Page 59 of Homeward for a Spell

“Not that it isn’t wonderful to see you, but what happened?” Araphi asks as she wrings out her hair. Droplets patter the floor, beyond which the dark and rushing water is just visible, as if through a golden veil. “Did Bramble shove you in to cover their tracks?”

“I came in after you, of course,” Sage mutters, looking vaguely embarrassed.

Araphi stills as the truth nearly knocks her over.

Sage abandoned everything—her gear, the party, her ambitions of leading them to success, and common sense—to dive into a deadly and inescapable river…for her?

Maybe it doesn’t mean everything that Araphi wishes it did. But it makes her feel precious and cared for in a way she’s never felt before, and something in her cracks open as she looks at Sage. No one in her family would’ve come after her like that. They probably accepted the lie that she’d absconded to a spa on short notice without question. Just flirty, flighty Araphi, dithering about the kingdom before finally doing as she’s bid. What must they think of her truly? How long would it have taken them to miss her if she’d never resurfaced?

“Where are we?” Sage asks, interrupting Araphi’s brewing thunderstorm of a mood.

Araphi pushes her confused mess of feelings away and tugs on the small bronze acorn she’s worn as a pendant since they’d left Kingfisher. It glows with the same golden light as the pulsing walls, gentle as spring sunshine. The space it’s created is about the size of a large carriage’s interior, floating like a submerged lantern within the Swallow. Although they’re both soaked to the bone, in here it’s warm and dry.

“We’re inside a pocket dimension,” Araphi says with a grin.

“A pocket dimension?” Sage echoes weakly. She moves to sit up properly and winces, a hand flying to her knee; that can’t be good.

“Are you all right?” Araphi asks.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine, Ranger.”

“I assure you, we’ve bigger problems to deal with. Now, please explain?”

Araphi settles next to her on the shimmering floor, placing Sage’s boot between them for Sage to take and slip gingerly into. “Well, according to the merchant I bought the charm from, it’s a place carved out of space and time by a deity via a captured spell. ‘Absolutely guaranteed for up to at least ten minutes.’ ”

Sage’s eyes go wide. “You bought a pocket dimension? They’re incredibly valuable. I’ve heard stories but never seen one.” She reaches out to touch the acorn charm resting in Araphi’s light-kissed palm.

“The trader who sold me supplies in Kingfisher said it might come in handy, but I wasn’t positive. Turns out it was worth bartering some of my jewelry to afford.”

“You sold your jewelry for a magical trinket of dubious repute?”

Araphi snorts. “I’d say I sold my jewelry for a magical trinket of excellent repute, since we’re currently safe. At least, for the next eight minutes or so.”

This sparks a smile from Sage, bringing out her damned dimple. “You’re full of surprises.”

Araphi rests a palm on Sage’s thigh and feels the ranger’s muscles tighten under her hand. “You didn’t have to come after me, you know.” Her words are full of everything she wants to say, but can’t bring herself to just yet.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have if I’d known you had a pocket dimension handy.” Sage’s voice is gruff, though there’s a tenderness to it. “But what else was I supposed to do? You’re my party. I’d jump in for any of you…except Bramble.” She scowls fiercely.

“What about Remy?”

“Questionable as well,” she admits. “But you, always.”

Araphi inhales sharply around rising tears. It’s the single most romantic declaration of her life—better than any jewel, gift, or kiss she’s ever had. Yet somehow she cannot find the right words to give in response. Sage’s bravery and her belief that Araphi’s life is worth saving have undone her completely.

Tell her you love her.

Is that the truth of it? Does she love Sage? It’s not been very long together—mere weeks, unless you count them meeting last summer at a fashion show in Bloomfield, and the nights since where her mind may have strayed to Sage’s dimpled grin or the shape of her thighs beneath her breeches—but whatever spark was begun in Margot Greenwillow’s rose garden has somehow grown, and now it warms Araphi like the light spilling from her fingers.

Can she really love Sage? Certainly, Sage can’t love her.

But maybe love is just a willingness to put everything on the line for somebody. To be brave both for them and with them all at once. Sage fearlessly dove into the impossibly dangerous waters of the Swallow for Araphi.

Surely Araphi should be brave enough to tell the ranger how she truly feels.

Perhaps the adventure will still come to its end, one way or another, but at this moment, in this golden light between dimensions, it feels like anything is possible.