CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
It took the rest of the day for Ilain to regain consciousness.
She remained in a motionless slumber until sunset while Evylin, Thom, and Ethenn waited cautiously in the woods.
The fear of pursuers from Sutterlund Reach and the need to keep watch over Ilain kept them from venturing out of their small encampment.
In fact, they hardly spoke, the three of them alert and waiting with bated breath for Ilain’s recovery.
It was an unfortunate turn of events for Evylin, as it allowed her far too much time to regret her decision.
Throughout the day, she fought back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.
She shoved down her emotions, clinging to reason as her only remaining salvation. She couldn’t fall apart. Not now.
Whether spoken or not, she was the inherent leader of their new band.
While Thom was the highest-ranking soldier, since Evylin and Ethenn were Warriors, both outranked him in military prowess by default.
Ilain would lead their route through the moors of southern Wauld, but she wasn’t nearly as strategically minded as the soldiers and would defer to their suggestions.
And Ethenn—well, he abdicated all authority handed to him.
Without Deckard, they would naturally look to Evylin. Which meant she couldn’t wallow in her self-pity.
Instead, Evylin spent the day quietly working with Ethenn, teaching him to tap into his Warrior senses.
It wasn’t hard to train him to keep his eyes and ears magically heightened, and they both stood guard around the camp.
They took turns on watch, napping to recover from their long night in the Wind Keep.
During his shift, Ethenn went out to ensure they hadn’t left a trail.
A valuable decision, as only an hour later, they heard men searching in the woods around them.
They hunkered down, remaining low and silent in the brush as they waited for the patrol to pass.
While they watched, it was Thom’s job to take vigil over and care for Ilain when he wasn’t catching up on sleep himself.
He sat by her side, a strangely contemplative look on his face as he checked her vitals at semi-regular intervals.
His gentleness and reflective demeanor gave Evylin pause, and she began to wonder if the flirtations between him and the Fire Mage might have come to mean more than mere playful banter.
When Ilain finally roused from her slumber, it was as though she simply woke from a normal night’s rest. She stretched, looked up at Thom, and scrunched her nose.
“What a frightfully unwelcome thing to wake up to,” she said, then slapped his cheek playfully.
“Wipe that furrow from your brow, Thomas. I’m not going to die. ”
Instead of saying something normal like “I’m happy you’re all right,” Thom glowered and grumbled, “My name isn’t Thomas.”
Ilain sat up, her lips curling in a dubious scowl. “You’re not serious. Your name is just Thom. That’s not a name. It’s a nickname.”
Thom gave her a bland glare. “I just spent the last twelve hours watching you sleep. Do you mind not baiting me? Maybe you could even pretend to be grateful.”
Ilain’s coppery brows rose. “You were watching me sleep? That’s creepy, even for you.”
“My apologies for wanting to be sure you lived.”
“You’re forgiven.” Ilain rose then, straightening the folds of her skirt. She looked around the clearing, sparing a smile for Evylin and Ethenn before continuing her inspection. “Where are the others?’
Ethenn turned to Evylin.
Swallowing past the tightness in her throat, Evylin motioned toward the road, gesturing well away from their camp. “They left,” she said.
Ilain narrowed her eyes. “To go where?”
“The Time Keep,” Evylin said, then forced herself to explain the rest. “We decided to split up. They’ll go directly across the continent while we loop down through the moors.”
It took several seconds before Ilain processed Evylin’s words. “Whose stupid idea was that?” she asked.
“Technically, Auden suggested it, but I agreed.”
“I did too,” Ethenn added.
Ilain’s vibrant gaze flicked between the pair. “When did you two decide to go daft on me? What an idiotic plan. What good will splitting up do for us?”
“It lowers the odds of Blount catching us,” Evylin said. “And we split the Relics, so if he does catch one group, he won’t have all of them.”
Ilain rolled her eyes. “This is what happens when I’m left out of decisions. And whose bloody brilliant idea was it to split you and Jonn?”
“Mine,” Evylin replied.
That caused Ilain to hesitate. She crossed her arms, eyed Evylin warily, then scoffed. “You and I need to have a conversation,” she said flatly. Then she looked around the small camp. “But first, I’m starving. What do we have that we can eat on the road?”
Working to put as much distance between them and Sutterlund Reach as possible, they rode well into the night.
The terrain grew flat, and the stands of trees grew thinner and fewer.
Thick vegetation spread across the land in large swathes of bushes and grasses.
