She stared at him; she didn’t want to think about the Night of Fire and Wind. She wanted it to go away. He’d lured her into his den with his pretenses, and now she was the captive of his stares and touch. Vhalla closed her eyes and took a breath.

“Every night, I see them. I hear their screams and I feel their blood on my hands, on my face.” She shuddered as her voice broke and pulled her hand away from his to wrap her arms around herself. “At first I didn’t know what they were, but that night, in the forest, I remembered.” It seemed silly to her, to say she’d forgotten the first time she’d killed a person but her mind had been so efficient at pushing it away.

“I wish I could be better comfort to you,” he murmured softly. Aldrik leaned over and, with only his fingertips, he pushed aside some stray hair. They both seemed to catch their breath as his skin lightly brushed her face. He pulled away, his hand balling into a fist.

“You are,” she said quickly, earning herself a surprised stare.

“I am?” he repeated skeptically.

“I—” Vhalla stumbled over her words. “I am ... happier ... with you, near you.” Something about him softened, but there was a sadness to it that made Vhalla feel guilty for her confession.

“In any case.” He was back to avoiding her attentions. “My ear and my door are always open for you.”

“Thank you.” Vhalla wondered how many people he had offered that to. She couldn’t imagine it was many.

“For now though, we should make sure you know how to Channel.” Aldrik seemed as uncomfortable as she was and the moment—whatever it had been—vanished.

They set to work on what Vhalla discovered was the seemingly impossible task of Channeling. Vhalla saw shades of the phantom she had exchanged notes with months ago as he spoke volumes of knowledge worth of magical theory with deft ease. His silver tongue licked across her intellect, wetting her mental palate for new information.

But the willingness to learn and the practical execution were also much like he had told her months ago—it was harder to do than conceive. At her every attempt Aldrik instructed that she “only needed to find the magic within her” or “tap into her power.” But Vhalla felt like she was shooting for an unknown target in the dark.

By the time he fetched food, she found herself exhausted. Their conversation turned casual and Vhalla relaxed, absentmindedly consuming the meal before her. He made her sides split with laughter by telling her a story of when he taught his younger brother to ride a horse for the first time. Vhalla shared the first time she’d gone to help in the field but had ended up just playing in the mud for most of the day. He seemed to find it as shocking as he did amusing. For that brief hour the horrors she had seen, she had committed, didn’t matter.

Reality could not be escaped for long. The moment the food was finished, they returned to Channeling.

“I think it may be pointless,” Vhalla sighed, dropping her arms. She’d been waving them about like a fool trying to find the “essence of air.”

“There is one more thing that we could try, since you do not have the luxury of time,” Aldrik said thoughtfully after a long silence. “But it is not a conventional method. It is rather theoretical, actually.”

“Oh?” He knew what to say to make her insatiably curious.

“It is more on Bonding than Channeling.” He leaned forward. “Did you have a chance to read anything on Bonds before you left the Tower?”

“I couldn’t find much,” she replied.

“That is because there is not much,” Aldrik affirmed. “Bonding is a strange occurrence and difficult to understand because, to the best of every scholar’s assessments, it is the literal opening of a magic passage between two people. You opened your magic to me to save my life.”

Those words soaked into both of them for a moment.

“But, as they say, doors and gates open both ways,” Aldrik finished, easing that odd tension they flirted with every time they were together.

“Wait.” Vhalla blinked. “You’re saying I have some of your magic in me?”

“Not just some; it has the capacity to be a passage between us,” he affirmed.

“That’s amazing,” she whispered.

“That is why I do not think your magic is as effective against me as it is on others. It will not hit me as strong. Our own magic cannot hurt us.” He shook his head. “There are a number of interesting theories we could discuss and explore another time. For now, we are going to try Joining.”

“What is Joining?” she asked, braving a parrot comment.

“It is difficult to explain. Think of the Bond as a latent Channel. Joining will activate it, widen the Bond.” Aldrik leaned closer, and Vhalla’s heart beat hard. “This may not even work. But for it to have a chance—do not fight me.”

If Vhalla had wanted to, she couldn’t have. She was so stunned by his forward advances, by the fingers that lightly touched her temples, that she could barely speak. Aldrik’s eyes fluttered closed and he took a breath. She bit her lip, unsure if she was supposed to do the same. But if she didn’t, she would spend the time studying his sculpted features in the firelight—and she might die of embarrassment if caught.

So Vhalla closed her eyes as well.

At first, there was nothing. She heard her breathing and felt his hands on her. His fingertips warmed and then, faintly, she heard her heartbeat. No, she realized, it wasn’t her heartbeat, it was his. Her initial reaction was to panic at the sensation of another heart beating in her chest, but Vhalla forced herself to stay still and calm. Soon the chorus of sound extended to his breathing, overlaid on the noises of her own body. The din reached a crescendo that threatened to consume her awareness. But Vhalla remembered his words and she gave into it, into him, letting the wave crash upon her.

There was one inhale, one exhale, one heartbeat between them.

She melted into the strange warmth of the communal existence, relinquishing the last of her physical senses. It was unlike anything she had ever felt. Like life and death all bundled neatly into one moment of beauty. She tried to find where her own self ended, to find where he began, but there were no ends or beginnings anywhere. They were infinite.

She felt as he felt, and he thought as she thought.

Suddenly there was a warm breeze blowing over her metaphysical self. It was strong. Something she had known from birth, known her whole life, without ever really having words for it before. As Aldrik opened his Channel, hers opened alongside it in all its brilliance.

She felt him pulling away from her and, in her mind, she objected. There was a safety there, a reassurance, a compassion, and more she dared not give words to. It was a gentle departure, but a departure all the same. Vhalla sighed faintly as her eyes fluttered open. Aldrik stared back. His chest expanded slowly with every deep breath.

For a long time they sat unmoving. Her body felt the same, but everything had changed. His hands slowly fell away from her face, and the last connection was through their gaze.

“Vhalla, I ...” he uttered over a thick tongue.

Some madness overwhelmed her, and she grabbed for his hands. “Aldrik,” she breathed, clutching at him desperately. Vhalla searched for some validation of what she had found in their brief period of shared existence.