A Touch of Death

Chapter 18

Aoife and Tarran returned to the manor the very next day.

She was thankful he'd opted to skip the last day of the proceedings, partly because they were able to slip off quietly. No one bothered them as they loaded their trunks and the carriage rattled away towards home.

At the time, Aoife wondered when she'd begun to think of the manor as home, but the truth was that it wasn't the estate. It was Tarran. Tarran was her home, and every passing second increased the risk that she could lose him.

To break the spell, someone you have harmed, someone who owes you a debt, and someone who loves you must exchange their life for yours of their own free will. Death for life. Balance restored.

Aoife had memorized the conditions for breaking the curse. In the three days since their return, she'd slowly poured over it countless times, wondering if there was any kind of loophole. the wording was simple enough that she thought there should be one, but the problem was that it wouldn't be an easy one to execute.

A list of painstakingly scrawled and then angrily scratched out ideas sat beside her, the parchment smudged from tears and writing and sheer frustration. There was only one that hadn't been crossed out, and she wasn't certain it would be possible to find anyone who filled the conditions.

Tarran wouldn't want to kill anyone. He'd been working this long to avoid having to kill anyone in an effort to break the curse, not to mention that the sacrifice had to be of their own free will. That was the trick, in the end, but Aoife thought she might have found a way around it.

With her magic, it was technically possible to trade life forces between two people. Technically. She'd never tried it, and Aoife was admittedly uncertain that it was possible without using herself as a conduit, but it was worth a shot if they could find three people to fulfill the conditions. All she had to do was coax a little of Tarran's life force into someone else and a little of theirs into Tarran, assuming they freely agreed to the process and fit the conditions...

Aoife screamed in frustration, the sound echoing around the library. Stubborn she might be, but it felt like every ounce of her willpower had gone into finding ways out of this, and it was almost enough to snap her resolve.

Tears pricking at her eyes, she rested her head on the desk in front of her and just tried to breathe. She couldn't break down. There wasn't time. Maybe... maybe if she talked to Tarran, if she brought Camilla into the equation. Then they would only need one more person. Maybe they could somehow split the three conditions between themselves.

Slow, deliberate footsteps sounded in the corridor outside the open library doors. A sharp burst of shame settled in her chest as she realized he'd undoubtedly heard her frustrated outburst, but she was too exhausted to move as the footsteps drew closer.

By the time a warm hand came to rest on her back, Aoife's mind was blank. The frustration and exhaustion and fear crept into her bones, and she couldn't find a way to shake it.

"It's time for bed, Aoife," Tarran said gently.

"I can't sleep. Too much to do."

"You know, I never thought that was the habit you'd pick up from me," he sighed. "Come on. Let's go."

With a soft huff, Aoife stood from her chair, put out the lamp, and walked after Tarran towards his room. She was tired, and he knew it. As much as she wanted to keep going, she'd wind up falling asleep at the desk at this rate... just like Tarran had so many times.

Maybe he really was rubbing off on her more than she knew. That was fine, though. It had been a long, long time since she was close enough to anyone to pick up their habits.