In the darkness, it all bore hues of gray, giving the landscape a decidedly dreary and morbid appearance.
When they finally decided to bed down for the night, Ethenn scouted to find a copse of trees where they wouldn’t be seen from the road.
Within the shelter of the thin, scraggly trees, they set up their tents.
A cool breeze wafted across the flat land, rustling the grasses around them.
They sat in the chill of the night, cloaks drawn around them, agreeing that a fire would draw too much attention.
“Not all of the South is like this,” Ilain told them. “But most of our journey will take us through the moorlands. Often, you can see for miles.”
“We’ll have to be careful when we choose where to rest then,” Ethenn said. “And hunting will be scarce since I’m out of arrows.”
“Not to worry. There are lovely rivers that flow through the moorlands,” she said. “They’re full of fish, so we won’t have to worry about being well-fed.”
“I hate fish,” Thom said good-humoredly. “Once when I was a child, I caught a fish from the lake—you remember, Evie, the one I took you to?”
Evylin nodded, and he went on, “Well, I caught this fish, and I was so proud. Then I reeled it in, and, wouldn’t you know it, it was dead. Half-eaten by the bottom feeders.”
Evylin and Ilain scrunched their noses in disgust.
Thom laughed. “I’ve never been able to stomach trout since.”
“Well, you’ll have to learn to,” Ilain said lightly. “Fish and what little rations we have left are all you’ll be offered for the next two weeks.”
“That’s how long it will take?” Ethenn asked.
“A little more on our route, yes.” Ilain braided her curls absentmindedly. “We’re going out of our way, but journeying through the south is far safer than up north.”
“Even with the open terrain?” Evylin asked.
“Southerners aren’t as . . .” Ilain considered her wording before grinning, “political. We’re farther from the crown, so we live more freely. There’s less nobility here too.”
Evylin nodded, noting the similarity to Ephria’s southern regions.
“We?” Ethenn caught the word. “You’re from this area?”
“Oh, yes.” Ilain’s smile brightened. “I grew up in the Highloft Moors. We’ll pass it, though, from a distance. They make the most depressingly beautiful grayscape you’ve ever seen. It makes you want to weep and never leave.”
“Sounds miserable,” Thom teased.
“Sounds poetic,” Evylin corrected. “I read a novel once about a woman plagued by the ghost of her first love. She was trapped in a castle, and the way the author described the landscape . . . it sounds just like what you said.”
“It could have been inspired by the moors,” Ilain suggested.
“What happened to her?” Ethenn asked. “The woman in the story?”
Evylin looked toward the sky, an infinity of stars spread before her. She smiled, remembering the tale. “She was following her lover’s ghost through the night,” she recounted, “when, suddenly, she was captured by a Mage.”
Ilain scoffed. “Mages are always the villains in Ephrian tales.”
“Not always,” Evylin said. “This Mage—he captured the woman and made her his slave, yes. But then they fell in love, and she was to be his bride. She showed him kindness, and he amended his cruelty. But, feeling betrayed, the ghost of her first love began to haunt her with malice instead of longing. He drove her mad, and she leaped from the castle tower to make it stop.”
Thom let out a disbelieving huff. “That’s the most depressing story I’ve ever heard.”
“Mm,” Evylin agreed. “It was a favorite of my aunt’s. She gave it to me with the promise that it would break my heart and make me believe in true love. I didn’t shed a tear, and I still fail to see the romance in driving your lost love insane.”
“I think your aunt missed the point of the story,” Ilain remarked.
“Oh?”
Ilain twisted one of her jeweled rings thoughtfully.
“It wasn’t about true love at all. It was about loss.
If the heroine could have let her first love go—if she had released his ghost and let him rest—perhaps she would have had a happy life with the Mage who lived and loved her in the present.
Instead, she held on and let the past kill her. ”
Evylin’s throat was suddenly dry. Ilain’s analysis was too astute, too revealing. The woman couldn’t know. She’d been asleep during Evylin’s outburst decrying her marriage to Deckard. None of them had spoken of it. And none of them knew why Evylin had chosen to push him away.
Refusing to accept the lesson in Ilain’s words, Evylin defaulted to the one comfort she still possessed. “I never was much for literary symbolism,” she said lightheartedly. “I always preferred sword fights and daring escapes.”
“Such a Warrior thing to say,” Ilain noted jokingly, though a glint of knowing sparkled in her eyes.