Chapter 17:

The air inside the tavern was warm and smelled faintly of wood smoke, a stark contrast to the chill that clung to us outside. Alohi flopped into one of the chairs by the hearth, letting out a dramatic sigh as she dropped her bag onto the floor.

"Cynfael," she said dreamily, resting her chin on her hands. "Did you see him? He's like... if perfection were a person. I think I'm in love."

I raised an eyebrow, hanging my cloak on the nearest hook. "You've mentioned that about five times since we left the castle."

"Because it's true!" Alohi exclaimed, sitting up straight. "Do you realize how rare it is to meet someone who is devastatingly handsome and royalty? Honestly, Sage, I'd let him—"

"Don't," I interrupted, holding up a hand. "I don't think I can handle another one of your... imaginative scenarios right now."

She grinned wickedly, completely ignoring my plea. "I'd let him steal my heart and my family's entire fortune. I'd let him—"

"Alohi!" I groaned, flopping into a chair across from her. "Can we please focus on something that doesn't involve Cynfael for five minutes?"

She leaned back, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger with a smirk. "Fine. But you're just jealous I found the future love of my life while you're busy chasing magical flowers and ancient secrets."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the sound of the tavern door creaking open cut me off. Xenos stepped inside, his imposing figure framed by the faint glow of the setting sun. In his hands was a bouquet of Brugmansia flowers, their pale, trumpet-shaped blooms almost glowing in the dim light.

"Got them," he said shortly, brushing off some stray dirt as he set the bouquet down on the table.

Alohi leaned forward, inspecting the flowers with exaggerated curiosity. "Wow, Xenos. I didn't know you were the romantic type. Bringing Sage flowers? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to woo her."

Xenos shot her a sharp look, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and exhaustion. "I'm not in the mood for your jokes, Alohi."

She smirked, undeterred. "Relax, I'm just saying. If you were going to bring a bouquet, at least pick something a little more original than demon-banishing flowers."

Despite the gravity of the situation, I couldn't help but stifle a laugh. Xenos gave me a withering glare but said nothing, turning his attention to the flowers instead.

"Let's just get this over with," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "We don't have time to waste."

Alohi winked at me. "See? He's all business now. But mark my words, Sage, one day someone is going to melt that icy heart of his."

I rolled my eyes but smiled, grateful for her humor despite the weight of what lay ahead.

I turned to Xenos, eyeing his arm. The memory of the blue frost creeping up his skin earlier still lingered in my mind.

"How's your arm?" I asked, my voice softer than usual.

Xenos glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "It's fine."

"Fine as in actually fine, or fine as in 'I'm pretending it's fine because I don't want to talk about it'?"

He scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. "I said it's fine, Sage. I've already healed it."

I stepped closer, refusing to back down. "Maybe you should heal it again, just to be sure."

"I don't need to heal it again," he replied tersely. "I know how to take care of myself."

I let out a frustrated sigh, gesturing toward his arm. "Xenos, this isn't about your pride. What if the curse is stronger than you think? What if—"

"What if you stop worrying about things that aren't your responsibility?" he shot back, his voice rising slightly.

"Excuse me for not wanting you to drop dead in the middle of all this!" I snapped, crossing my arms.

"You're being dramatic," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"And you're being stubborn!"

The argument grew louder, our words bouncing off the walls of the tavern. Alohi, sitting nearby, seemed thoroughly entertained, though she didn't interject for once.

"Will you just—"

"I said—"

"Enough!" Aurora's high-pitched voice cut through the room like a knife. The small creature fluttered between us, her tiny face scrunched up in exasperation. "Are you two serious right now? This is not the time to argue like an old married couple!"

I blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness. "We're not—"

"You are!" Aurora interrupted, glaring at both of us. "Sage, you need to focus on connecting with Smokey. And Xenos, stop being so... so Xenos! There are bigger things at stake here."

Xenos and I exchanged a glance, the tension between us ebbing slightly in the face of Aurora's scolding.

"She's right," I muttered, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "We don't have time for this."

Xenos let out a deep sigh, his expression softening just a fraction. "Fine. Let's just get on with it."

Aurora landed on my shoulder, her tiny claws lightly gripping the fabric of my shirt. "Good. Now, Sage, focus. The Brugmansia won't stay fresh forever."

Taking a deep breath, I nodded and turned my attention to the bouquet of flowers on the table. This was it—the moment I would try to reach out to my grandfather, the god Smokey, and uncover the truth hidden in the shadows.

I leaned down and inhaled deeply from the Brugmansia bouquet, expecting... something. A jolt of energy, a wave of dizziness, a pull into some ethereal plane—anything.

But there was nothing.

I straightened up, blinking a few times. "Well, that's anticlimactic."

Xenos crossed his arms, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "Try again."

I huffed and bent down, sniffing again, deeper this time. Still, the same result: nothing.

Alohi tilted her head, frowning. "Maybe you're doing it wrong?"

I scoffed. "How does someone sniff a flower wrong?" I stood upright, frustration bubbling in my chest. "Or maybe Cynfael played us. I mean, it's not like we can just trust him. He might've sent us on a wild goose chase."

For once, Alohi didn't laugh, didn't make a joke. Her face turned uncharacteristically serious as she shook her head. "No. Cynfael didn't play us."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because he wouldn't," she replied firmly, her gaze steady. "He wants you to succeed, Sage. You just have to give it time."

I hesitated, taken aback by her rare moment of sincerity. "So, what do we do?"

Alohi glanced at the bouquet, then at me. "Take one of the flowers to your room. Hang it above your head. Maybe it needs time to work its magic."

I considered her suggestion, glancing at Xenos for confirmation, but he just shrugged, his expression unreadable.

"Fine," I said, carefully plucking a single Brugmansia flower from the bouquet. "I'll try it."

Alohi's usual playful grin returned, though her eyes still held a hint of seriousness. "Goodnight, Sage. Sweet dreams. You know, if Smokey shows up, tell him I say hi."

I rolled my eyes, offering a small smile despite myself. "Goodnight, Alohi. Xenos."

Xenos gave me a curt nod, while Alohi waved me off dramatically. I carried the flower up the stairs to my room, its delicate petals brushing against my fingers.

Once inside, I closed the door behind me and carefully tied the flower's stem to a small hook above my bed. Its pale, ghostly glow seemed almost alive in the dim light of the room.

Aurora fluttered over to me, landing lightly on my shoulder. "Do you really think this will work?" I asked her quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

The little creature tilted her head, her tiny golden eyes meeting mine. "I think it will," she said, her voice filled with a quiet confidence. "Sometimes, magic needs a little patience. And so do you."

I chuckled softly, brushing a hand through my hair. "You always know how to make me feel better."

Aurora puffed up her chest proudly. "It's my job, isn't it? Besides, even if it doesn't work right away, we'll figure it out. You're not alone in this, Sage."

Her words settled the restless knot in my chest. I smiled, reaching up to stroke her soft feathers. "Thanks, Aurora. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Sage," she replied, nestling against my shoulder for a moment before flying up to perch on the headboard.

I lay back on the bed, staring up at the flower swaying gently above me. Somewhere deep inside, hope flickered like a fragile flame.