Magic's Minister [COMPLETED]

Chapter Thirty-five

Feyla quickly learned that the only thing more annoying than the unrequited love of a mage deep in denial was the requited love of a mage deeply distracted.

After practically dragging her to get those notes, Sedgewick had insisted they leave Feyla's cozy, well-furnished inn for his bare-bones one, saying that his was harder to find and less conspicuous. She had a room across the hall now but currently, she was sitting on the bed in Sedgewick's. He'd moved the only chair closer to the bed to make himself a makeshift desk. Tyrinn's notes were spread out before him in an order only Sedgewick could understand. His mouth was grim with concentration before softening into that sly smile he had whenever he figured something out. Feyla gazed at him fondly while he once again rearranged the notes.

"So, I'll freely admit that the timing for this conversation is REALLY terrible. I mean, we are pretty much fugitives and I know that we still have to deal with Tyrinn and all but...are we a couple now?"

Sedgewick made some sort of grunt in response and Feyla took that as an encouragement.

"Not that I'm obsessed with labels but..." Feyla bit her cheek and fiddled with a strand of hair. "Actually, yes, I'm pretty obsessed with labels," she finished, looking back over toward Sedgewick.

"Labels..." he muttered. "Yes! Labels, that's it!"

Feyla straightened, waiting for Sedgewick to say that of course they were a couple and hadn't he been silly to take so long to realize that and would she like another kiss?

"He labeled these using the Ancient's Script, not our modern version! That's why this order looked off!" Sedgewick turned to her and grinned like a schoolboy. Feyla returned it with a deadpan glare.

He tilted his head to the side, his disappointingly black hair slipping out from behind his ear. "Are you all right, Feyla? You didn't hurt yourself jumping in the canal, did you?"

The corner of Feyla's eye twitched. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that just because Sedgewick loved her didn't mean that he wasn't still Sedgewick. And the Sedgewick she knew never saved headspace for anything else when he was working with magic. "I'm okay. Have you figured it out yet?"

His ears perked up in that way she'd always found adorable. "Come, let me show you."

Sedgewick stood from the chair and held out a hand. Feyla took it and he pulled her off the bed to stand beside him. Picking up one of the pages, Sedgewick smacked a finger against a line of runes. "Now see this? The handwriting is obviously different from all the rest which means Tyrinn didn't write this page. It's written in the Ancient's Script and describes a spell used as a punishment for rogue mages during the First Age. The problem? It's incomplete." His amber eyes lit up as he grabbed her arm and dragged them both further down the line of papers. "Now if you look at the runes on these—" He picked up more papers. "And these. Tyrinn attempted to finish the spell, but First Age advancements being First Age advancements, he couldn't. So, he resorted to crudely filling in the blanks with black magic."

Feyla gasped in understanding. "That's why he needed Bilara!"

"The snake wanted to keep his hands clean enough to snatch my position once I was out of the way," Sedgewick growled.

"Can you break it now? Have you figured it out?" asked Feyla, gripping his arm.

Sedgewick turned back to her and swallowed as if he'd just realized how close they were. "Well, I know how it works which is a definite improvement. As for breaking it..." Sedgewick went silent, clenching his jaw as his eyes fell.

As Sedgewick stared at the floor, Feyla saw something she'd never expected to see in the self-proclaimed 'Greatest mage in Abreyla'. Doubt. Fear, even. The solution to all his problems lay before him yet after so many failures, the uncertainty of hope seemed to crush him harder than he was crushing the pages in his shaking hands. Sedgewick looked so uncertain, so strangely vulnerable that Feyla felt as if simply by staring, she was intruding on his private thoughts.