CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Evylin was right. It didn’t matter that they were late, and Rafferty wasn’t even present to notice.
In fact, only Thom, Brea, and Auden were on time.
His brother and the Warrior were seated by the fireplace playing a seemingly rousing game of chess while they baited one another with clever quips.
Auden spoke with the clerk, Maurus, at the desk.
After exchanging their greetings, Deckard set a hand on Thom’s shoulder. “I’m going to need the Relic back,” he said quietly.
Before the Bonding ceremony, Auden suggested Deckard give the Night Relic to Thom, warning that it could impede the magic needed to solidify the Bond.
Not wanting to risk something so important, Deckard hadn’t hesitated, knowing his brother would be with them should danger arise.
And though Deckard didn’t feel the same oppressive weight of the Relic’s pull as he’d come to learn any other magical individual would, after wearing it for so long, he was beginning to feel its effects on his emotions.
Subtle as it might have been, there was an immediate sense of lightening when he removed it, as though he’d been wearing a heavy cloak over his heart and hadn’t even been aware of it.
He was grateful for the chance of a break from the pressure, even for one night.
But now, it was time to assume the responsibility for it once again.
Readily, Thom tugged open the top buttons of his coat. “I must say, I’m happy to get rid of it,” he said, lifting it over his head. “I don’t know how you wear this thing all the time. It’s a bloody nuisance. I could hardly sleep with it around my neck. Felt like it was choking me.”
Across the small chess table, Brea propped her chin on her hand. “Tell me more about how you sleep, mi’caro,” she teased.
“Perhaps another time,” Thom returned casually.
Brea slid a wooden figure forward on the checkered board. “Checkmate.”
Thom toppled his king. “And you said you’d win in four moves.”
“Seven is acceptable,” she returned. “I had to adjust to your chaotic strategy.”
“Joke’s on you.” Thom stood and straightened his collar. “I had no strategy.”
Watching their exchange with a level of bemusement, Deckard ensured the Night Relic was well hidden under his clothes.
Evylin began asking about the game, never having played chess, as Ethenn and Ilain appeared together.
The couple split off; Ilain greeted her brother at the desk while Ethenn joined their group, carrying both his and her saddlebags.
Shortly after, Vayden and Isla joined them, having already said their farewells to their daughter in private.
Rafferty was the last to make his appearance, yawning and grumbling about their early departure.
Once fully assembled, they went through the back courtyard to the stables, where Coalum had their horses waiting and ready.
They loaded up and mounted. Then Deckard covered Auden, Ilain, and Evylin in a shroud, taking extra care to place it more securely around them based on the training he’d received from Lord Obel.
After offering tips on improving his connection to Night, making his work less “sloppy,” Obel gave Deckard three books on Space magic and one thin volume on the particulars of ghosts and related issues regarding Night magic.
While the reading didn’t excite Deckard, he was pleased to know there was a hope of mastering his powers.
With no further ado, they made their way out of Mouroc, leaving behind the city.
Deckard had almost anticipated a send-off from the Alliance but realized that any grand affairs might attract unwanted attention.
They were in the capital city of Wauld after all.
He felt a twinge of guilt at not properly expressing his thanks to Emmaas, Jarrad, and all the Mages who’d assisted in their Bonding ceremony last night.
But then he thought that the success of their mission might be gratitude enough.
The overcast Waulden sky lent a gray haze to the city’s crowded streets.
Merchants prepared their wares while men, women, and children ambled or hurried through the cobbled and dirt pathways.
After nearly an hour of working their way through the gates and sectors of Mouroc, they finally made it free of the city walls, exchanging its buzzing hubbub for the silence of the road.
After a mile of travel, they slowed their pace, and Deckard released the shroud.
They adjusted their ranks, Deckard and Auden taking the front to guide their journey east. It was odd seeing three additional members amongst their ranks.
Some of the troop remained quiet during the early morning, the cold nip of rain on the wind.
They’d all drawn their hoods up, obscuring their faces from the view of oncoming riders.
While only Deckard, Rafferty, and Ilain were much for morning conversation in the past, it seemed that Brea and Vayden shared their chipper mood.
