73. Harper
73
Aedon swung his cloak around his shoulders and fastened the clasp around his neck. Behind him, Brand, Ragnar, and Erika waited, eager to put distance between themselves and the king, and to return to the village with the cure.
He turned to Harper, who was ready and waiting, too. She had never before appreciated how beautiful freedom was. Every blade of grass seemed greener, the rustle of the trees a sweeter lullaby, the kiss of the sun on her face more sensuous. The morning sun bathed them in light, and the clear skies were filled with the promise of better things.
“So,” he said, his tone deliberately light, but Harper could see the worry that lurked within. “Do we have one more to journey with us on our quest?”
Harper scanned their faces. Anxiety lurked in the pit of her stomach. Each bore the same grim, yet carefully blank expression and stood with bated breath, waiting for her answer. This was it. Her resolve settled, the instinct within her humming with contentment at her choice.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” she said. “If you’ll have me, that is.” She hesitated. They had parted on such poor terms, and even though they had come to rescue her, she still felt some kind of rift there, a bitterness on her part born of the hurt of their betrayal. That would take time to heal.
“You’re one of us now,” Brand said. Ragnar nodded in agreement, and even Erika jerked her head in what seemed to be support.
Harper’s smile widened. “Thank you.”
“Let’s go,” said Aedon, turning away. “Not another second to waste. People are counting on us for this cure.” They mounted their three horses, and Aedon offered a hand to pull Harper up onto his mount.
She reached into her cloak, and instead of giving him her hand, placed the weight of the Dragonheart in his palm. He stared at her, the wordless question in his eyes. “Take it. It’s needed.”
“You’re sure?” he breathed, as though he did not dare voice it too loudly in case she changed her mind.
“I’m certain.” Dimitrius’s words rang in her mind. “Let’s do some good with it.” And only then, when he had tucked it most carefully into the satchel on the side of the horse and murmured his astounded thanks, did she reach out her hand to allow him to haul her up into the saddle.
For the first time, she felt as though she lived the life she had sought. This was the adventure she had dreamed of—the chance to make something better of and for herself. And she did not have to do it alone. Here, she had a new family of sorts, a found one that somehow worked for all the odd individuals it brought together. Returning to them felt like slipping on a glove. They were as at ease with her as she was with them. Somehow, she fit in, in her own strange way, as though there was still room for her to find her feet—but they had her back. After all she had already endured with them, she felt as though she had earned her place there now.
“Come on, Harper. We haven’t got all day.” Aedon grinned and pulled her up behind him. Harper settled behind him and wound an arm around his stomach, as her own lurched with the rush of what was to come next.
For the first time in a long while, Harper felt alive. In that moment, she did not care when or if she returned to Caledan, and she certainly did not want to return to Tournai to see the king or the spymaster again. For now, she had a new home on the road, a new adventure whispering promises of novelty into her blood, and she could not wait to see what happened next. On to use the Dragonheart for good—and whatever lay beyond.