck Araphi’s good intentions to not think about Sage. What would it feel like to let Sage take control somewhere besides the sparring ground?

Gods. Araphi closes her eyes for a moment, imagining it. Would the ranger’s hands be gentle? A calloused finger trailing along Araphi’s lower lip, then tracing her jaw? Would they be firm? A hand threading through Araphi’s hair and pulling her mouth up for a kiss? Sage certainly looks like she knows how to take control when she wants to, but would she know how to cede it as well? Would she let Araphi pin her against a tree and…

Remy shoves past her suddenly, calling Sage’s name as he approaches, and the ranger turns, a questioning look on her face. Her brows come together as Remy draws closer.

Araphi pulls her waterskin from her bags and takes a long pull. She tears her eyes away from Sage. Gods, what is Araphi doing? She’s an engaged woman, and getting involved with Sage while they are traveling would be a terrible mistake.

Before she can berate herself any further, Bramble strides up beside Araphi.

“Hello to you, Phi Runesong!” they say cheerfully. Their golden curls flop around with every step and a wide smile covers their face.

“Hello to you, Bramble!” she says back, smiling. She’s already fond of the healer’s easy cheer and grateful for their skills. “Do you know what’s happening there?” She nods toward Sage and Remy.

Bramble shrugs and shoves their hair out of their eyes. “Not sure. He had a map in hand and was muttering about a welcome party.”

“I hope we get there soon. And that there’s an actual bed waiting. I’ve not had many outdoorsy experiences.” Araphi stretches as she says it, but then immediately wishes she could take the words back. “What about you? Is this normal for you?”

“I don’t live outside, if that’s what you mean.” Bramble’s smile is thin. “Though I’ve slept beneath the stars before. I’m from a village near the sea, and our temple to my patron god is offshore—half a day’s sailing to get to the island. It’s rough enough, if not wild.”