CHAPTER TWELVE
Deckard woke with a nagging feeling at the back of his brain, as though he’d forgotten or overlooked something important.
It lingered through his early morning watch with Evylin and Rafferty.
It persisted as he ate a meager and hasty breakfast of porridge.
And it followed him as he and Auden rode into the city of Carrickbrack to restock.
According to the Calders, they were making good time across the western half of the continent.
It scarcely felt possible in the dreary mist-covered landscape filled with perpetual moss and pine-riddled forest. Deckard was growing tired of riding, eating, and sleeping in the rain.
And while the siblings promised that it was only the impending springtime that made it rain so profusely, the continual drizzle made every day feel the same.
Even the three settlements they’d entered in the span of nearly two hundred miles all looked the same. So much so that Deckard found himself quietly absorbed in that nagging sensation as Auden handled the shopping. What am I forgetting? he wondered.
Had there been an extra supply he’d needed to add to the list?
Perhaps a piece of Auden and Ilain’s tutelage on Waulden culture had slipped his mind.
He felt sure that he’d remembered the date of Evylin’s birthday correctly, and he took her giving no sign of being upset with him as a confirmation.
Should their kiss last night be of any indication, she felt quite the opposite of vexation toward him.
No, it was something else. Something critical.
Deckard helped Auden load up the packs and saddlebags with the replenishment of hardtack, barley, and other rations.
He’d remembered to purchase another supply of bread—a luxury but a cheap one—so that couldn’t be what was troubling him.
Had one of their comrades said something to him on the road?
He didn’t want to forget anything in the town.
They couldn’t afford to waste time on another stop so soon.
Stepping out onto the street, Deckard ran back through the previous day. It bled into the others so much that it was no wonder he’d forgotten something. He couldn’t even remember whether they’d had goose or rabbit last night.
Rabbit, he recalled. Auden had been cleaning off the final spit they’d skewered the coneys on when Deckard and Evylin announced they were going for their walk.
Deckard smiled to himself at the thought of the previous night.
The ivy around his heart grew at the memory, knowing that she’d come to trust him at last—that she loved him, even if she wasn’t ready to say it yet.
He was quite thankful to Estshire for the unexpected blessing it had given him in Evylin.
He was even more grateful to Hewitt. After all, he was the reason Deckard had even had the chance to marry her.
A cold tingle pricked the back of Deckard’s neck.
Hewitt.
That was what was bothering him. His conversation with his subconsciously induced vision of Hewitt niggled at his mind. Something hadn’t been quite right. But what?
Deckard couldn’t deny that he’d been embarrassed by how he’d allowed his thoughts to devolve into contemplating the frustration he felt toward his and Evylin’s physical relationship.
That wasn’t a conversation he cared to entertain with anyone, even a figment.
But then, he couldn’t exactly consider it unexpected.
He might pride himself on his honor and gentility, but that didn’t negate the fact that he was a man.
His attraction to Evylin had never been in question, and even a gentleman had desires that weren’t to be spoken of in polite society.
No, while the topic had been awkward, that particular portion of his contemplations with Hewitt wasn’t what plagued his brain.
It was something more important. Something specific.
Something that made him feel as though he stood in the middle of the forest, attempting to find one very particular tree. . . .
“Jonn—”
Auden’s voice jolted Deckard out of his thoughts. He whipped his head to look at the Mage. He could only see the tip of the man’s knife-sharp nose peeking out from under his hood as they rode toward the city gate.
Promising himself that he’d return to his contemplations later, Deckard cleared his mind to focus on Auden’s words.
“I have a question to ask you,” the highlord said. “One that may . . . well, it may come across as an accusation, but I swear to you, it isn’t.”
Furrowing his brow, Deckard kept his voice low as they passed through the gate, the guards alert to their exit. “All right,” he said cautiously.
Waiting until they’d put several dozen feet between themselves and the guards, Auden asked, “Why does Evylin still have the Day Relic?”
Deckard blinked. Does Evylin still have the Day Relic? He hadn’t realized that was the case. As he didn’t want to appear such an unaware leader, he said, “No reason. She simply does.”
“You’re sure?” Auden asked, his words clipped.
Deckard raised an eyebrow. “That certainly sounds like an accusation.”
