CHAPTER FORTY-SIX #2
Ilain opened her mouth, but Thom kept going. “She asked me to flirt with her. Not because she wanted me.”
Evylin hesitated, unsure if Thom was about to reveal Ilain’s true feelings or . . .
“Because she didn’t want you,” Thom concluded. “We were never anything. But that’s more than you could ever be to her.”
In a blinding flash, Evylin saw the switch in Ethenn’s demeanor, the fire in his eyes, only a millisecond before he acted. “Inevitably, I snap.”
The Warrior was on Thom again, his deadly blows more accurate and brutal than ever.
Within a second, the men were on the ground, Ethenn pummeling Thom’s face, again and again.
Another second, and there was a grotesque crack, then Ethenn’s hands curled around Thom’s neck.
Thom struggled helplessly, his face going from red to purple.
Coming to her senses, Evylin sprang forward to stop Ethenn before it was too late.
“Stop!” Deckard shouted, a depth and volume to his voice that was unnatural. It was loud and fierce and doubled, as if there were two of him. A growl of sound that made Evylin’s blood run cold.
Everyone froze, turning to stare at Deckard and the ghost by his side.
With a heave, Ethenn released Thom, who lay on the ground, gasping for air. The young Warrior staggered back as Rafferty stood to the side, mouth gaping. Ilain set a hand to her mouth, and Auden’s eyes went wide in rage.
But Evylin’s heart fluttered, her eyes filling with tears. “Uncle?” she whispered.
In the fading light, Hewitt stood beside Deckard, looking just as she remembered him, his scraggly beard, bushy eyebrows, massive frame, and commanding presence unchanged.
Whole and alive. He wore his gray military coat, with the major’s insignia on the left breast pocket.
His sword hung, belted at his waist. The hilt of a dagger peeked out from his boot.
And his gray eyes pierced her with the intense stare that made her feel so safe, so secure.
“Hello, Evie,” Hewitt said, his rumbling voice resonating deep within her soul.
Before she could ask one of the thousand questions pressing to her lips, Auden pushed past Ilain. “I told you to let him go,” he yelled at Deckard.
“And I told him not to,” Hewitt said with a glare that challenged the highlord to defy him.
Evylin looked at Deckard. His green-blue gaze was locked on her as the Night Relic beamed bright amethyst on his chest. “You did this?” she asked.
“Yes,” Deckard said gently.
“What’s happening?” Rafferty asked. “How’s Hewitt here?”
“I’m a ghost,” Hewitt said.
Rafferty laughed nervously. “Good one. But really—how are you here? Did you make a deal too?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Deckard sighed. “I summoned him.”
“I told you not to, Jonn,” Ilain said worriedly.
“It was before we spoke,” Deckard told her by way of apology.
Evylin didn’t care about any of their questions or qualms. She crossed the space between them, staring up into the face of the man she thought she’d never see again. His expression softened, and he gave her a fond smile. The one he never gave to anyone but her.
“Is it really you?” she asked.
Hewitt dipped his chin. “It is.”
The truth hit her all at once. Her vision in the Night Keep. Deckard’s disappearances into the woods. His deep connection to Night magic.
“I saw you,” Evylin said. “In the Night Keep.”
“I thought so,” Hewitt said. “I didn’t dare to hope . . .”
Auden grumbled in the background, but everyone ignored him.
Evylin turned to Deckard. Her eyes dropped to the Relic, understanding dawning. “You summoned him with Night magic?”
“I did,” he said, his tone repentant.
Thoughts swirling and heart pounding, Evylin dropped her head into her hands.
Her fingers felt like ice against her cheeks.
She couldn’t understand, couldn’t reconcile everything that was happening.
After the Time Keep, Thom’s confession, and Ethenn’s attack, she was too tired, too emotionally wrung out to comprehend that her uncle—her dead uncle—was standing in front of her.
Her breathing grew shallow as she struggled to keep the tears at bay.
As she hesitated, Auden began to order Deckard to release the ghost. Ilain tried to rationalize with her brother, but he shrugged her off. Rafferty helped Thom up, his face and throat splotched with welts and blood. Ethenn stood to the side, staring at his bloody hands.
Evylin closed her eyes, blocking out everyone else. Her thoughts churned over and over.
Hewitt was dead. But he was here.
Hewitt was a ghost. But he was here.
Hewitt was here.
“Would you two shut up?” Hewitt shouted at the Calders.
The siblings went silent.
“Thank you.” Hewitt scanned the group. “For the first time in a month, I get to talk to someone other than Deckard, and I’m going to use it to my advantage.”
The whole troop waited, frozen as they hung on the ghost’s words.
Hewitt nodded, pleased with their compliance. “Let’s get one thing straight: I’m not here for any of you. I’m here for Evylin. So your petty quarrels and fears of certain types of magic don’t matter to me. I’m not benevolent. I’m her uncle.”
