CHAPTER SIXTEEN #3
“That’s going to get annoying,” Thom said, and Deckard couldn’t help smiling. Though he didn’t begrudge the women the use of their native language, he also found it frustrating not to know what they were saying.
Brea filleted a pigeon’s breast from its ribs in one steady slash. “If you want to learn Schonese, I’ll teach you,” she said.
“Really?” Thom asked.
“Would you teach all of us?” Evylin added.
Brea smiled. “I don’t have the time to teach all of you. Though I’m sure you’ll all pick something up here or there.” She shook her head. “In the morning, we will begin our training—you, Ethenn, and I.”
“We have to leave early each morning,” Auden interrupted, “to ensure we make it to our next stop quickly.”
Brea sent him a bland stare. “We will wake at first light—”
Evylin and Ethenn both frowned.
“For exercise,” she explained. “Then, when we make our stop each evening, we will get to the real work.”
Thom nodded. “That’s when we normally train.”
Brea gave him an amused look. “You won’t be joining us.”
“What?” Thom and Rafferty said together.
“Warriors need special training with those who challenge them,” Brea said.
“If they aren’t constantly challenged, they stagnate.
Since Ethenn, Evylin, and I possess the advantage of magic, we can push one another no matter what.
As no one else in the camp is a Warrior, no one else is invited to our training. ”
“Well, that’s—” Thom cut himself off, grumbling under his breath.
“Who are we supposed to train with, then?” Rafferty asked.
“Relax, Rafferty,” Deckard said. “You’ll train with me. And Hewitt.”
“Eh!” Rafferty said happily as Evylin exclaimed, “What?”
Deckard brushed a comforting hand over her back. “Speaking of,” he said, rising, “Evylin and I need to speak with him. We’ll be back shortly.”
Readily, Evylin hopped up at his side while the rest of the group turned away, and Rafferty immediately began pestering Brea with questions about her life in Schon.
As they walked into the trees, Evylin wove her fingers through his.
The sunset peeked through the clouds, filtering through the thick canopy above their head.
Though the air had smelled of rain all day, it had yet to fall.
Still, the perpetual chill led them to keep their cloaks on their shoulders, though with their hoods down.
“I still can’t believe I get to see him again,” Evylin said, her voice tremulous. “There’s so much to tell him and so little time. . . .”
Knowing she wasn’t referring to the shortness of their evening, Deckard drew her closer to his side.
“We’ll make the most of what time we have left,” he promised.
“I can’t keep him around at every moment, but I can make him part of most things.
I have the strength for that now, especially with the Night Relic. ”
“Do you think it’s wise, though?” she asked as if nervous to hear the true answer. “We know now that Night isn’t your first resource, but . . . Isn’t it still dangerous, connecting with it too much?”
“Despite Auden’s concerns, the use of Night magic does not ensure a descent into madness.” He squeezed her hand in reassurance. “Trust me. I can summon Hewitt without risking my sanity.”
Visibly, Evylin relaxed, and the air around her eased. “He’ll be happy for us,” she said. “And I think he’ll approve of our Bonding, even if it takes some convincing.”
Deckard smiled. “I think you’re right. If nothing else, he’ll be glad to know it makes you happy and keeps you safe.”
She nudged his side. “It keeps you safe too.”
“And it makes me happy,” he agreed. “But Hewitt won’t care about that. He only cares about you.”
“Don’t say that.”
He glanced at her, bemused by the flare of some sharp emotion emanating from her. Thinking it likely from embarrassment, he continued to tease her. “It’s true. He’s told me many times that he doesn’t care what happens so long as you’re taken care of. I’m just the best way to accomplish that.”
Evylin came to an abrupt halt, expression serious. “Don’t say that,” she repeated.
Trying to determine her true feelings, Deckard studied her carefully.
“Evylin, it doesn’t bother me,” he said, wondering if she was concerned for him.
“He’s your uncle. You two were closer than I’ve been with .
. . Well, with anyone but you. My relationship with Hewitt has always been tied to you—it’s always been about you. ”
Evylin pulled away from him. “Why does everything have to be about me?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Everything is always about me,” she said with a huff. “Your relationship with Hewitt. Our future. According to Isla, even Blount is obsessed with me, no matter if he is mentally unstable. Why can’t things ever be about someone else?”