“Only voicing a concern.”
“A concern that we’re keeping the Relics from you?”
“Not at all,” Auden assured him. “My sister and I are more than happy to relinquish the Relics after our time in the Keeps. We understand how dangerous they can be, and we don’t want to become liabilities to our mission.”
Deckard found that statement to be rather pointed. “What exactly are you getting at?”
“I’m worried about Evylin’s sanity.”
That caused Deckard’s heart to stutter, the ivy rustling with shock. “Her sanity? What could possibly lead you to believe—?” He broke off as understanding flooded him. Evylin’s sudden change in demeanor, her unexpected joyousness. Somehow, it had to do with the Relic.
Auden’s downturned mouth and softened expression radiated a sense of compassion.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed it too. She’s not the same as before we left the Night Keep.
She’s begun to laugh, joke, and live as she did before Hewitt’s death.
The change was immediate. I didn’t expect that you’d let her keep the Relic, so I didn’t think to speak up.
However, Ilain noticed her playing with its chain while they rode together yesterday, and we felt it imperative we warn you. ”
Deckard had no means to deny the highlord’s words.
His mind worked to comprehend the issue as their horses plodded through the mud.
How had he completely overlooked the tie between Evylin’s access to a Relic and her emotional adjustment?
But then, he hadn’t known the Relic could cause such a dramatic change.
“Warn me of what exactly?” Deckard asked.
Cautiously, as though approaching a sleeping wolf, Auden said, “Day magic is life-giving. It is healing. And Evylin underwent a deeply wounding experience.”
That is an understatement, Deckard thought.
“As a general rule,” Auden continued, “Mages are studious and creative beings. We are the balance to the Warriors’ more strategic and aggressive nature. As such, we tend to seek ways to make things with our magic.”
“What does that have to do with Evylin?” Deckard asked.
Auden wet his lips, his eyes downcast. “Centuries ago, some Day Mages discovered the ability to infuse their magic into physical substances. Through the right methods, they could synthesize an elixir made of honey or heated sugar water. Originally, it was intended to be for medicinal use, but it was discovered that in higher concentrations, the magic within could provide amplified feelings of joy and peace. Nobles like to purchase these elixirs and mix them into various beverages, often tea or spirits, resulting in a drink imbued with Day’s essence.
It helps them to lose their inhibitions or clear their minds of fear and doubt, and in high doses even results in lifelike hallucinations. ”
The Mage met Deckard’s gaze then, his verdant eyes impressing solemnity. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?” he asked.
Deckard drew in a tight breath. “It’s a narcotic.”
Auden dipped his head in confirmation.
Thinking back to Auden’s warning about the power gifted to him and Ilain by their magic’s corresponding Relic, Deckard now realized his concern. “You said that the power granted by the Relics can become an obsession.”
“It amplifies our magic,” Auden said, “and along with it, the side of us that connects with the resource’s essence.
While the Relics are very fragments of Allore himself, their raw power can cause dramatic, potentially dangerous effects upon humans.
As such, when I wore the Fire Relic, it made me more reckless, more violent.
It amplified my zeal for our quest and turned me into a fighter when the time came.
Ilain and I shared the load on our journey into Ephria, and once we arrived, we left it under Carlile’s care.
But once we began our mission, I alone carried it.
It was a daily struggle not to give in to its pull upon my emotions.
And I still feel the effects from time to time. ”
Auden shifted to face him more fully. “That is why it’s dangerous for those of us with magic to carry them. The longer we hold them, the more influence they have over us. And the more we desire to feel that side of ourselves and the power that comes with it.”
Deckard ran a hand over his beard. “And that’s what’s happening to Evylin?”
He nodded. “The power of Day is making her feel happy and whole. Something I’m sure she desperately desires.”
“Something she desperately needs,” Deckard retorted.
“It isn’t real, Jonn. Whatever she feels when she wears the Relic, it’s not real. She hasn’t recovered from her grief; she’s covered it up.”
“Perhaps that’s what she requires for a time, to help her heal.”
Auden’s fiery brows rose. “If she asked you to procure a hallucinogenic drug to help her heal from the loss of her uncle, would you do it?”
Deckard stared at the Mage. “That’s not what this is.”
“It’s the magical equivalent.”