She didn’t know. But if there was, she would do her best to find it. Or create it. Because if anything should ever happen to him? Well. Living without Morgan would not be living at all.

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-six

An hour later, Morgan considered his dwindling supply of catalysts, and frowned.

“I think we must soon send Rumm off with a fat purse and a long list.”

“How soon?” said Barl, as she scribbled notations at the attic workbench. “And for how long? He must have time to bake us a pie before he goes, and he can’t stay away more than one night, else between us we’ll either burn down the mansion trying to cook dinner… or starve.”

If that weren’t true, it might be amusing. Perhaps he’d acted a trifle hastily in dismissing all the servants. Of course, solitude and privacy were paramount so his mageworking with Barl might continue uninterrupted, but timely, edible meals were also important. He might have to consider bringing back the cook.

Barl set aside her quill and joined him to stare at the dozens of emptied and nearly emptied jars and bottles on the workroom’s shelves.

“How difficult will it be to replace what’s been used?”

He frowned again. “Difficult enough. Though most of these catalysts aren’t restricted, we have run out of so many that if we’re not roundabout there may well be awkward questions asked. And I have no desire to rouse Sallis Arkley’s curiosity. Not when the Council seems to have forgotten our existence.”

“Then it’s best Rumm makes his purchases from more than one supplier,” she said. “He must become a busy little bee, dipping for nectar from a variety of blossoms. That way nothing he does will be remarkable—or remarked upon.”

And that was only one reason to love her. She had a quicksilver mind that was forever in tune with his.

“Morgan.” She touched her fingertips to the back of his neck, making him shiver. “Speaking of the Council… it’s a week since your father died. Ranmer has held his tongue so far, but we can’t trust he’ll not let slip the truth. Or if Lord Varen asks him directly how your father does, of course he’ll answer.”

And if that happened, they’d have Varen and the others on their doorstep, overflowing with spurious sympathy and likely demanding his return to the Hall. He was surprised he’d not already had to fend off Venette. So much for her claims of affection and concern.

Barl slipped her arm through his. “What are you going to do? If the Council recalls you to duty, will you go?”

“I won’t have a choice,” he said, resentful. “But never fret, my love. Our magework will continue. Not even Brice Varen can be allowed to interfere with that.”