Chapter 51 Evera
EVERA
Warmth cocooned me. Neirin slept at my back, his arm wrapped at my waist, and Calix was curled against my chest. The cold breeze caught my nose and sent a chill down my spine, but in the warmth of my family’s embrace, I felt safe from anything that lay beyond us.
Secure. Was I wrong to push this pursuit?
Was I putting my new family at risk for the sake of the children held in the castle?
Could I live with myself if something happened to one of them?
They were the same questions I’d asked myself time and again as I’d waited for Neirin’s breathing to slow with sleep.
I studied the outline of the treetops, silhouettes against a sky speckled with stars.
Though I knew my plan held the possibility of failure, it was the only option I could see before us.
The river flowed too fast for us to swim, or at least it was for Calix and I.
Neirin could, as his fox, but he would never agree to a plan that involved having to shift.
However, if he woke to find Calix and I already at the other bank—if shifting were his only way to reach us … It was the only way.
“Calix,” I whispered the boy’s name, stroking his cheek with my thumb. He mumbled but didn’t rouse. “Calix, wake up.”
Yawning, he half opened his eyes, his lips pouted. “Wha—”
“I have a plan. We can’t wake Neirin,” I said, hushing him.
He sighed, and I wondered briefly whether he would go along with my plan or if he would question it.
Leaving Neirin, I knew, went against his instinct and his loyalties.
But he was loyal to me, too. He trusted me, and I hoped that was enough for him to put his faith in my plan. It was the only chance we had.
Without further word, he shuffled away from me and sat on his knees, his eyes studying as I carefully moved Neirin’s arm aside and wiggled out of his hold. The chill at the lack of his body heat hit me instantly, and I resisted a shudder.
Looking down at my mate, my love, my world, I hesitated.
But this was the only way. I’d turned countless options over in my mind, and no other path seemed possible.
It was time for me to be brave, to be strong.
To put into place what would move us forward.
Once we were across the river, though, there truly would be no turning back.
As if the rushing water itself were a physical representation of the last barrier between the war that waged in my mind—the war between running away and keeping my family safe or risking everything to do what was right.
Adjusting the single small blanket we’d shared to keep Neirin warm, I resisted the urge to kiss his brow before standing and turning my back to him.
My heart thundered in my chest, and I let out a breath to steady myself, focusing on the rushing of the river, the gurgles and splashes, the smell of fresh water in the air.
Calix stood beside me, handing me my bag which contained the remains of our rations and supplies. Nodding, I took it from him, letting my right shoulder take the brunt of the weight, and set forward, following the course of the river.
We walked in silence, even as the bridge came into view.
The twin moons shone down, both waning, denoting the passing of time.
Had it been only just over a moon, then, since the festival?
Beside me, Calix’s steps shuffled the stones as he dragged his feet, showing his exhaustion.
I was responsible for him, for a child. So recently, I had dismissed the thought of marriage and motherhood.
But this family with Neirin and Calix wasn’t confining, wasn’t stifling.
They both supported me, believed in my abilities, in my mind, and in my heart.
The corners of my lips turned up, and I wrapped an arm around Calix’s shoulders, drawing him closer to me as we followed the river.
The loose stones and dirt underfoot gave way to a cobbled road, and I slowed my pace. Calix tensed but showed no other sign of hesitancy. He kept his eyes down as we stopped before the bridge.
Two soldiers leaned against the bridge’s stone railing on one side, and a third sat with a waterskin in hand.
One of the men standing nudged his companion, and both smirked as the first nodded at us.
“What are a woman and a child doing traveling alone, and so late?” He stepped toward us, his eyes dark even in the glint of the lantern propped atop the railing.
Calix could take down the three of them if it came to it, but that would rouse suspicion if a change in the soldiers’ shifts occurred, or if another traveler crossed the bridge and alerted someone within the city.
No, we had to cross without drawing suspicion.
Otherwise, this task would be in vain. There would be no sneaking into the castle if the guard were on alert.
“Thieves overtook us in the mountain pass,” I said, allowing my voice to shake, hoping I would come off convincing in my lie.
Calix’s eyes remained downcast. The reputation of the thieves in the pass, I hoped, would be enough for the men to take pity on us.
I’d considered using a prickle brush to give Calix and I the appearance of an ailment, but that could have gone wrong.
The guards might have turned us away from the capital in an attempt to keep the contagion from spreading.
As it was, there was no reason for the men to turn away a woman and child.
That did not mean we were perfectly safe.
At this time of night, the guards could easily take advantage of us.
Calix would protect me, I knew, but it was my role not to let it come to that.
The first guard looked back, but his companion against the railing lent him no guidance. Turning back to us, he huffed. “Who else were you traveling with?”
“Just my—” I cast my gaze aside and sniffled, wishing I had the ability to fake tears.
“Father,” Calix said, squeezing my hand. He raised his chin, meeting the guard’s eyes. As young as he was, in such a situation, Calix would become the head of our house if it were just him and I left. “He distracted them while we fled.”
“Why did you take the pass at night?” The guard’s tone held no sympathy, though the tight downward turn of his lips told me it was likely we’d shifted his mindset just a little.
“Father is—was—a healer. Word came for us to come urgently. One of our customers is suffering with her pregnancy.” Calix sighed. “Now I will have to take Father’s place in aiding her until her delivery. I was Father’s apprentice.”
The man before us flexed his fist, hovering just above the pommel of his sword as if struggling over how to respond to our story.
“Back down, Renfred.” The voice that spoke up was gravelly, aged. Taking a swig from his waterskin, the older soldier propped against the railing, coughed once, then took another drink. “Let them pass. Can’t you see they’ve had enough of a night?”
Renfred flexed his jaw, and his companion standing a short distance back stifled a laugh at the lecture. He stepped aside, and as Calix and I passed the older man, I touched a hand to his shoulder.
“Thank you,” I said, voice quiet. He looked up at me, wrinkles creasing beside his eyes baggy with exhaustion.
I could smell the alcohol from his waterskin this close, and for a moment, as I held his gaze, I wondered why he looked so solemn.
Had he lost someone? Apprehension tugged at my gut, and again I let the fear of what lay ahead take hold of me.
Calix squeezed my hand, and I let him coax me the rest of the way across the bridge. Was I leading Calix to a fate similar to the old man’s? Was I to leave Neirin to grieve the rest of his life for Calix and I? Was I to be left to grieve for one or both of them?