CHAPTER ELEVEN
The amber light of late afternoon flooded into the empty main room of The Rook.
After hours of drinking ale and telling jokes, Rafferty stood behind the counter, juggling four wine glasses as Evylin finally got Ethenn to admit to his new relationship with Ilain.
When he explained the unique tradition of a Waulden betrothal, they all gaped at him in shock.
“You’re married to her?” Thom asked.
“On a trial basis,” Ethenn confirmed.
“Wow,” Rafferty said, having caught the wine glasses with expert precision. “Does that mean you can boff her on a trial basis?”
All three of his companions sent him a scathing look.
“Just asking,” Rafferty said, then returned to his juggling.
Though Evylin didn’t approve of the lascivious manner in which the question was asked, she couldn’t deny her own curiosity. Knowing of Wauld’s more open culture and scandalous fashion, she leaned closer to Ethenn. “Does it?” she whispered.
“No,” he said immediately. Then he blushed. “Sort of—I mean, no, but we can . . . you know. If we decide to finalize it, I mean.”
“Curious,” Thom muttered, then emptied his ale. “Well, congratulations, Loxley. She’s a wonderful woman, and you’ll be happy, I’m sure.”
Ethenn eyed him warily. “Thanks.”
Sitting between them, Evylin wondered at their newly patched-up friendship. Thom was working to right his wrongs, but she didn’t know if that included informing Ethenn of Ilain’s true feelings. She thought it must since Ethenn and Ilain were engaged—or rather, wedded on a probationary basis.
What a confusing tradition.
“So,” Rafferty said, eyes on his wine glasses, “Eve and Ethenn are about to be two Bonded Warriors while you and I remain ever ordinary, Thommy. How do you like that?”
“Can’t say I care for it much,” Thom replied good-naturedly.
Rafferty caught the glasses again, setting them on the counter one at a time. “How do you think it works?”
“Not liking something?” Evylin asked.
Rafferty smirked. “Bonding,” he said, then pointed at her nose. “You’re about, oh—four hours away from it, tops. What d’ya think it’ll be like?”
“Bonding? Or the ceremony?”
“Both.”
Evylin shrugged. “I truly don’t know,” she admitted, her previous worries resurfacing.
She really should have gotten more information before agreeing to go through with it.
“But I’m sure it’ll be good. I believe Ilain knows quite a lot about it, and she wouldn’t recommend it if it were going to be unpleasant or problematic. ”
“Mm.” Rafferty tapped the rim of a glass. “I hope it isn’t too boring. I hate tedious ceremonies.”
While Evylin, Thom, and Ethenn laughed at their friend, a door opened in the back.
They turned as the storeroom door swung wide.
Lieutenant Lohen stood there, her petite, athletic frame appearing from the shadows.
She wore an ivory blouse under a dark brown vest that matched her skirt, giving her outfit a masculine edge.
She’d coiled her braided black hair into a low bun, and dainty gemstones dangled from her ears, catching the light.
“I thought we’d find you here,” she said, then stepped aside. “After you, Deckard.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Deckard said. Evylin’s heart pattered happily at seeing her husband stride into the room.
Vayden appeared next, tapping Deckard’s arm. “Call her Brea,” he instructed. “Unlike Fishere, we don’t do formalities.”
The rest of their team entered the room. Vayden led Isla to a table, and they settled into the long booth against the wall. Brea took a seat across from them, positioning herself to face the others. Auden sat next to Vayden, while Ilain headed directly to Ethenn at the bar.
“Hello, husband,” Ilain said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
Ethenn pressed his lips together and murmured, “Ilain,” by way of greeting.
She grabbed his arm, tugging him toward the tables with her, leaving behind Thom and Rafferty, who sniggered like fools.
But Evylin was only interested in the charming smile Deckard turned her way. He stepped to her side, dipping his head for a quick kiss.
“Hello again,” Evylin whispered as he pulled back.
Deckard’s smile grew, though she saw something like hesitation in his eyes. The worry struck her that it had something to do with his meeting with Obel. “Hello,” he replied. “I hope your morning wasn’t as . . . dramatic as mine.”
“Lucky you,” Evylin teased. “My morning was as dull as can be.”
“Not for lack of trying,” Rafferty interjected, then motioned to the others gathering around the room. “Are we having a party?”
“Not exactly,” Deckard replied. “We’re discussing our mission.”
“In that case,” Rafferty flipped two glasses in the air, “I’d better get us drinks.”
Deckard gave him a disapproving look. “It’s half past two.”
Rafferty raised his brow. “But Colonel, they’ve got wine.”
After opening his mouth in rebuttal, Deckard paused. “What kind of wine?”
“It’s a Schonese rojal,” Brea said, reclining leisurely in her chair. “Smooth but acidic. It’s from my cousin’s vineyard in Nemos.”
