Chapter 125. Every Channel Opened at Once, and I Still Hadn’t Told Her About the Window

Chapter 125: 125. Every Channel Opened at Once, and I Still Hadn’t Told Her About the Window

Ding!

[BOND STATUS UPDATE]

[Partner: Sylvara Moonveil]

[Species: Deerkin, Moonbound]

[Rank: SSS]

[Bond Status: Established]

[Partner Record: Elsbeth Evershade, Millie, Velora Nightclaw, Sylvara Moonveil]

Lust Energy: 100/100 Passive decay will resume.

I woke slowly in the pale gray hour before sunrise, in a small room off the garden, with a thin quilt tucked around my shoulders and the smell of night jasmine in my nose.

I lay there for a minute, listening to the birds begin to wake in the old silver tree outside.

I felt very calm... I felt, for the first time in a while, entirely like myself.

I turned my head.

And yes... She was awake. My milf.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, with her knees together and her back very straight, in the plain gray gown.

She’d taken off her hat, as she always did at night, and now it sat in her lap, with her slender hands folded over the brim.

Her lights drifted through the air around her, slow and soft and golden. She had been there for some time.

I knew because a faint line of dew had formed on the windowsill beside her, and the candle on the table had burned right down to the stub.

She was looking at me, with a very small smile.

"You were watching me sleep," I said, hoarsely.

"I was keeping watch."

"That’s the same thing."

"It is not."

"It’s a little bit the same."

She laughed, a quiet, breathy sound. She had never, I realized, looked this way before.

In the soft gray light, with no hat, no staff, and none of the careful, ancient composure that she wore like a coat, she looked years younger.

Her cheeks were faintly pink. Her eyes, a deep violet, were bright and shy and entirely human.

When she saw me looking, a blush climbed all the way up to her ears, and she dropped her gaze to her hands.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything lovelier.

Ding.

[REWARD SELECTION: SYLVARA]

[Prismatic Conduit: Opens every channel of mana within the host. Allows the use of any element, provided the power is borrowed from a bonded partner who freely consents. Each loan drains the lender.

[Moonlit Insight: The ability to perceive magic and hidden enchantments at great distance.]

[Everynight Shroud: A veil of shadow that deflects harm.

I read the three entries twice, and then a third time, slowly.

A long time ago, a different window had offered me a different list, and I’d chosen a body that could survive a hit.

Since then I’d only gotten faster and tougher and a little bit smarter.

But I had never once been able to do something different.

I’d been a fist. A sturdy, stubborn, badly coordinated fist.

Cassian had chains and mirrors and every trick in the book.

’Prismatic Conduit,’ I thought. ’Every channel. Every element. It was frighteningly good.’

’It was the kind of option that made a man nervous.’

But I’d learned something in the last few weeks. Strength that came from somewhere else, from someone who chose to give it, was the only kind that I trusted.

I picked it.

[Selection confirmed.]

[Wardsight no longer available.]

Something opened.

I can’t describe it. It felt as though somebody had gone through my body and thrown open every shutter and every door.

A warm, enormous, glittering rush went through me, from the top of my skull to the soles of my feet, like a river meeting the sea.

Every muscle in my body hummed.

Every nerve lit up, faintly, in a thousand colors I couldn’t name.

And through it all ran a single thin thread of silver, bright as a wire, reaching out from my chest into the dark.

I gasped.

"Leon?" Sylvara’s hand was on my shoulder. "What is it?"

"Something," I said hoarsely. "Something in me..."

"It’s like all the pipes opened at once...! Like a, like every door in a house."

Her eyes widened. She laid two fingers against my wrist, and I watched her face change.

"The channels," she whispered. "Every one of them..."

"They were locked... sealed, as I told you."

"And now..." She stared at me. "They are open... All of them."

"Is that bad?"

"It is extraordinary." She shook her head slowly. "It should not be possible."

"A mortal body cannot hold so much... But you are not holding it, are you?"

"There is almost nothing there... Only the roads." She looked up, and her eyes were shining. "It is a door, Leon."

"A door through which others may pass."

I didn’t tell her about the window. I couldn’t.

I wasn’t ready. I only held very still and tried to breathe and watched the silver thread stretch out from my chest and curl away toward the faint warm glow of a woman lying a few inches from me.

I’ll tell you about the first test, because it’s the only one that went well.

Sylvara got a candle. She set it on the table by the bed, a thick, white stub, and she held out her hand, with her palm turned up.

"I will give you a small amount of moonlight," she said. "Not much... Just a thread."

"You will not take it... I will lend it."

"Accept it, and tell me what you feel."

I closed my eyes.

There was a faint pull at the center of my chest, light as a feather.

A thread of cool, pale light slid up my arm like a drop of mercury and gathered itself at the tips of my fingers.

I felt it like a hum. I opened my eyes and held out my hand toward the candle.

It lit.

It didn’t flare. It caught softly, quietly, with a clear, steady flame that wasn’t orange or gold.

It was silver, bright as a coin, and it burned without flickering or smoking.

The whole room was suddenly washed in a pale, cool radiance, like the glow of the moon.

We watched it for three minutes.

It didn’t waver once. It stood up straight on its wick, calm as a held breath, throwing a halo of light onto the ceiling.

Sylvara’s face, in the glow of it, was transfixed. Her eyes were swimming.

"Quite remarkable," she whispered.

I looked at her. And she looked back.

Neither of us said anything.

I would like to point out that I’d made a rule, a good, careful, sensible rule, that I’d say "May I?" before I took anything.

I’d forgotten. It was only afterward, when she sagged a little and put one hand against the table, that I realized I’d drawn on her without asking.

"I’m so sorry," I said, horrified. "I didn’t; I should have said..."

"It is quite all right." She smiled, a little breathlessly, and brushed the hair out of her eyes. "It was a small thing."

"But you must remember to ask."

"I will."

"Every time."

"Every time."

We tried again after breakfast.

I’d like to say it was in the quiet of the great hall, under the dome. But eh... It wasn’t.

It was in the Nightclaw practice yard, with half of Velora’s cavalry hanging over the wall in their off-duty cloaks, because word had gotten around, and apparently there is nothing in the world more entertaining to a professional soldier than a man trying to learn magic.

Elsbeth and Velora had come to lend a hand.

"The rule," Velora said, standing in front of me with her arms folded, "is simple."

"Before you borrow, you ask."

"You say, May I... You wait for an answer."

"You do not proceed until it is given."

"Got it."

"Say it."

"May I?"

"Not to me... and not yet! Elsbeth first."

Elsbeth stepped forward. She’d changed into a clean coat, and she had a small notebook in her pocket, which I was fairly sure she planned to use.

She stood with her hands clasped in front of her, very straight, and very cool.

"May I borrow some ice?" I said.

"You may," said Elsbeth. "It is a loan... I expect it returned undamaged."