Chapter 7

W hen I portal back to Nariel, it turns out he's not in his spire.

I stare around at a whole lot of spirits staring back at me. They've frozen where they stood—or flew—some hiding behind nearby spires, peering at me. I'm probably equally wide-eyed.

"Sierra, you're back quickly." Nariel steps up next to me, putting a hand on my back.

He's with me. I relax my grip on my wand.

"I just picked up some takeout and froze it for later," I say casually. "Have our plans changed? This isn't where I thought we were meeting."

That's for the benefit of the spirits: I didn't mean to threaten you, I just wasn't expecting you.

"Not at all. I'm checking things around town now that you've taken care of Bright Earth's gift."

His voice carries, and the spirits visibly react to that news.

I try not to scowl. I'll make my space presentable . I assumed he meant his spire, but it's technically not what he said .

After weeks trapped there he probably does need to check on things on the ground, but he doesn't have to do it with me very explicitly at his side.

I'm apparently silent a beat too long because Nariel adds, a tad quieter, "It would be my pleasure to show you Makora."

Oh. My heart clenches.

He wants to show me where he lives. The place he built.

Not just his spire; his home.

I can't say no to that.

"I would love that, as long as I'm not interfering."

Nariel smiles. "Of course not." He turns to a nearby spirit. "That defense will hold now." Then back to me. "Let's continue to the market."

A spirit market? Okay, I'm down.

Most spirits here are in humanoid forms—some pointy ears or cat eyes or claws, scales for hair and jewel tones for skin and physically improbable proportions, but basically human-like—but there are others, too, some like uncanny animals, others barely taking a form at all.

But they scatter around us as we walk, and after a moment I realize that's not about me; it's how they react to Nariel.

Even if he's helping them, he's not one of them.

I thought about how grateful I was when I met Nariel to have someone who could keep up with me, match me.

How long had it been for him ?

"You're putting your magic into defenses?" I ask .

His shadows flicker around us, and I recognize the feeling as the same technique he showed Seamus when we arrived at the airport—we're not invisible, but nothing we say or do will reach beyond his shadows.

"Yes," Nariel answers. It's the main way I could be of use to my people while confined to my spire. They brought me magic, and I helped arm them."

Huh. I gesture around at us walking out at the open. "I thought you wanted to wait on this."

"I changed my mind."

"Why?"

Nariel's lips curl in a satisfied smirk. "Because now Casimir will wonder why I didn't. And his spies will report us working together seamlessly, and he will wonder how much he has missed. That will make him desperate to drive a wedge between us, which will not work, but it will make him predictable."

Wow. "You're good at this."

"So are you," Nariel tells me. "You just don't know all the players yet—or rather, they don't know you. And that is to your advantage."

I nod slowly. He has a point. The grand magus not ever truly seeing me is what gave me the opportunity to steal his wand. Koshiel not knowing what I could do is what gave me the opportunity to free Nariel. Eventually, I need all the major players to believe I am too powerful to fuck with, but there are worse things than being underestimated .

And if people don't know me, I can decide how I want them to see me.

But I do then have to actually decide that, so, you know, there's that.

"Here we are," Nariel says.

We've been passing through a forest of towers, but now the space opens up into a wide space, like a sports field but circular.

And it's full of shops. Little stands like you'd see at a farmers' market, only everything is made of obsidian.

"I thought magic couldn't damage the landscape?"

"We have tools fashioned of the same material," Nariel explains. "With sufficient magic powering it, some carving is possible. They're incredibly valuable."

And it wouldn't have been until he met other spirits that he could have gotten his hands on one.

It finally occurs to me to look up, because with everything so dark here, how can I still see so clearly? But there's a cover of shadows above as far as the eye can see.

Marking Nariel's territory.

I look back at him, and he extends a hand. "Shall we?" he asks.

All at once, because I'm bad enough with people that I had not connected it before now, I realize what this hand means.

He's showing me his home, introducing me to his people. Taking me shopping before we go back to his place to eat .

He's offering me his hand, which he only ever does as a challenge.

This is a date.

Maybe I shouldn't encourage that, but I haven't turned away from a challenge from him yet, and I'm not going to start now.

I take his hand, and he smiles, and leads me into my first spirit market.

