Never (Never, #1) (63)

Jamison flashes me a smug smile.

I clap my hand on my chest in self-defence. “I didn’t know I was going to the mountains today, and my fairy didn’t want to make me a jacket.”

She blinks. “You have a fairy?”

“Well—” I tilt my head. “No?”

“Maybe?” Jamison considers. “Sor’ of.”

“No.” I shake my head. “She’s my friend. She made me these boots.” I flash them to her.

Itheelia stares at them, frowning a bit. “What’s this fairy’s name?”

“Rune,” I tell her. “Why?”

She shakes her head, thinking. “Just, strange. Fairies don’t tend to take to little earthlings all that often.”

I’m not entirely sure that that’s an insult, but I’m also not not sure either.

“Well, she certainly didn’t care for it when Jamison asked her to make me a coat so he didn’t have to give me his.”

He breathes out loudly again as his mother gasps, smacking him on the arm. He throws me an unimpressed look, and I don’t know what I’ve done but I grin at him, pleased he’s back in trouble again.

“You asked a fairy to make you something?”

“Her something!”

“What did she say?”

I jump back in. “Mostly she just yelled at him and told him to give me his.”

Her eyes pinch at me. “You speak Stj?r?”

“Well too.” Jamison nods, staring over at me, and for some reason, I blush.

“Interesting.” She nods to herself and then turns away. She snaps her fingers and slides her hand to the right, and the rocks move with her, revealing a home built within the wall of the cave.

My jaw falls to the floor, and I grab Jem’s arm with both my hands as I stare up at him. “She’s magic?”

He smiles down at me and walks inside, and somehow, for some reason, I don’t let go of him. My grip moves down a little so I’m holding on to his wrist now, almost hugging his arm as we walk into his mother’s home.

I lean in towards him and whisper, “Why is she magic and you’re not?”

“I could be.” He shrugs. “Probably am. Just daen practice.”

“Oh.” I frown. “Why?”

He shrugs again with the indifference that a person only can if they’ve grown up around magic. “Who has the time?”

“You—” I stare at him. “What do you even do in a day?”

“Oh, you know.” He sighs but catches my eye playfully. “Rescue women that fall from the sky, buy wayward souls dresses—”

I (unsuccessfully) bite back a smile.

Itheelia Le Faye is rummaging around in a wardrobe, and when she turns back around to us, she’s holding a beautiful fur coat in her arms.

Her eyes land on my hands, holding her son how I am, and she stares for a few seconds. Then, ever so faintly, as though tugged by an invisible string, I see a hint of a smile.

“Put this on.” She shoves the coat into my hands.

Somewhat reluctantly, I unfurl myself from Jamison’s arm, and he gently tugs his coat off my body.

“First time I’m undressing ye and it’s in front of my marm,” he sighs, and I roll my eyes at him.

He pulls his coat back on himself and blows air out of his mouth like he’s been freezing this whole time (though he’s not said a word about it), then he takes the coat from my arms and holds it open for me. I slip inside it, and maybe his hands hover on my arms a second longer than they need to, I’m not sure.

I look over at his mother. “He’s very well-mannered.”

“He is.” She nods, proud, before she looks at her son, struck as though she’s just remembered something. “I’ve something for you.”

She darts out the room, and as she does, I notice some stones in a bowl with carvings on them. I pick one up to inspect it, then glance at Jem. “What are these?”

“Truth runes,” he says.

“What?” I blink.

“You throw them in the air and ask a yes or no question, and the way the stones land tells you the answer.”

I stare over at him, incredulous. “How?”

Jem pulls a face, as though he thinks I’m silly. “Magic.”

“Oh.” I flash him an embarrassed smile.

“Here, I’ll show ye.” Jem grabs the stones and tosses them into the air. “Is Daphne attracted to me?”

In a panicked rush, not knowing quite what to do, I dive to cover the pirate’s eyes and quickly scramble the stones as they land.

Jem peels his hands off me and gives me a look.

I shrug demurely. “You wouldn’t have liked the answer.”

He flicks me a look. “Aye, but I already ken the answer, so…”

“I know you think you know the ans—”

“Oh.” He cuts me off. “I know the answer.”

My eyes pinch because I feel like I’m losing and I’m see-through, and clearly, I am, but then his eyes pinch back at me, and for some reason, it makes me feel better.

“Well.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You think I’m attractive.”

“Sure.” He gives me a look. “Ye d?dnae need the stones to tell ye that though.”