Deckard couldn’t help smiling. “Because we love you.”
Evylin shook her head. “Blount doesn’t love me. He wants to use me.”
“What do you want me to say?” He shrugged. “Hewitt and I both have one aim: making you happy. Why is that a bad thing?”
She met his gaze with a strange adamance. “Maybe I don’t want to be the one everyone sacrifices for. Maybe, for once, I want to be the one taking care of you.”
Deckard frowned, confused by the sentiment. “So long as you’re happy, I have no needs.”
Slowly, a bewildered smile came to her lips. “You selfless idiot,” she whispered fondly. Then she stepped forward, rolled onto the balls of her feet, and kissed him. “I love you.”
“I love you,” he replied, slightly perplexed by her behavior. “Now, do you want to see your uncle or not?”
Her smile grew brighter. “I do,” she said.
“Come with me, then.”
Deckard led her a short distance forward until he found a good, secluded spot.
They walked together to a giant, overgrown tree with dry roots where they could sit.
The light was growing dimmer, but they were less than five minutes from the camp.
Even if they stayed out for an hour, they’d easily find their way back.
Summoning Hewitt’s ghost took minimal effort. Deckard had grown so used to it over the past month that it was nearly second nature. He merely willed it, and the man was before them with his unruly beard, leather armor, and crossed arms.
“About bloody time,” Hewitt said, standing at the base of the tree across from them.
“Sorry,” Deckard replied. “Things got . . . messy.”
At his side, Evylin stared at her uncle, joy, sorrow, and longing all wrapped around her like thread around a spool. “You’re here,” she breathed.
Hewitt’s steely gaze landed on her, a soft smile on his lips. “And you’re here,” he said, gravelly tone softened. “I’m glad for that.”
Catching the shimmer of tears in Evylin’s eyes, Deckard took the initiative for her. “We have quite a lot to tell you,” he said.
Hewitt studied them, taking in their closeness. “You’re staying together,” he said more than asked.
Evylin let out something between a sob and a laugh.
“We are,” Deckard confirmed.
“While I hate to second-guess you,” Hewitt raised his brow, giving Evylin a pointed stare, “you have fooled me once. There’s no backing out, is there?”
This seemed to dry up Evylin’s tears. She straightened her shoulders. “Not that it’s any of your business,” she said sharply, “but no, there’s not.”
Hewitt turned to Deckard, brow raised. “No?”
Deckard chuckled nervously. “Certainly not.”
“Good.” Hewitt drew up then, giving them each a firm nod. “I’m glad to hear you’ve gotten your affairs in order. Now, tell me about this mess you’ve gotten yourselves into and why it’s taken you so damn long to talk to me again.”
Over the next long while, Deckard and Evylin explained the past several days.
The sun set, casting the sky in a deep purple blue.
The forest grew colder, and Deckard wrapped his arm around Evylin to keep her warm.
They talked through their time as Renaul’s captives, their escape, their time with the Alliance, and their Bonding.
Hewitt was wary of the concept of the Bond but accepted it readily enough.
He wanted to meet Brea to ensure she was fit to train Evylin and Ethenn.
He found Deckard’s revealed classification as a Space Mage uninteresting so long as it didn’t affect his ability to release him.
When Deckard assured him that it would not, he went on to explain the process of summoning and releasing ghosts.
“I want to keep you around in the meantime, though,” Deckard said.
“I’d like you to train Thom, Rafferty, and myself.
Maybe Vayden, too, if he’d like to join.
And I want you to spend as much time with Evylin as you can.
I’ll have to be there, or at least nearby, but we only have a few weeks left, and I want to make the most of our time with you. ”
Hewitt nodded, a rare smile coming to his lips. “I’m proud of you,” he said. “Of both of you.”
Deckard was surprised at how much the praise made his heart swell.
“I shouldn’t have this extra time,” Hewitt said. “I know that. The dead are supposed to be dead. But I am thankful for it, if only because I get to see you happy, my Evie. I get to see you live the dream you and Ryen shared. And to me . . .” He shrugged. “That’s worth everything.”
Evylin cried then, and Deckard held her since Hewitt couldn’t.
Once her tears dried, Deckard looked up at the ghost. “Would you like to come back with us?” he asked.
Hewitt nodded slowly, a strange softness in his steely gaze. “I would.”