“Yes?” Nezael asked.
“You just went quiet,” Yorick said. “And looked so content there.”
Heat bloomed across Nezael’s neck and threatened to creep up his face. “No one’s invited me to a meal like this,” he said and settled his spoon down. “I’m fed fine, make no mistake, but this is... nice. Different, but nice.”
“You’re welcome to come by any time you want,” Yorick said. “Maybe you could teach me some magic. The candles twinkle nicer when you light them.”
There it was, all the warmth rushing to Nezael’s face, and he tried to hide it by looking at the candle. Teaching magic wasn’t possible if the potential wasn’t there and in Yorick, it definitely wasn’t, but Nezael kept it to himself. “I’d love to.” Nezael smiled shyly at him. “I think you’re the first person I’ve ever met on my own.”
His gaze drifted to the window, scared of Yorick’s expression after having admitted that aloud, and he jolted. Dusk bloomed across the grove in streaks of pinks and oranges. “Oh. Oh no.” He almost clattered over his chair attempting to dash back to the door for his cloak and boots. “It’s late. It’s really late.”
“What’s wrong?” Yorick was right there, yanking his own boots on too as though he intended to follow Nezael out the door.
“I need special plants,” Nezael explained as he laced up his boots. “They’re called life blossoms and they bloom at this time each year. They have immense magical properties and I need them.”
“I think I know them,” Yorick said and Nezael faced him, astonished. “It’s used in tea to help with healing. I saw some earlier this week not far.”
Nezael nodded fervently. “Please. Show me.”
As the sun grew dim along the tips of the trees, drawing dark shadows across the woods, Yorick hurried Nezael through the trails and pointed out the two plants beginning to hum with blooming life blossoms along the river’s edge. They shone faintly like firelight, twinkling with magic, and Nezael deftly clipped them with his dagger. Two of them would have to do for now, even if he feared his lord’s reaction.
Before Nezael could run back to the tower, panic pushing magic into his legs to make him faster, Yorick took his hand. “Tomorrow,” he said, “I can show you more. They’re deeper in the woods.”
Nezael nodded. “I’ll try to come by,” he said. “Thank you.” He brought Yorick’s hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles before he turned and ran through the forest.
It was only when he caught sight of the tower did he realize perhaps it’d been too intimate a motion, but he couldn’t take it back now, nor could he return to spy on Yorick’s reaction. He had to stay focused.
The sun’s light had lowered past the top of the tower and Nezael hurried inside, sad jar of only two life blossoms tight in his arms.
His lord was there inside the door as though waiting for him, although this time he wasn’t frantically pulling on a cloak to mount a search. He regarded Nezael coldly as Nezael came inside and when his gaze landed on the jar, his expression hardened.
“I found two,” Nezael said, breathless from the run. “I-It was growing dark when I determined another place to search and I didn’t want to be late coming home.” He held the jar close and couldn’t meet Carrow’s gaze. “I will find the rest of what we need tomorrow. I promise.”
The sigh from Carrow’s lips dug deep. “Life blossoms are decidedly rare,” he murmured as he drew closer. He tipped Nezael’s chin upward to look at him. Carrow was resigned, not annoyed. Small miracles. “You did fine, my blossom. Agatha should be done with supper about now. Go eat.”
Nezael blinked. “What about you?”
“I’ve other matters to attend to.” He gently brought a hand through Nezael’s hair. “I will speak to you tomorrow once we have acquired the life blossoms.” He traced the same hand down to Nezael’s cheek. “Am I clear?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Have the blossoms tomorrow. That was the command. Nezael didn’t want to find out what happened if he didn’t or if he let a distraction stray him from this path he’d been on for years. He couldn’t throw it away. Not now.
Morning came after a silent evening alone and a fitful night of sleep. Nezael was out of the tower doors without prompting before frost had melted from the grass. Sallow sunrays hardly penetrated the forest today, but even in the dark gray shades of morning, he knew his way to Yorick’s cabin by heart.
Yorick wasn’t outside this time—the axe was where they’d left it yesterday—and at first, Nezael worried he was gone in the morning, but one knock upon the door proved his worries unfounded. Yorick immediately answered, already dressed warmly, and had the scarf Nezael had knitted around his neck. Nezael smiled, but immediately dashed it aside to hold up his jar.
“You told me you’d show me where the other blossoms were,” he said.
“I know,” Yorick said, smiling faintly. “I’m sure we’ll get enough and more.”
Yorick strode through the woods with such ease, Nezael wondered if his lord’s wards had ever worked on the man. The magic was certainly there, but the farther ones must have waned over time. If Nezael was sent out to redo them come spring, he needed to make sure to keep it this way. Let Yorick through unheeded. There were ways to and he’d figure it out in time.
The path took him deeper in the woods than he’d ever gone on his own where light receded beyond the branches too thick overhead. With ease, Nezael made a sphere of light in his hands to guide them, and it wasn’t long afterward before they found a grove full of life blossoms. Each one flickered like candlelight in the dark. Soft shimmers of magic folded over the petals as they took what was left for them. Soon, Nezael’s jar was full enough to be a light of its own and Yorick didn’t stop from showing him the other herbs in the grove. All kinds Nezael knew Isabella needed more of and together, he and Yorick clipped all they could into the jar. He did it all the way back to the trail and Nezael was glad for his help, but tried and tried to keep from distractions this time. He’d already tested his lord enough.
When they returned to the well-traveled road, Nezael figured it was enough and stopped Yorick from taking him to yet another hidden grove.
“I think this will be plenty,” he said, happy with how the jar warmed his fingers. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”
Yorick nodded. “My wanderings come in handy,” he said and paused. “Are you all right?” Nezael lifted his eyebrows. “You’ve been distant. Not like you were yesterday.”
Nezael shook his head. “I’m fine. I just really, really needed these. I shouldn’t have spent so much time at your cabin yesterday.” He stopped, taking in a sharp breath seeing the hurt in Yorick’s expression. “N-No. I mean—I mean...” He dropped his head, thoughts scrambling in a panic. “I love spending time with you. I swear.”
Yorick waited, watching Nezael, but Nezael couldn’t look up at him. After too long, Yorick tilted his head. “What are the herbs for?” he whispered, like he feared speaking too loudly.
Nezael hesitated, pressing the jar closer. No lie came to mind.
“Is it for the necromancer?”
Hearing the term out in the open like this made Nezael’s heart race and he stared at Yorick, wide-eyed. He’d leaned against the wooden fencing around the road. Holly bushels had been wrapped around the posts like the bridge.
“It’s the going rumor,” Yorick supplied and gazed at the life blossoms. “That’s what it takes to raise a skeleton, right?”
“How do you know that?”
Yorick shrugged. “In the old days, people buried their loved ones with a life blossom so when they met the reaper, they had something to trade. I figure it must have been born from something.”
“Life blossoms raise human skeletons by becoming the heart the soul latches onto,” Nezael whispered. “Animals are easier—they don’t require the same.”