With me present, Nariel speaks to some spirits in English, but more in High Earth languages, where spirits have historically had to work shitty summoning contracts in order not to starve.

He checks on the magical needs of his people, while I take in the things that fulfill them.

There are people trading art and human clothes, tools and books—both from Low Earth and in languages I can't read, and Nariel laughs at how excited that makes me.

To my amusement, there's a whole obsidian cube that inside contains human trappings—not just merchandise, but things like price tags and cash registers, open hours and exit signs—with different corners arranged in different formats, which Nariel explains exists to help spirits practice shopping before trips to Low Earth.

"Would it be helpful to have a human down here teaching and answering questions?" I ask.

The spirit behind the cash register blinks at me, and then just looks at Nariel .

So, not willing to say what they think in front of me, or in front of him?

"That's an idea," Nariel says, neither confirming nor denying.

Huh. I thought he'd be all for more cooperation between our worlds, but maybe he doesn't want to commit to anything before he knows what the spirits actually think of it.

I shrug and let it drop. "Just something to consider in the future."

The market on the whole is a revelation for me, though. I've almost never interacted with spirits outside of a contract, and to my knowledge no human of any world has visited Dark Earth in my lifetime and probably not for centuries.

Even without magic in their world, they're resilient and adaptable and capable of creating astonishing beauty. Seeing what's popular here, I can already think of ways humans might be able to help, not just by giving them things, but by helping spirits become able to get them for themselves. I voice some of those ideas to Nariel in front of groups of spirits to gauge their responses. If I'm reading them right, there's interest but hesitancy, which is fair—their interactions with mages would naturally make them suspicious of a human with magic.

My favorite thing, though—except for the potential of learning spirit languages—is the obsidian sculptures. Some are enormous art pieces, but it's the intricately shaped smaller ones that catch my attention .

"Do you want one?" Nariel asks me, because my interest is not subtle.

"Oh, can I buy some?" I frown. "I think the only currency I have on me is credit cards though."

Nariel smiles. "I'll buy them for you."

Okay, I will allow that this is maybe a date, but this is also a political move and that's a line too far. "Don't be ridiculous. I don't need anyone to buy me things."

Nariel raises his eyebrows. "You paid for my tickets in Low Earth."

"That's different," I argue. "You were assisting me on my mission. Of course I covered your expenses."

The spirit glances back and forth between us, her eyebrows lifting steadily higher.

I feel like there's been a lot of that lately.

"This market operates on a system of bartering and favors," Nariel informs me. "Do you have anything on you that you can do without?"

Damn. My pack is pretty light. "Would food work?"

"No," Nariel growls. "That's not something you can do without."

I mean I could get more easily, but I grump, "You didn't tell me that I needed to bring anything."

"I didn't know you were going to go shopping your first day here."

I level a look at him. "Then why did you bring me to a market? "

I can feel the weight of more eyes on us now, like every spirit in hearing range is watching the show.

"You prefer to only carry necessities when you're traveling," Nariel counters.

"That's true, but I can use these. They would be great spell anchors."

"Then requisition them," Nariel tells me. "We all contribute to our defense here, and keeping Low Earth magic available is in our interest."

"Absolutely not," I snap, pulling my pack around. "These are beautifully crafted, I'm not just taking them!"

Aha! I come up with a $100 bill and show it to the spirit. "Could you use this to buy things in Low Earth?"

Slowly, glancing from Nariel to me and back, the spirit says, "I know what money is."

Not an encouraging answer. I dig around some more, come up with more beads full of magic I'd infused while waiting in line for my food. "How many could this buy me?"

The spirit cocks her head, examining them, then looks back at Nariel for help.

I quickly cast an opaque wall between me and Nariel so the spirit can't see him.

Behind it, Nariel snorts but doesn't object, and the spirit's eyes widen further.

Ignoring that, I tell her, "This is an equal partnership. Low Earth and Dark Earth are working together, not in a vassal relationship on either side. Don't let me extort you. Give me a fair price. If this isn't sufficient, tell me that, and I will make you another offer."

The spirit stares at me for another moment before finally saying, "Nine."

Nine is amazing. "Can I choose which ones?"

She nods wordlessly.

Amazing.