The pair rode together, talking comfortably while Isla slumped in her saddle, evidently still shaking off the night’s sleep.
The split in moods didn’t do much to divide the group, however.
Just behind Deckard and Auden, Evylin and Thom rode—infrequently exchanging quiet words—followed by Brea and Vayden, then Ilain, Isla, Ethenn, and Rafferty.
But as the hours passed, spirits lifted, and conversation became far steadier amongst the whole of the troop.
His demeanor more wakeful, Auden turned to Deckard as they rode.
As they’d only shared conversation to determine their direction up until that point, Deckard expected the highlord to offer some advice or suggestion for their continuation on the road.
However, the Mage surprised him by saying, “I wanted to offer an apology to you, Jonn.”
Startled, Deckard’s head whipped over to see Auden’s serious green stare under the shadow of his hood. “A twofold apology,” the highlord continued. “First, on behalf of my sister for last night’s . . . misunderstanding.”
Though he bristled at the memory, Deckard dipped his chin in acknowledgment.
“Ilain’s impetuosity has gotten her into trouble more times than I can count,” Auden said with a good-humored lilt that didn’t quite ease his nervous expression. “After forty-three years, you’d think she’d have learned to hold her tongue, but Fire has its way of relaxing one’s sense of subtlety.”
“If you’re concerned that her presumptions will alter our dedication to this mission, you needn’t be,” Deckard promised. “While neither Evylin nor I care to become monarchs, we consider this present duty to be ours just as much as you do.”
Auden paused before speaking again with a careful inflection.
“You would not be monarchs, but that’s beside the point.
As Archminister Fishere said, while those of us in the Alliance would greatly appreciate your consideration of the offices of chancellor and commander, it is not required of you.
Ilain is just under the assumption that anyone would want the honor of the position. ”
Though Deckard was ready to accept the apology, Auden cleared his throat, stalling his reply. “Additionally,” the Mage added, “it brings a worry to my mind that I feel I must address with you.”
Caught further off guard, Deckard listened as the man turned toward the road with a lowered chin.
The drizzle of raindrops collected on his wool hood before slowly beginning their descent down to his back.
“Several weeks back, I coerced you into an unjust promise in exchange for Evylin’s accompanying me on our trip into Dunneshead,” he admitted.
“Frankly, I was annoyed that you were averse to my teaching and that both of you were so against Bonding. Furthermore, I’d become rather agitated with our situation in Wauld and the immature relations amongst our troop. ”
Auden looked up at him again with something like wry amusement.
“It may be easy to forget with my youthful appearance, but I am nearly forty-five.
Watching others blunder through romantic entanglements and illogical bouts of emotion is quite draining to my sensibilities.
And though I love my sister dearly, she is prone to exacerbating such situations.
“I’d grown tired of seeing your relationship with Evylin struggle unnecessarily under the weight of her grief,” the highlord explained.
“I was perturbed with my sister’s and your brother’s childish repartee as a means of discouraging poor Ethenn’s affection.
I subscribe to the belief that one should be open with others when it comes to matters of moral or human concern.
Yet, in finding myself surrounded by those who seemed determined to ignore the basic principle of communication, I was put out. ”
Pressing his lips together, Deckard fought the urge to defend his and Evylin’s situation.
She’d been grieving. While he would have been more than happy to have open communication about their feelings and her struggles, it would have been callous of him to pressure her into such a vulnerable conversation before she was ready.
And while it would have been preferable for her to be open with him, he couldn’t blame her for her fear when she’d lost so much.
With a sigh, Auden concluded, “With that understanding of my mental state at the time, I hope you can better appreciate the frustration that drove me to my fallacy. I should not have pressed you to promise your life to the Alliance. It was wrong of me, and I hope that you can forgive me for it.”
Though Deckard knew he shouldn’t be surprised by the request, he found himself staring blankly at the man in shock.
To which Auden appended, “Please know that I wholly release you from my unreasonable request.”
An unexpected relief filled Deckard’s lungs. Auden was freeing him from his promise. He was no longer beholden to joining the Alliance or their aims for him.