The smallest smile tugged at Evylin’s lips.
“However,” Hewitt eyed them each in turn, “your conflicts do interfere with my girl’s happiness, which makes them my problem. And if you don’t get your acts together, I will come back and haunt each one of you until the end of your days.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Rafferty muttered, and Thom snorted.
The sound drew Hewitt’s attention. His sharp stare fell on Thom. “You.” He spat the single word like an accusation.
Thom slouched but didn’t back away. His nose was notably broken, his face already turning black and blue.
Hewitt moved around Evylin, aggressively bearing down on Thom. “I trusted you,” he said accusingly. “And you betrayed me.”
“I didn’t!” Thom insisted, panic filling his face.
“You tried to take her. You don’t call that a betrayal?”
“Not a betrayal of you.”
“I chose him.” Hewitt pointed back to Deckard, then to Thom. “Not you.”
Thom turned away.
“She chose him,” Hewitt added, and Evylin’s heart squeezed. “If you truly cared for her, then you’d respect that.”
Thom kept his gaze down but nodded.
“Humph.” Hewitt swung around. “As for the rest of you: I’ll state it one more time. Get your acts together. You’re not children. Stop acting like it.”
Ethenn, Ilain, and Auden studiously avoided Hewitt’s gaze.
Rafferty raised his hand. “I’d like to point out,” he said, setting the hand to his chest, “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Evylin smiled, and, to her surprise, Deckard laughed.
“Bully for you,” Hewitt grumbled. “Now, get out of here, all of you. I want a moment alone with these two.”
Auden didn’t listen. “We’ve lingered for too long,” he argued. “And this magic is too dangerous—”
Ilain set a hand on his arm. “I’ll travel with Ethenn,” she announced. “With his power and the Fire Relic, I should be able to shroud us just long enough to cross the border. Auden can take Thom and Rafferty.”
“I’ll need the Night Relic—”
“Shut up, Auden,” Ilain said, passing an encouraging smile to Evylin before pushing her brother toward the dismantled campsite.
As the Calders made their way through the trees, Rafferty put each arm around Thom and Ethenn’s shoulders. “Come on, gents,” he said merrily. “Let’s see if the Day Mage can put your face to rights, Thommy.”
Once the Ephrians disappeared beyond the tree line, Hewitt turned to Evylin and Deckard. “I don’t miss them,” he said flatly.
Evylin let out a gasping laugh. Her head was light with emotion, and her eyes were full of tears.
“Now,” Hewitt said, meeting her gaze, “it’s your turn.”
Taking a deep breath, Evylin stepped closer. “Can I touch you?”
Hewitt frowned. “No. I’m just an image.”
Evylin’s tears fell. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “How are you here?”
“By Night magic, I’m told,” Hewitt said with a grin in Deckard’s direction.
“But how?” It was Deckard she turned to ask then.
Giving her one of his most comforting smiles, Deckard shrugged. “I really don’t know. It just happened. One moment, he was here, and I . . . I’ve kept him with me all this time.”
“All this time?”
“Since we buried him.”
Evylin furrowed her brow. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“At first, I thought I was going crazy,” he admitted. “I didn’t know it was magic. And when I finally realized what I’d done, I wasn’t strong enough to make him visible to you, and I didn’t want you to think . . .”
Evylin’s fingers found her rings. “You were right. I would have thought you were trying to manipulate me.”
Stepping between them, Hewitt drew their attention. “You two can discuss this later. For now, Auden is right. We need to make this reunion quick so you can leave.”
Deckard nodded. “I can feel my reserves running out of magic as it is. The Keep drained me.”
“Then you’d best give me a minute with her.”
With a glance at Evylin, Deckard stepped back. “I’ll be just beyond those trees,” he told her.
Evylin caught his hand before he could leave, heart in her throat as she whispered his name. He paused, waiting. A regretful smile came to her lips, filled with all the emotion she’d withheld over the last two weeks. “Thank you.”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then pulled away.
Evylin and Hewitt watched Deckard go. His long, steady strides carried him through the hazy forest, the sunset casting long shadows around the forest. The last vestiges of light caught in his hair, gilding it to a shade more red than brown.
When he passed into the trees, Evylin let her gaze fall to the rich green grass. She already knew what Hewitt planned to tell her. This was the conversation she’d never hoped to have. They would fight over her decision, and it would turn into a battle of hearts and wills.
Hewitt crossed his arms. “I’m told you defied my direct order,” he said.
A sour grin came to her lips. “I know what you’re going to say?” she said lightly, “what you want me to do. I can’t do it.”
Hewitt gave her a patronizing smirk. “It’s like we’ve had this conversation before.”