27. Aareth
TWENTY-SEVEN
AARETH
Aareth knew they weren’t going to make the tree line, and sacrificing the fact that his mouth would be filled with sand, yelled into Sloan’s ear, “We won’t—make it! Slow down!”
There was the tiniest nod from Sloan as her ponytail whipped across Aareth’s face for the hundredth time. He grabbed on to her waist even tighter as the mage-powered machine wobbled and came to a sputtering stop.
Chancing a tongue-lashing about her status as a captain or whatever she was so uptight about, Aareth grabbed Sloan around her waist and lifted her off the machine. They were close to the tree line, if they could only make it a few more yards.
To Aareth’s surprise, Sloan didn’t struggle or say a word.
Instead, she leaned into him, and together, step by step, they walked through the sandstorm.
The storm swirled and rushed around them, trying to force them to their knees or at least bring them to a standstill, but together, Aareth and Sloan refused to give in.
Soon large shadows loomed out of the sand like fog, and within a few minutes, the two had made it a few yards into the forest’s interior. They sat huddled together behind a large boulder.
Sloan pushed herself away from Aareth with an awkward cough and removed her goggles. “Oh sorry, I?—”
“Why don’t you go by your real name?”
“What?”
“You heard me.” Aareth shook sand from his long hair for the second time in as many days.
“Sloan is my real name.”
“You know what I mean. When the Queen introduced you to us when we all first met, she called you ‘Captain Charlotte Sloan.’ What do you have against the name Charlotte?”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Sloan picked sand out of her ears and spat out a few granules that worked their way into her mouth, “but Charlotte sounds too soft.”
“Oh, and we can’t have that, can we? Captain Sloan has to be feared and respected.”
Sloan gave Aareth a look that said she would murder him on the spot and dance on his grave.
“Sorry.” Aareth lifted both hands in a sign of surrender. “But seriously, Charlotte’s a good name and anyone who has been named captain of the Queen’s personal guard doesn’t have any more to prove in my book.”
“Well,” Sloan’s demeanor lightened as she changed the subject, “I’m glad my name has your approval, Inspector Aareth Emerson—or should I call you Ghost?”
“Ah, so you know.”
“Of course I know. I didn’t get to where I am just because I have a pretty first name.”
“I didn’t say it was pretty.”
“You said you liked it.”
“I do.” Aareth shrugged. “But I didn’t use the word ‘pretty’; that was all you.”
“Whatever. So are you a part of this mission because you’re done with your life as an assassin or are you working some other angle?”
“What do you think, Charlotte?”
“First, don’t call me that. Second, I see you as a man capable of a lot of good and a lot of bad. You served as one of the best inspectors in New Hope for years, and after your wife died, you did a lot of killing. So which version are you today?”
Aareth was stunned by her bluntness. He gathered himself as he was reminded of who he was talking to. “You want the truth?”
“Of course.”
“I am trying very hard to be the version of myself I was before. I just don’t know if that man exists anymore.”
Although Aareth expected Sloan to be hesitant or continue to question his intentions after such a grey response, she didn’t. It seemed like what Aareth said about trying to be the better version of himself resonated with the captain on a much deeper level.
Instead of continuing the conversation, Sloan peeked a head out from behind the boulder. “Storm’s calming down already.”
“Crazy how they can come and go so quickly, right?”
Sloan nodded.
“So what’s first? Go and dig up our steam machine or find Jack and Marcus? They were riding right next to us when the storm hit. They can’t be far.”
“We find the sorcerers first.” Sloan stood from her spot. “Without them, this mission can’t succeed.”