CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
He’d never witnessed anything so profoundly incredible.
Thom’s hands stilled, fish partially filleted before him, as he watched Evylin and Ethenn spar in the distance.
Despite the dozens of times he’d seen them duel before, this was different.
Now that Ethenn was a Warrior, now that he was intentionally tapping into his magic, the pair moved with speed and agility that no normal human could possess.
Their strikes and sweeps passed through the air so fast he could hardly see them.
When each bout ended, another started almost immediately.
He was tired just watching it.
“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” Ilain said wistfully. She sat at his side, the setting sun lighting her hair like a flame. “Warriors at their fullness.”
Thom gritted his teeth. A spike of jealousy filled him. He wasn’t used to feeling envious of anyone but Deckard. Yet, watching Evylin and Ethenn and hearing Ilain praise them so reverently—it bit at his pride.
“Yeah,” he said sourly, returning to his work on the fish. “It’s bloody fantastic.”
Ilain heard the bitterness in his tone. But instead of pitying him, she chuckled—she actually chuckled.
Thom’s head snapped up. “What’s so funny?” he demanded.
She didn’t bother looking at him, deftly deboning the fish before her. “You are. You can’t be happy for anyone, can you?”
The barb snagged in his chest, making him feel ashamed as well as jealous. What a pitiful man he was.
Thom carefully laid the filleted fish on the blanket they’d laid out to dry it on. Though the day was waning and the process normally took days, Ilain would use magic to flash-dry the meat. It turned out that having a Mage around was rather convenient.
“I’m working on it,” Thom muttered.
“Maybe work a little faster,” Ilain said. “Watching you sulk is getting old.”
Thom looked over at her, perturbed. “My apologies,” he said tersely. “I didn’t realize my moods were your entertainment.”
Again, Ilain laughed wryly. She reached over to set her hand on his, stopping him from continuing to mutilate the fish before him. Thom looked up at her in surprise, her bright green eyes boring into him.
“I have lived a great deal longer than you, Thom,” she said, her raspy voice low and impactful. “Trust me when I say, I understand how emotion can manipulate the truth. What you perceive, what you feel—oftentimes it winds up hurting more than helping.”
Thom didn’t know how to reply to that. He didn’t know how to take it.
Could Ilain possibly be saying that they were alike?
Were they? He supposed they were. He felt deeply, and now that he knew her, he could see the same signs in Ilain.
They were passionate people, often driven to reckless decisions by the intensity of their emotions.
Perhaps Ilain Calder did know a thing or two about him.
Casually moving from under her touch, Thom gave her a lopsided grin. “What? Are you my mother now?” he asked.
Ilain returned his smirk. “I like to think of myself as your conscience.”
“Does that make you a figment of my imagination?”
She snapped her fingers.
A flame scorched to life, scalding the back of Thom’s hand. “Ow!” he yelped.
With a taunting smile, Ilain shrugged. “Guess not,” she said.
Thom inspected his hand, finding it pink but otherwise unharmed. He shook it out. “That was uncalled for.”
“Don’t get your knickers in a bunch. I wouldn’t seriously injure you.”
“Oh, but you’d lightly injure me?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“If you deserved it.”
Thom eyed her, sitting back. “I’m starting to think I should be scared of you.”
“Took you long enough.” She leaned forward to lay out the fillets with precision. “Now, shut up. I need to channel the sunset.”
“Why—?”
She sent him a scathing glare, and he closed his mouth.
Ilain closed her eyes then and took a deep breath through her nose. She stretched out her hands to hover over the blanket and the waiting fish. Warily, Thom watched as she remained still as a statue for several seconds. He began to think nothing was going to happen when she said, “Don’t look.”
Thom began to ask “why not” when a sudden flash of light flared from her hands. He shut his eyes a second too late. Blinded by the Day magic, he grimaced. “You could have warned me sooner,” he said, rubbing his eyes.
He thought Ilain waved a dismissive hand toward him, but with his impaired vision, he couldn’t be sure. “You knew what I was going to do,” she said. “It’s your fault you weren’t smart enough to think ahead.”
“Allore, you really are my conscience,” he grumbled. “No one else could be so snide.”
Together, they began to wrap the now-dried fish in wax-coated cloths. Thom was amazed at how well her magic had worked. The flaky meat was the perfect mix of tender and dry. It fell off the skin readily, and when he tasted it, he found he didn’t mind fish after all.
“I’m reluctant to say,” he swallowed the bite and met Ilain’s stare, “magic may be my new favorite thing.”