I wave the wall away and start making my choices, though when I glance up Nariel is smirking at me.

I freeze and look back at the spirit. "Did you give me too many?"

Blandly, she says, "I look forward to favorable trade relations between our peoples."

Nariel is clearly fighting back a laugh.

Goddammit. How did I get a good deal but am still the butt of the joke?

Nariel's eyes sharpen, as if he can see my self-doubt creeping back in—that I can talk to people, any kind of people on my own, and hope to understand anything. That I can actually help, rather than people humoring me, or accommodating me when all I bring is complication—

"Excuse us," Nariel says smoothly to the spirit. "Please have her purchases sent to my spire. I believe we're needed elsewhere."

And then he wraps his arms around me and covers us in shadows, launching us straight into the sky and leaving a bewildered populace behind .

I'm quiet as we fly the short distance back to his spire, wrestling with my emotions.

On one hand, smoothly cutting that interaction short was probably for the best. Better than just vanishing on the spot, better than me having to deal with it.

On the other hand, I resent being rescued when I didn't actually ask for help. Nariel didn't wait for me to silently or otherwise request backup—he made the decision for me, grabbed me, and left.

Would I have asked him for help though? Is he just actually offering help the way I need? But is it really helping me if he's undermining my agency? Like, I couldn't have argued with him in this situation without causing a political scene.

By the time he drops us back into his spire I still haven't decided whether to thank him or fight with him. Because I feel like maybe he expects me to thank him, but I'm actually mad and can't decide if that's unfair.

As soon as we're on the ground—inasmuch as it counts as ground when the floor is several hundred feet in the air, but I'm going with it—I step back away from him, out of the warm circle of his arms.

Nariel watches me cautiously, making no sudden moves. Like I'm volatile and about to erupt.

That makes me angrier, and also makes me want to fight him but feel like I can't without seeming petulant .

I take a breath and finally say in a carefully even tone, "Why did you drop me into a public political situation without warning me what to expect?"

"I apologize," Nariel says steadily.

This response from him infuriatingly makes me feel both vindicated and guilty, and I bite my tongue.

"I wanted to demonstrate to you in a low-stakes situation first that I will follow your lead," Nariel says.

I frown. In what way was that me leading?

Though—he let me pick our direction at the market. And when I started haggling he didn't stop me.

"You want to make your own choices, and I understand that. But you are struggling with being in charge, but you also don't want me to be in charge. Would you say that's an accurate summation?" Nariel asks.

I narrow my eyes. "I don't mind you being in charge. I mind not being your equal."

"Yes," Nariel agrees. "I should have said: you don't want me to be in charge of you . But you already are my equal, Sierra. You are worried about losing yourself to me, so this is my proposition: You will take the lead on our pursuits in spirit world, and I will follow you."

I can practically feel the spike of anxiety clouding my head. "How does that make sense? I'm already overwhelmed, and here's a situation you have relevant information about that I don't, so you want me to stumble around even more while you watch?"

"I'm not throwing you to the wolves. I will be here at your side— not sidelined, but as a partner, with all my knowledge and skills at your disposal. But you will decide the strategy. You feel like you don't know how to lead? Then practice , in an arena where someone you trust can bail you out."

And just like a few minutes ago, he will bail me out if needed, and I will let him grab me and carry me into the sky without warning, because I do trust him.

I whisper, "How is this me not losing myself to you?"

Nariel steps closer to me. "You're going to make decisions I wouldn't, despite my years of experience. You need to believe that's okay." Nariel's lips quirk. "And you can see if I truly believe it, too."

Okay. Okay, both of those really are important for me to know, even if we don't bond. Goddammit.

I thump my forehead against his chest.

"Why are you the well-adjusted one," I mutter. "How did you manage that?"

Nariel's arms come around me again, gently this time, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

"I'm not," Nariel says, his hands drawing circles on my back which, let me tell you, feels very good, and I bite my lip against a sigh of pleasure.

Then he adds in a low voice, "I'm a hunter. I'm a man who's decided what I want. And I intend to get it, Sierra."

Oh my god. It should not be legal to be this sexy, what the fuck. I am incredibly not cut out for this .

My heart rate is fluttering wildly, and all I want to do is sink into him, but I don't believe yet that encouraging this bond notion is a good idea.

