Chapter Twenty-One
T he knock came before Jem could find the words to comfort Cador. Cador strode to the door, throwing it open to reveal a quaking servant girl who squeaked, “Your father is looking for you!” and gave a lightning-quick bow before disappearing.
Kenver filled the doorway, barging inside with Jory on his heels. Jory flashed Jem an apologetic smile even though Jem’s mother had just kept him locked up for days. Kenver spoke to Cador, ignoring Jem.
“Where’s Hedrok? Now that I’m free to roam—for the moment—I would see him.”
Jem stifled his groan. Cador’s tas had the bearing of a caged mountain bear from Ebrenn Jem had seen as a boy at a summer fair. He’d changed into the fur-topped cloak he’d worn at the Holy Place all those months ago.
It seemed another life.
“He’s gone,” Cador told him bluntly. “I’m sorry. But he only knew pain at the end, so it is best.”
Kenver nodded, seeming to lose a few inches of height. “I would see him anyway. And his mother.” He turned and strode away without a glance at Jem, clearly expecting Cador to follow.
Cador hesitated. “Jem…”
“Go on. I owe Jory an apology.”
Frowning at that, Cador left. There was so much more Jem should say to him, but he didn’t know where to start. At least he knew with Jory, who was opening his mouth, holding out his hands in likely protest.
“I’m sorry,” Jem said. “You’ve only tried to be a friend to me since I first journeyed to Ergh, and I rebuffed you. I was jealous.”
Tucking his wild ginger hair behind his ear, Jory smiled softly. “There’s no need to apologize, but I accept.”
“Just like that?”
Jory seemed genuinely puzzled. “Of course. I only want you and Cador to be happy. For everyone to be happy and well.” His pale face flushed. “A childish wish.”
“No. It is a simple wish, but we share it. I’m not sure how to achieve it, though. Seems that will be frightfully complicated.”
“Indeed. What of you and Cador?”
Jem smiled wanly. “More complications. By the way, I saw Lusow in the stable. He seems no worse for wear.”
“Ah. Thank the gods. May I see him?”
“Of course. Let me ring for a servant to escort you.”
When Jem was alone again, he retreated to his childhood chamber, Jory’s wish echoing. Surely that was a shared goal of them all, even King Perran? For everyone to be happy and well. For children not to be stricken by a deadly disease that should be avoidable.
Was there a way to remind his mother and Perran and the chieftain that they should unify—and not because of the gods or whatever the clerics preached. Simply because it was right.
Curled in his old bed, Jem blinked at the familiar walls.
The tapestry was faded since he refused to shut his drapes in his chamber no matter how much the housekeeper scolded him.
What was the sense in shutting out the sunlight for the sake of wool and cotton, no matter how fine the needlework?
Though now there was only murky light from the rain-dark sky.
Even though the seascape had indeed faded over the years, Jem still loved the sweep of golden sand between azure blue sea and cloudless sky.
A mermaid frolicked in the shallows, the foamy splash of her tail rendered in delicate silver.
He’d liked to pretend she was the sister of Morvoren’s merman lover.
Jem had named her Wenna and imagined adventures for her just as grand as Morvoren’s. Wenna’s skin was brown like his own, her scales and fins a shimmering gold and ruby, long curls flowing over her bare shoulders.
This had been his chamber all his days. His sanctuary along with the aviary. If he did remain in Neuvella and Cador went back to Ergh, what would his life be like? More years of quiet solitude here with his books and imaginings? There were worse alternatives, that was certain.
Yet as much as he’d longed to return home, now sadness filled him at the idea of staying. More than sadness—a hollow ache. Was it possible he missed Ergh of all places? The thought of Cador returning to the cottage in the woods without him had him choking down a lump in his throat.
According to their initial agreement, they’d both be free to take lovers. Jem hated the notion more than he could express, hot jealousy, anger, and denial battling his empty sadness. He’d told his mother he trusted Cador completely.
Even if he trusted Cador not to hurt him or conspire against him again, could he really flay open his heart and soul and love him unconditionally? Make a life with him?
Jem stared at Wenna glumly, envious of her carefree smile. Which was ridiculous given she was made of woven fabric. She and Morvoren would never be real. Jem was home—in his chamber, in his bed. Yet he felt like a ghost haunting his own life.
