“You don’t owe me your life, Magnus.” He positioned himself in front of me, taking small steps, using his body to try to prompt me in the direction of the door. I stopped him with my hands flat against his chest. “Just stand in front of me. It won’t take long.”

“She’s eventually going to get around to throwing an entirely too large atlas, and this dinky tray won’t be able to handle that.”

He moved his fingers on my waist for a moment and I raised my eyebrows at him. “What are you doing?”

He looked a bit discouraged, shifting to poking my neck and underarms. “You’re not ticklish? I’m trying to tickle you and loosen you up enough to move you—Ow!” He cradled the hand I’d just slapped to his chest.

I escaped backward, ducking under a book. “If you’re not going to help me then get out of the wa—”

Magnus had dropped the tray and rushed at me, taking hold of my shoulders, forcing me backward—he was bigger, and with his momentum I had no choice but to go along for the ride or else fall flat and vulnerable on my back. If I were in the wild, I’d send my knee into his groin, but this wasn’t desperate enough for that. I didn’t want to hurt him. Still, his method angered me.

“I didn’t ask to be saved!” I tried to break his grip, but he held my upper arms in such a way that they weren’t of much use. “I don’t need to be saved!”

“This isn’t worth getting your face smashed in by a dictionary!”

“Yes, you are!” I gaped at my own words, but I’m not even sure Magnus noticed.

We stumbled through the doorway, and I dropped my silver and pen. I gripped his shirt to balance myself, just as he released me in preparation to catch us against the wall. But, somehow, we were able to trip to a stop before impact. For a moment we just stood there, panting.

And then the sound of a throat clearing dropped my heart into my feet.

When I looked over, Tom was standing in the hall, holding a basket of firewood, grinning like he’d just learned a scandalous secret.

“U-um—” I shoved away from Magnus, wishing I could melt into the wall. “Magnus was, um, protecting me while I worked.” My face burned, and I quickly knelt to gather my things to hide it.

“That so?” Tom said, and I could hear the amusement in his voice.

I examined my pen. No damage, thank God. “You could’ve broken my pen, Magnus,” I said, just to be talking about something—anything—else.

Magnus scoffed, and I noticed he’d turned his back completely on Tom. “You could’ve been concussed by Tolstoy, Andromeda.”