She chuckled again, settling the food into a pack. Her gaze drifted to the far side of the camp, however, drawing Thom’s attention. He turned, finding Ethenn at the horses, digging through his saddlebag.
Thom glanced at Ilain, who was now pointedly retying the laces on the pack. She didn’t bother to look up even when Ethenn stepped over to retrieve a waterskin from the pile near them. He scanned the empty blanket and the pack in front of Ilain.
“Did you finish up already?” Ethenn asked, impressed.
As Ilain continued to ignore the boy, Thom spoke for her. “We did,” he said, leaning back on his forearms. “Lainy here has quite the way with a blade.”
Ilain sent him a sharp look. “A fact you’ll know intimately if you call me that again.”
Thom grinned dryly. “Whatever you say, milady.”
Shuffling, Ethenn took a step back. “Well, thanks,” he said. “Evie and I will take care of it next time.”
Thom looked up at the kid. His jaw tightened inexplicably.
Maybe that was why Thom felt suddenly jealous of Ethenn—as a Warrior, he was now Evylin’s equal.
Despite the kid’s age and lack of experience, he was suddenly the right hand, all because of his magic.
Deckard had even singled him out before they split.
That irked Thom the most. Deckard chose Ethenn over his own brother.
What could Deckard have needed from the boy?
Had he chosen to impart some knowledge or task upon Ethenn?
He’d chosen Rafferty over him too. The thought pricked him with envy like thorns on a bramble.
Deckard made a blatant choice when they split, taking Rafferty with his group.
Thom had teetered back and forth, wanting to go with Evylin but worried about parting with his brother.
It was his responsibility to care for Deckard, to ensure that neither the Deep nor his own guilt overcame him.
And then Deckard had rejected him altogether.
When Ethenn began to leave, Thom found himself speaking. “What did Deckard want with you?” he asked, his voice taut. He attempted to ease his tone, clarifying, “Before they left yesterday.”
Ethenn hesitated. He tightened his grip on whatever he’d retrieved from his pack. Thom’s eyes narrowed on it, but the kid shrugged.
“Oh, he just asked me to keep an eye on you,” Ethenn said casually. His eyes locked with Thom’s, accusatory despite his calm demeanor. “You know, to make sure you don’t steal his wife.”
The blood rushed from Thom’s face.
Ilain burst out laughing. “Why, Ethenn,” she said, amused. “I do believe your quips are growing more cutting.”
Ethenn sketched a bow. “Thank you, Highlady. I’d better get back to Evie.”
With one final damning look at Thom, Ethenn turned and jogged back across the plain.
Ilain continued to chortle, the sound suddenly grating. “What a ridiculous notion. Like Evylin would leave Jonn for anyone.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Thom muttered, too low for her to hear. Then, to distract from the truth, he changed subjects. “So what’s the plan? You gonna tell the kid how you feel about him?”
That sobered Ilain immediately. “Absolutely not.”
Thom raised his brow. The conversation was no longer a distraction but a source of great intrigue. He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “No? He’s a Warrior now. I thought that made him everything you want.”
“Do you always make things out to be more serious than they are?” Ilain asked tersely. “I said he was attractive, not that I wanted to marry him.”
“You said . . .” Thom paused in his correction. “Well, I don’t remember precisely. But you made it perfectly clear that the only reason you wanted to dissuade him was because he wasn’t a Warrior.”
“You misunderstood.”
Thom scoffed. “Like hell. I know what I saw when you healed him.”
“And what is it you think you saw?”
“You lingered,” he accused.
Ilain stiffened. “I did not.”
Thom tossed his hands in the air. He leaned back to rest on his arms again. “What’s the big deal? You had a thing for the boy, but now that he’s available to you, you’ve decided against him?”
She gave him a ferocious glare. “Have you suddenly turned into a schoolgirl, enchanted with fairy stories and romance?”
The insult made Thom smirk. “Deflect all you like,” he taunted. “You’ll only convince me more.”
“Infantile man,” she murmured, then let out a huff. “Yes, his being a Warrior makes our future possible. And yes, I . . . have certain feelings for him. No, I won’t be saying a word to him about it.”
Thom grimaced at the thought of Ilain and Ethenn as a couple. “Bleh.” He shivered in disgust, then nudged her arm. “Why not?”
Ilain picked at her skirt, removing grass from its folds. “It’s too late.”
Thom furrowed his brow. “Seems like the right time to me.”
“No—” Ilain heaved a sigh. “I’ve been dissuading him, remember? This whole time, I’ve made him think that I like you. Or, at the very least, that I don’t have an interest in him.”
“Yes, but you made it clear that you wanted a Warrior.”