“You will. Just not yet.” He gazes past me, along my intended path into the woods. “Heading to the arena?”

No use in hiding it. I nod.

His expression turns doubtful. Sneaking out is one secret; going to the arena alone is another. “It’s already late, and the memorial is in the morning….”

“I know.” I chew on my lip. I hadn’t forgotten the memorial. How could I? The Order’s formal ceremony for Russ, Whitty, Fitz, and Evan will be the first funeral I’ve attended since my mother’s. “I won’t be out long. Promise.”

“Bree…”

I pout harder. “Please.”

With a sigh and an amused eye roll, he relents. “Okay.” Then, to my surprise, he steps to my side. “But if you’re going, I’ll join you.”

I blink. “You will?”

He shrugs. “Lead the way.”

We both know the path through the woods well enough that we can walk it even without my flashlight. If Sel were here, he could light the walk with a palm full of aether.

But if Sel were here, he’d be dragging me back into the house, even though his wards form a triple-layered perimeter around the Lodge now. The one at the window was just the first.

When we press through the second ward, William notices my reaction to it. My wrinkled nose and watering eyes. “That Bloodcraft ability of yours is fascinating.”

“Smelling aether?” The only Bloodcraft power readily available to me all the time is the passive ability to sense magic: Sight that allows me to see aether, touch that allows me to feel it. A nose that tells me that someone has used it in a casting.

“Not just scenting aether. The Legendborn can tell when there’s aether around and if it’s been weaponized, but you can discern between individual casters, their moods….” He shakes his head in wonder.

Vera’s Bloodcraft spell was designed, first and foremost, to help her descendants sense nearby aether users who might hunt us—Merlins, in particular.

“I’m curious.” He points back at the ward we passed. “What did you pick up just then?”

I take another breath. “It burns a bit, so Sel was angry when he cast it.”

He chuckles. Pauses. Turns my response over in his analytical, medical mind. “You sound congested. Are you allergic?”

I consider it. “No. More like… when someone walks by with really strong cologne.”

William ducks beneath a branch. “Sel does leave an impression.”

I groan. “Even when he’s not around! The wards, the Legendborn bodyguards, the demands. It’s suffocating.”

William laughs then, gray eyes sparkling.

“What?” I ask.

He smiles softly. “You sound like Nicholas.”