A Spell for Heartsickness (The Rune Tithe #1)

by Alistair Reeves

Briar’s hurt curdled into anger. If Celyn feared their conversation would draw attention, he had insulted the wrong man. Briar lived for attention, and he was immune to embarrassment.

“You said I was your honeybee!” He flung the saccharine pet names like missiles. “Your pretty little secret! Your sweet candy peach! And all along you just wanted me for my body?”

Turning on his heel with a swirl of his cloak, Briar delivered the final verse of his punishment over his shoulder. “Goodbye, Celyn. I curse you. May all your socks lose their matching pair.”

He’d heard a necromancer had accidentally raised up all the rats that had ever died there. Given Bellgrave had suffered a bout of plague in the fourteenth century, the place was overrun. Rumor had it they were still exorcising spectral vermin to this day.

Four years of magical training, then they were thrown in the deep end with nary a class on filing taxes.

Rowan met his eyes. He didn’t quite smile, but his mouth tilted as he passed Briar to put the spider where instructed. Then he went back inside, where he caught and gently relocated all the squatters from Briar’s residence one by one.

big man no kill spider 🥺

Vatii said, “Something small wouldn’t hurt.” “You just want me to share.” “It’s your first day, and things haven’t gone well. Just a treat.” Briar chewed his lip. “Oh, twist my arm, why don’t you?”

“Got any recommendations? I’m flirting with the cinnamon buns and the pain au chocolat, but I’d rather flirt with you, so tell me what you’re getting.”

3.Make lots of people happy so they remember me when I x_x

Gruffly, Rowan said, “C’mere to me.”

this would work on me

Thanks so much for feeding me, rescuing me, just generally being a stellar human being. By the way, did you know your dad died in a horrific magical bargain with a forest to create the wards, which protect the town but also murdered every foreigner within its borders? The hell was that about? My poltergeist roommate is figuratively dying to know.

Briar did what any sensible man would and screamed.

Something about Rowan drew him in. A fire to warm his hands by. Or to burn him.

“What was she like? Your mum.” A wistful smile crossed Briar’s face. “Brilliant. She was an empath, so she kind of knew my feelings before I did.” “She sounds like quite the woman.” “She was.” “You miss her?” Briar did. Now they’d made the topic comfortable, he found himself telling Rowan stories about her.

sob

Who’s the lucky lad, lady, or gentlethem for you, then?”

gentlethem is so cute

“Yes, that is a surprise benefit. But please, you didn’t come here just to stroke my ego.” Briar failed to hold his tongue. “I might have come to stroke something.” Linden’s expression slackened with surprise. Vatii shot Briar a look of withering disappointment. Briar visibly cringed with self-reproof.

“How do you like it normally?” Briar struggled for coherence with Rowan’s index finger giving him a different sort of massage. “S-sex?” A chuckle. “What else?” Briar wet his lips, unsure what he meant by the question. “In—the—butt?”

😭

Heartbreak tonics were time consuming and expensive to buy, but he felt responsible for worsening Aisling’s grief. The ring he’d sold her ex-fiancé had been enchanted to heighten emotions post engagement.

😭😭

It was the sort of joyous moment Briar thought only happened to people with richer, luckier lives than his. Rowan’s heart was a hearth, the circle of his arms a home, and Briar felt sick with the longing to stay there forever.

Because he had a destiny that didn’t involve dying, and maybe this—his growing affection for Rowan—had derailed that destiny. Not stress or sleeplessness or flesh tithes but an unbidden love affair, accelerating the rotting curse in his brain.

no you idiot what the hell

He was never meant to fall for Rowan.

you’ve heard of third act breakup but what about 50% breakup 🫩

But kissing Linden felt a little too much like the few times Briar had kissed girls. The knowing how he ought to feel, yet didn’t, was awful.

😭

Rowan took in Linden’s state of dress, their tussled hair, the arm around Briar’s shoulders, and his harried breathing stopped. Briar would tithe anything of his to never again see Rowan look the way he did now. He thought about Rowan’s hands on his cheeks as they shared a kiss in the snow. His laugh. The lit fire between them.

“There’s magic that could heal these scars.” Suddenly self-conscious, Briar crossed his arms and rubbed a hand over the tithes. After hearing Linden speak out against his parents, he’d thought the rebellion of wearing proudly that which others found shameful would appeal to Linden.

😭😭

“I feel like I should tell you not to go, but I know you won’t listen, so I’ll only say this… I’m quite proud to be the familiar of someone so willing to dive in to help those he loves.”

“Do you love him?” It was as much a question as a dare. And what could Briar say in answer? No, but I can’t see a way to save us that doesn’t involve tying myself to this man I thought I could love but who, now, in this moment, I loathe more than words can say. No, I love you too, but there’s no future for us that doesn’t end in death.

throwing myself off a cliff

Briar prickled at the mention of servants. Linden’s home was so large it needed an HR department.

“Linden… are you only asking me to marry you so you’ll be Coill Darraghn? So you can kill the forest?” Linden turned. The softness in his voice had gone. “Are you here because you love me or because I have the cure?”

Briar knew, coming into this, that his chances were small, but he’d also known what Linden feared most. The ever-turning tide of public opinion. Humiliation. And lucky for Briar, he himself was immune to embarrassment.

Niamh knelt in front of him with a humbling amount of grace for her age. She held a piece of charcoal. “Fortitude,” she said, and drew a symbol on her arm. She clasped Briar’s hand, and the sharp pains turning his vision white shrank away.

😭😭😭

“The first witches knew this. Feared and respected us. They took tithes, and when they died, conveyed their bodies unto the loam for us to feast. Now, you bury your dead in concrete and coffins, tombs and sarcophagi. Witches take their tithes and give nothing back. We grow hungry, but not in Coill Darragh, where our Keeper kept the old ways and the people have roots. Éibhear.”

“Just like that?” There was barely any space between them for Briar to speak. “You can forgive me just like that? I thought you’d be angry.” “I’m feckin’ fuming.” One of Rowan’s big hands carded through Briar’s hair, and his brown eyes were anything but furious. “I’ll give out to you something fierce later.”

“I’m not the best with words, but I’ll say this. No hurt you caused is one I’ll hold on to. I was more scared of losing you than getting my heart broke.” He regarded the steaming mug on the coffee table. “I’d not waste a stolen minute I have with you ruminating.”

crying

Rowan looked at him now with unrestrained joy, better than that look from the tent. He wiped hastily at his eyes with the back of a hand, and Briar couldn’t stand the long, slow walk down the aisle anymore. He picked up his train and ran.

It wasn’t very traditional, leaping into his groom’s arms and kissing him while the priest threw up his hands in exasperation, but Briar wore a dress so he obviously didn’t care much for traditions when they didn’t suit him.