Page 66 of Seducing the Sorcerer
“Wait,” Morgrim said. “Watch.”
The hex crawled a short distance, seemed to lose the way, and turned back towards the cliff it had just come up. It faltered, stopped. It appeared to grow and Fenn’s heart leapt into his mouth thinking it was getting stronger or gathering itself to leap into the air. Then it vanished like a burst bubble, leaving only a wet stain on the rock.
“Gone,” Fenn said. “It has gone?”
Morgrim took in a huge breath and let it out. “Yes. Gone. Used up its power.”
Fenn took a deep breath too, relief coursing through him like warm beer.
“Right. Best be getting back, then. You ready? Won’t ask you to hold tighter because I prefer my ribs unbroken and I like to breathe now and then.” He clicked his tongue and put his heels to Squab’s sides. “Come up, lad.”
The horse gathered itself and launched off the edge, nice and smooth. He’d known it would. It was a different animal in the air.
He patted its neck as they flew over the headland. “Good lad, Squab. Good horse.”
Morgrim said, “Fenn? I haven’t said. Thank you. You saved my life. You and your horse.”
“Aye, no matter.”
Morgrim gave a genteel snort into Fenn’s ear. “It matters to me.”
“Aye, well. To me and all. What I meant was I don’t need no thanks. Not letting a wet fucker like that get a gorgeous bloke like you. And that’s on my own account. You understand? Last night meant a lot to me.”
Morgrim didn’t say anything, but his vice-like grip about Fenn’s middle relaxed, just a fraction. Fenn surprised himself by smiling into the wind as the tower grew closer.
Chapter 13
They landed on the tower bridge to cheering from the city. People lined the walls. They stood on roofs, waved from windows and balconies and flagpoles. Clearly, while some folk loved to hate Morgrim, sometimes they plain loved him as well. Morgrim slipped off the horse, staggered and grabbed hold of Fenn’s calf to stop himself falling. Fenn steadied him by the shoulder.
“Sorry,” Morgrim muttered. “Legs not working.”
“Give them a minute.”
Aramella ran up, not from the palace but from the tower. She wore leather armour that was too large and not properly buckled over a fine green velvet tunic. She grabbed Morgrim’s arm and pulled him into an embrace. The cheers from the city exploded into thunderous applause.
“Oh Gods. Morgrim. Morgrim,” she was saying.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Morgrim patted her shoulder.
She pulled away. “Has it gone?”
“Yes.”
“All right. You’re sure? All right. What now?”
“Nothing. I stay here.”
She glanced at Fenn, shook her head as if to say what are we going to do with him? Fenn shrugged.
Aramella put her hands on her hips. “Morgrim, you can’t—”
“I stay here. We walk up and down the bridge. Let everyone see us. Then you go back to the palace and I go back to the tower. And that’s it.”
“No. Not any longer. I’m not standing for it. I’m not—”
“Mella. Shut up.”
“But you can’t—”