His mind returned again and again to the cottage in the forest so far away on Ergh. He imagined snuggling under furs, fresh-baking flatbread filling his nose, Cador clomping around in his muddy boots.
And gods, if he could have a simple wish granted, he would return there in a heartbeat.
Jem sprang from his bed. He had to see Cador. No more wallowing in hurt. No more stubbornness. He trusted his husband. He loved him more than he’d thought possible.
This love wasn’t simple as it was for Morvoren and her merman. It was messy and imperfect and real , and it was Jem’s and Cador’s. It was worth rescuing. Worth battling for.
He rushed down to the sickroom, his heart skipping at the claps of thunder that seemed impossibly close now.
The army must be too. Would the West truly attack?
All Jem’s life, his mother and Perran had growled and sniped at each other, but the idea of an actual battle was utterly foreign.
Especially here in the place where he’d only known peace.
The sickroom was empty now, and he raced around, barely resisting shouting for Cador frantically.
He needed to see him now. They had to speak.
They had to touch. Gods, they had to kiss .
Nothing else seemed as important though he knew that wasn’t true with soldiers bearing down and sick children and the diplomatic disaster between his mother and Kenver, resentment surely poised to boil over.
But where was Cador?
At the landing atop the grand entrance, Jem skidded to a stop, his attention catching on the view from wide windows over the valley. For a moment, he blinked and squinted, unable to understand what he was seeing in the distance.
On the north side of the valley, a river flowed. But there was no river there. There had never been a river there—it should have been the road to the nearest village. Yet it was a wild torrent, brown water surging.
“Jem!” Santo called as they approached, breathless, their braid flying. “I told him not to go, but he insisted!”
“Who? What?” Jem tore his gaze from the bizarre river to Santo’s reddened face.
“Cador. When he heard the valley was flooding, he said he was going to get the hatchling.”
“Doryty!” How had Jem not even thought of her?
“Yes. And he said your book was there. I told him it was too dangerous, but he ran off anyway. Arthy tried to go after him, but Mother forbade it. She wants us all to come—”
Jem ran. He ignored Santo’s shouts, dodging any hands that reached for him as he slipped out a side door toward the stable. The force of the rain shocked him, lashing his face brutally.
There was no time to go on foot. As much as he cared for the hatchling and his beloved book, he couldn’t allow Cador to risk his life.
He wouldn’t allow it.
Jem had to catch him quickly. He felt like he watched himself from afar as he careened into the stable, Jory saying something as Jem ran and jumped onto Lusow’s back, not breaking stride or hesitating for even a blink.
Lusow was as tall as Massen, and Jem’s heart hammered at the thought of controlling this beast.
Jory gaped up at him. “How did you…?” He shook his head. “What are you doing?”
“I need to get Cador!”
“Where is he? I’ll go. You’ve barely learned how to ride.”
“I can do it!” Jem felt very, very far from the ground. Thunder clapped, making them all jump, Lusow side-stepping and snorting. Jem squeezed his thighs around the horse tightly. Jory would have no idea where to go, and Jem could do this. He would.
“Cador needs me.”
Jory nodded, giving Jem the reins and smacking Lusow’s hindquarters. It was a miracle Jem wasn’t unseated immediately as they bolted out into the sheets of rain.
Clutching the leather reins and Lusow’s thick mane, Jem practically lay flat on his belly, using his heels to steer down the winding drive. His heart thundered with the rumble of hooves, but if he fell, he would get right back up onto Lusow’s back.
Guards shouted at him with concern to halt, armed forces gathering to face King Perran and his soldiers. It didn’t matter. The castle stood high on a hill with the wooded valley on all sides. It would soon become a massive moat.
Jem could barely see, the rain like needles against his face, but he knew the way blindfolded. Still, home was no longer this castle. Not even his aviary nestled in the lush grasses with honeysuckle breezes and the sun’s caress that would surely return.
Now, Jem longed for a one-room cottage in a dense pine forest under gray skies with a man who smelled like moss on stone.
Nothing—no flood and not even an army—would stand between him and his husband.