“Your cousin lives in Schon?” Thom asked, brow raised.
“I grew up in Schon,” she replied.
“It’s why she’s the only one who gets Isla’s jokes,” Vayden said.
“You always said you liked my jokes,” Isla said.
Vayden smirked suggestively at his wife. “I love your jokes.”
She patted his knee as Rafferty said, “I’m still waiting to hear if the colonel wants some wine.”
Deckard pursed his lips, tapped the bar, and sighed. “Give me a glass,” he said.
“Atta boy!” Rafferty rubbed his hands together, then went to work. “Anyone else care to put in an order? It’s on the house.”
“It’s not, though,” Auden objected.
“I’ll take a glass,” Ilain said, seated next to her brother on the leather bench across from Ethenn.
While others put in their requests and Rafferty gathered their drinks, Deckard began the meeting.
“As we have some important decisions to make and a limited amount of time in which to make them,” he said, “I think we should get started. However, there are a couple of announcements to be given first.”
“Announcements?” Thom asked, still seated on Evylin’s other side.
Deckard nodded, thanking Rafferty when he handed him a wine glass. “Yes, perhaps some of you know by now, but congratulations are in order, as Ethenn and Ilain were betrothed this morning.”
A chorus of “congratulations” rang out amongst the group.
“Betrothed, eh?” Brea said, propping her boots on the chair next to her. She eyed Ethenn slyly. “Good luck, kid. She’s gonna burn you alive.”
While Ethenn sucked in a perturbed breath, Ilain sent Brea a fiery glare. “Flames only burn those who mishandle them,” she retorted.
“As I was saying,” Deckard said, redirecting the conversation. “We are, of course, happy for Ethenn and Ilain and wish them all the best.”
“Does this mean you’re Bonding tonight too?” Rafferty asked, delivering Ilain’s glass to her.
“No,” she replied. “We’ll wait until after the establishment of Allund.”
“Why not?” Thom asked. “Wouldn’t it be better for us to have two Bonded couples?”
Ilain took a sip of her wine, glancing at Ethenn before explaining. “While yes, it would give us more strength, the Alliance wants to ensure that should one of us die on our mission, the other will still be eligible for remarriage and Bonding to aid the governmental regime.”
“Huh.” Rafferty hopped up on the counter, turning back to Deckard. “What was the other announcement?”
Deckard opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He tried again. “Well, it appears . . .” He hesitated. “I met with Lord Obel this morning, and he informed me of not only how to release Hewitt’s ghost but also that . . . I am not a Night Mage.”
Silence met his statement.
Evylin looked up at him, not understanding.
“Jarrad was right, then?” Isla asked, then sighed. “He’ll never shut up about it.”
Brea snorted.
“What kind of Mage are you?” Ilain asked.
Deckard shuffled his feet, shifting away from Evylin. “It seems,” he said cautiously, “that I’m a Space Mage.”
“Mal’iferno,” Brea cursed, mouth dropping ajar.
Thom’s gaze shifted from her to Deckard and back. “Is that a good thing?” he asked, sounding as confused as Evylin felt.
“It’s not a bad thing,” Brea replied.
Deckard didn’t voice his opinion, making Evylin regard him warily.
“It’s a good thing,” Auden said. “The powers carry with them volatile but also beneficial potential.”
“How did we miss that you’re a Space Mage?” Ilain asked, baffled. “We should have caught it right away.”
“We weren’t exactly looking for it,” Auden replied. “And Obel confirmed that Night is his secondary resource. Beyond that, we were under duress when he accessed his powers most prominently. It’s an easy thing to miss.” He frowned, then added, “Particularly for me.”
Though Evylin wasn’t sure what he meant by that, she focused on Deckard.
She wanted to ask how he felt about this monumental revelation and to hear what Obel had indicated it truly meant for him.
But as she didn’t want to put him on the spot, instead, she said, “I don’t see how it changes much moving forward.
You’re still a Mage, and if anything, you’re safer from the Deep than we anticipated, right? ”
Deckard tipped his head to the side. “Yes, but this is . . .”
When it appeared that he wouldn’t be finishing his statement, Vayden did it for him. “Unprecedented.”
“Space is the most powerful resource,” Isla clarified.
“Few amongst us know much about it because of how rare Space Mages are. There are hardly any texts teaching how to employ the magic due to their rarity throughout the centuries. And even though some Night Mages find Space easier to connect with than others, even they struggle to control it. For it to be discovered that Colonel Deckard is one . . . well, we don’t even fully know yet what this means for our mission.
” The hushed tone of her voice conveyed a sense of awe.
“And you’re about to be a Bonded Space Mage,” Brea said, resting her arm over the back of her chair. “Which means the chaos is just beginning. This ought to be fun.”