CHAPTER FORTY #2
She wondered if, after all this time, Ethenn’s anger had grown too hot.
Turning back to Thom, Evylin handed him the brush. “Your horse is the only one left,” she said. “I’ll happily let you care for her yourself.”
Thom gave her a half-grin, then shifted to follow her directive.
Evylin glanced at Ilain and Ethenn once more. They worked in silence; she made steady, graceful cuts, while he moved with a feverish, disgruntled pace.
Evylin nudged Thom, then tipped her chin in the pair’s direction. “What’s that about?” she asked.
Without looking, Thom shrugged. “The kid’s sulking.”
“About what?”
“What do boys ever pout about, Evie?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
He gave her a pointed look.
Evylin raised an eyebrow in expectation.
Thom sighed and turned back to brush his horse. “He’s jealous of my relationship with Ilain,” he said.
Evylin blinked. Had Thom just admitted to having a relationship with Ilain? She wasn’t sure whether to smile or frown. “So you argued because he’s jealous?” she asked.
Thom’s jaw tightened. “Yes.”
The way he said it struck Evylin as false, but she couldn’t see a reason for him to lie. “I see.” She sighed, shifting away from the horses. “Maybe try to patch it up, all right? We don’t have time for petty misunderstandings.”
Thom continued to stare at his horse’s brown coat. “Yeah, all right.”
However, the evening didn’t improve. Ilain and Evylin carried the entire conversation, speculating on the Time Keep and discussing their return journey to Ephria, the Calders’ history with the Alliance, and other empty subjects.
While Thom chimed in every so often, Ethenn sat in total silence.
Evylin thought she could see the young man attempting to hold in his anger, reeling it back so that he maintained control.
She worried about what would happen if he couldn’t manage his rage as they went into another battle at the Time Keep.
“Inevitably, I snap.”
And then someone dies, he’d added.
Evylin bit her lip as she chewed on her meal.
She grimaced at the sharp jab of pain, the faintest tinge of blood seeping into the hare.
She sucked on the cut, her mind lost to her thoughts.
Could she help Ethenn find a way to channel that temper of his through his magic? Or would his warning come true?
Before dinner ended, Ethenn rose and offered the remainder of his meal to Evylin. She accepted it, and then he turned, muttering about the need for a walk. They all watched as he disappeared into the shadowed trees.
Though Evylin thought she should have either stopped him or gone with him, she couldn’t bring herself to intrude.
She could see his need for space and sense his desperation to cobble together some semblance of control over the temper simmering within him.
She felt a similar need burgeoning within herself.
The moons glimmered in the night, their faces mostly visible. Stars beamed in the amethyst-hued night sky like the facets of the Night Relic. Evylin could almost see the crystalline refraction of Deckard’s power in the vastness of its expanse.
Finally, Ethenn returned but remained quiet as he bedded down.
Thom sat up with Evylin and Ilain for a short while longer, discussing their plans to slip past the border the next afternoon.
With the Night Relic plus the strength of Evylin and Ethenn’s magic to assist her, Ilain could shroud all four of them.
As long as they moved swiftly and carefully, they would have no problem passing the guards.
“And what will we do if there’s another ambush when we leave the Keep?” Thom asked.
Evylin turned to Ilain, worried about the same thing.
The highlady stared into the low-burning fire, its golden-orange light warming her pale skin.
“We’ll be ready this time,” she said. “The Time Mages are unlikely to side with Blount, especially after they hear of the slaughter of the Order of the Wind. They prefer to stay neutral, allied to the resource of time alone. I doubt we’ll face an attack from them.
But that doesn’t mean Blount hasn’t sent others to take us out.
“We’ll do the same as we did in Sutterlund Reach,” Ilain continued. “We’ll scout the area and ensure there are no ambushes awaiting us. Then we’ll get the Time Relic, make our run for the border, and . . .”
Evylin heard the answer in Ilain’s hesitance. “We’ll take the risk,” she said for the Mage, speaking the ominous truth. “No matter what—whether we live or die—we have to risk getting the Relics and hope to be as prepared as we can.”
“Will we split up again?” Thom asked. “If they’re looking to ambush seven travelers, that will mean we need to confuse them, right?”
Evylin nodded. “I think we should split our numbers even more, at least until we’re out of the Reach. Maybe Ilain and Ethenn go together, then Auden and Jonn, and then you, me, and Rafferty.”