I suck in air and make myself step back. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a terrifying person?"

Nariel grins, and like every time, it zings straight to my lady parts. "Not anyone who didn't mean it."

I huff. Little does he know. I may not be worried he'll physically hurt me, but not being able to equal him does make my guts twist.

This isn't who I want to be. Abruptly done with all my own nonsense, I turn around and let myself fall straight into his pouf face-first.

Man, that's satisfying.

Nariel laughs behind me. "Make yourself at home."

Stop that, heart.

"I was promised rest," I declare into the pouf.

The pouf shifts as Nariel sits on it. "Indeed you were," he purrs, petting me gently and I absolutely refuse to shiver. "Are you going right to sleep? Do you need anything first?"

Oh my god, why is he perfect.

Here it goes.

"Maybe a change of clothes," I say. "I left some in your closet."

Nariel's hand pauses. "Did you?"

I roll over onto my side to look up at him. "Is your spire not my spire? "

A fierce, possessive look flashes across his face, and my breath catches.

I knew, obviously, that Nariel likes me. He wouldn't have gone to all the trouble he had before otherwise.

But this is the first moment I have genuinely believed he might actually be attracted to me like I am to him.

The expression is there and gone in an instant, and while I'm still reeling, Nariel bows with a flourish. "Of course, my lady."

Then he dissolves into shadows.

I breathe once, twice.

Then on the third I sit up, arranging my face into an innocent expression.

I hear Nariel open the bag I left and wait for him to see what's inside.

Seconds pass.

A minute.

Anticipation is killing me here, which is no doubt what he intends.

Then finally he emerges, holding a large pajama top covered in adorable cats.

And the rest of him is clad only in matching pajama pants, his pale, ripped chest totally exposed for me to gawk at, looking like the cat who got the cream.

Tactical error, tactical error!

Nariel kneels down in front of me, handing me the shirt. "You bought us matching festive pajamas. "

And he's wearing them.

After joking about this in the airports we passed through, I thought he would laugh , not actually wear them.

"This isn't part of my set," I say. "It's yours."

"Oh, I disagree," he purrs. "I think this will fit you better, and then I need not cover my wings while resting."

Him shirtless, and me in just a large boyfriend-style sleep shirt.

I challenged him, and now he's raising the stakes back on me again.

Challenging me to prove that I'm not, in fact, bothered by his wings. His insecurity.

Challenging me to prove that I can, actually, resist him.

Do I dare raise the stakes in return?

What kind of question is that, who even am I?

Obviously there is only one possible answer.

I hand the shirt back to him as I stand up.

Then I start stripping.

Nariel freezes.

My heart pounds. Trying to be as casual about this as possible, I say, "Well, if that's how you're going to be about matching pajamas, I suppose I'll save myself some trouble next time and just shop for a single outfit in the men's section."

I'm standing in front of him now in only my underwear, and while I have never given much thought to underwear previously, I am suddenly very glad I always wear black.

Nariel is totally immobile, his expression blank .

But his eyes—his eyes have gone full black.

And that only happens when he's using a lot of power, or he's feeling emotions very, very strongly.

I lean forward—does his gaze drop to my boobs? Hard to say without pupils to reference—and pluck the shirt from his limp hands, shrugging it over my head.

Then I put my hands on my hips and arch my eyebrows at him.

Slowly, as if coming out of a daze, Nariel's face creases.

And then he is doubled over, shaking with laughter.

Okay, that's the reaction I was originally going for, but that was before I stripped in front of him—

Quick as lightning, Nariel's hand darts out and he tugs me onto the pouf with him.

I start to twist, only to find myself pressed with my back against his chest.

Nariel presses a kiss to my cheek, and this time I freeze.

I thought his grins were dangerous, but this is another level.

"You're perfect," Nariel whispers against me, and this time I do shiver.

I want to kiss him so badly.

But then one of his wings appears, covering me like a blanket, enveloping me in warmth.

"Sleep," Nariel murmurs against me .

My body is like a live wire. I'm going to lie here awake trying to breathe evenly and not crawl out of my skin for hours.

Except—for the first time in weeks I feel completely, utterly safe.

And to my utter shock, in minutes I'm out like a light.