“Your face is on the writ,” Ilain reminded. “You and I can travel together so that I can shroud you. Ethenn can go with the other two.”
“Glad to be one of the other two,” Thom muttered, then shook his head. “I’ll go with Jonn. He’s my brother. I—I’ll go with him.”
“And after,” Ilain said in a tone that brooked no arguments, “we will all meet and ride back to Verlund Reach together. I’m done with this separation.”
Though Evylin wanted to protest, she, too, felt the exhaustion of being separated from the others. From Deckard.
Thom sighed and bid them both a goodnight, then left the women to the first watch.
He lay at the far end of the tent, keeping as much distance between him and Ethenn as possible.
Evylin caught the barest shift of Ethenn’s form, marking his listening ear during their conversation.
She wondered what his thoughts were on their plan.
Was he feeling as worried about its failings as she was?
Evylin dropped her gaze, finding her fingers on her rings.
She frowned. She hadn’t even realized she’d been tugging on them.
Her fingertips traced the ivy etched into the simple silver band Hewitt made for her.
Then they grazed the onyx stones embedded in the platinum band from Deckard.
Her nervous tic, tugging on the rings, had started the day after Deckard had given her his ring.
She’d never had a piece of jewelry so fine, and she had an irrational fear that she’d misplace it.
Over time, she found herself worrying at the ring out of habit. Checking to ensure its placement on her finger gave her the strangest sense of comfort. It was as though the mere thought of Deckard’s ring could soothe her.
Evylin sucked in her bottom lip. The firelight caught in the onyx stones, glimmering in the facets with a variegated shine.
She’d often wondered why Deckard chose it.
Most Whickam Village men couldn’t afford such fancy rings, procuring the simpler, etched rings from Hewitt or other smiths.
The more affluent men in Trollenston bought their fiancées finer rings, like this one, but they always bore bright, sparkling gemstones, like the ones Ilain wore.
Evylin never thought she’d want something so gaudy, knowing it would get in the way of her swordplay. But this ring . . .
“It felt right,” Deckard had said.
How? He’d known her for mere days when he’d purchased it.
They hardly knew how to carry on a conversation.
Yet, he’d chosen this elegant, resplendent ring that had proven no more an impediment to her swordplay than Hewitt’s.
Somehow, Deckard had found the perfect ring based solely on an inner knowing.
Evylin’s fingers tightened on the ring, a sudden worry fixed in her mind.
She’d asked for an annulment. Their marriage would be dissolved, and this ring would hold no more meaning.
Would he expect her to return it? Her heart raced at the thought.
She didn’t want to give it back. It would make her decision too real, too final.
“Ilain,” Evylin whispered without thought.
Beside her, Ilain shifted. “Yes?”
Desperate for some distraction from her thoughts, Evylin turned to the woman. She seized the first topic that came to mind. “If Bonding is so important to you, why haven’t you? Bonded with someone, I mean.”
Ilain gave her a wry grin, raspy voice nearly silent in the night. “There are many reasons. Most importantly, I haven’t found the right man.”
“But you said that it wouldn’t matter whom you Bonded with.” Evylin drew her knees up, embracing her legs. “That the magic would make you fall in love with him.”
Ilain gave a thin chuckle. “Make is a violent word. No, it doesn’t make you love each other.
Bonding is a connection of souls. You fall in love with your partner because you understand them in the deepest, most intimate way.
You feel what they feel. And when you’re that intricately tied to someone else, you can’t help but love them. ”
“Oh,” Evylin breathed.
Ilain smiled. “It’s wise to be selective in choosing such a partner.
Just because you share a connected soul doesn’t mean you change as an individual.
You are still you, and he is still him. Personality differences, internal struggles, insecurities, temperaments, and beliefs—these things don’t change.
And like a marriage, you want to be sure you can live happily with the one you love. ”
“I see,” Evylin said, and she did. It was one of the many reasons she hadn’t married a man from the village or town years ago. Her personality and her desires didn’t match those of the men she knew. And she could never be happy in a stifled life.
“I’m lucky, though,” Ilain said, “being a woman. Men are more prevalent in magic. I believe I mentioned that to you? And that makes me a commodity. While they all vie for my attention, I have my pick.”
“That doesn’t make you feel like a prize to be won?”
“Why, Evylin,” Ilain set a hand to her chest with a mocking flair, “I am a prize. Any man who isn’t willing to fight for my heart isn’t worth my time.”