CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
At the sight of Deckard and Evylin glittering with the silhouette of Space morphing and moving around them, Thom frowned.
He’d never witnessed anything so terrifyingly incredible as Warrior and Mage fighting side by side.
Seeing the magic swirl around their forms was like catching them in an intimate embrace, much like when they’d Bonded. They were unity embodied.
And it made him more aware than ever that he didn’t belong in their world.
Turning away as Deckard wrapped his arms around Evylin, Thom forced down the jealousy coiling in his gut. He didn’t begrudge their happiness. But he did envy it.
Thom leaned against the windowsill between one of the arches in the antechamber.
He worked to slow his heart rate as he scanned their troop.
Rafferty stood to his left, his hand still pressed to his ribcage.
Isla helped Vayden and Brea lower Ethenn to the floor.
The hunter grimaced, his whole face aflame with a blush.
Thom was beginning to wonder if the response was a nervous tic after all or something else entirely.
“I’ll be fine,” Ethenn said through gritted teeth. He handed the Terrae Relic to Brea with his right hand, the other clutched to his chest, its shape smashed and bent oddly. Vayden guided him to lean against the wall as Ilain knelt beside them, muttering under her breath.
When she began to check him over, Ethenn shied away from her touch. “I’m fine,” he repeated. “Warriors heal themselves, right?”
Ilain’s glare could have burned a whole village to the ground. “Give me your bloody hand,” she demanded.
Ethenn’s jaw tightened. His eyes darted to the side where Deckard and Evylin approached, their magic fully extinguished. Then he did as Ilain instructed.
With a gentle touch, she took hold of him. Her hands trembled, but she tested the swollen wrist. “I can see that you’re scraped up,” she said with a rote tone, like she’d shut off her emotions to perform the task. “But do you have any other injuries?”
Reluctantly, Ethenn pointed to his abdomen and left leg.
After checking the areas, Ilain scowled.
“You bloody idiot,” she muttered, but Thom could see the tears that pooled at the corner of her eyes.
She settled her hands over Ethenn’s wrist, preparing to heal it.
“Yes, Warriors heal themselves over time. But with the bruising along your ribs, the contusions across your body, a torn sartorius muscle in your thigh, and the numerous fractures in your wrist and hand . . .” She seared him with a glare.
“It would take about a year to heal all this purely on your own magic.”
A sour grin pulled at Ethenn’s lips. “Guess Thom has his chance to get me back for setting his leg.”
Thom smirked, and Rafferty sniggered, though there was an unusual wheeze to the sound.
Ilain was far less amused.
A flare of bright orange light burst between their hands, and he convulsed.
Clearly fighting to hold in a scream, he lost the battle.
He cursed and glared at her even as she moved on to his leg.
He shifted uncomfortably when she touched him, and Thom didn’t have to wonder why.
The muscle he’d torn was rather high on the inside of his thigh.
Another flash of light, another snarl of pain from Ethenn, and Ilain pulled away.
“There,” she said sharply. “I healed the fractures and the muscle. I don’t have the energy to fix the rest in addition to Jonn and Rafferty’s wounds. And as you said, your magic will heal you just fine. Give it about two weeks, but don’t come crying to me when you can’t sleep from the pain.”
Ethenn massaged his now healed hand, still pressed against his chest. “You were right, Raff,” he said, lips tight. “She’s not much of a caring nurse, is she?”
Ilain’s lips lifted in a sly grin, and Thom pitied the young man’s folly. Her chin rose, the emerald light around them contrasting fiercely with her red hair. “I care for those who care for me,” she said stolidly.
And with that, Ilain walked away. She stepped over to Rafferty first, healing his punctured lung with a flare of light.
“Is this it then?” Brea asked, breaking the awkward silence. “We’ve retrieved the Relic, and now we wait for Blount?”
Deckard nodded. “It’s likely night at this late hour,” he said as Ilain came to heal his cracked rib. “If our calculations were correct, we should only have to wait twelve to twenty hours before he arrives.”
Her work complete, Ilain sat next to Thom.
Her shoulders drooped, and her face was shadowed with exhaustion.
“We need all the recovery we can get in that time,” she said.
From the rasp in her voice, it was clear that weariness was settling over her.
“With our injuries, the depletion of our magic, and the energy we exerted, we have to rest if we want a chance to stand against him.”
“We’ll stick to the plan,” Deckard said. “We can’t risk going back to the town and missing Blount’s arrival.”
Thom wiped the last beads of sweat from his brow. “Then we know our roles,” he said. “You and Ethenn up top. Ilain, Brea, and I will be on the beach.”
They’d made their plan the previous night. With no time to spare, they had to be ready for Blount whenever he made his appearance. That meant setting up an ambush.
Deckard and Ethenn would be their lookouts on the clifftop. Once they spotted Blount, Deckard would teleport them down into the Terrae Keep’s antechamber and alert Evylin, Rafferty, Isla, and Vayden.
And in the meantime, Thom, Brea, and Ilain would be a contingency on the beach.
They would flank Blount’s men, but if they were given the signal (they had come up with three separate signals to ensure their success), the trio would run as far as they could, taking the Wind and Space Relics with them.
No one liked the plan, but it was their only shot.
If Blount defeated their ambush, they couldn’t let him capture all the Relics.
They couldn’t take the Terrae Relic out of the Keep’s antechamber yet; if Blount had any Terrae Mages with him, they’d feel its entrance into the world again.
So while Deckard and Evylin would fight with the Night and Terrae Relics, they hoped their Bond was enough to stop Blount.
If it wasn’t, they would all be secure in the knowledge that Thom would get Ilain and Brea to safety.
They would regroup with the Alliance, form a new plan, and take Blount down another day.
The plan was the only hope they had.
One by one, they gathered, said their goodbyes, and parted. Thom hugged Evylin tightly, worried it’d be the last time he’d see her.
“Be safe, all right?” he whispered during their lingering embrace.
She’d come to mean so much to him over the last four months.
She was a sister, a friend, a comrade, and a confidante.
He trusted her more than anyone, aside from possibly Deckard, and his heart ached at the thought of never seeing her again.
Evylin gave him a final squeeze, just as Meria would have. “You as well.”
Deckard’s hug was scarcely less affectionate.
The brothers clung to one another, the hurt of past decades all but gone.
If nothing else, this mission had repaired their troubled relationship.
It had changed Thom wholly. He no longer sought what he couldn’t have.
He only cared to be by his brother’s side.
“I’ll see you later,” Deckard said when they broke apart.
Thom nodded, refusing to give in to his fear. “Don’t miss me too much.”
With a pat on Rafferty’s back and a ruffle of Ethenn’s hair, Thom shook Vayden’s hand, nodded to Isla, and joined Brea at the stairs.
Ilain took longer to say goodbye to Vayden and Isla, their words whispers in the antechamber.
Ethenn stood as far from the woman as possible, his chin tucked into his chest.
Thom ran a hand along his jaw, studying them.
Brea nudged his elbow. “You’re frighteningly obvious when you’re scheming,” she said.
“I’m not scheming,” he replied. “I’m considering.”
“Very different,” she noted.
“Exactly.”
At last, Ilain joined them. They ascended the staircase, ready to seek a hiding place among the rocky shoreline.
The sky was speckled with stars as they stepped outside, but both moons were mere slivers, keeping the night darker than usual.
Thom shivered from the damp breeze sweeping across the sea.
Waves crashed against the shore, spraying them with salty droplets.
They found a hideout nearly a mile down the coast. Brea’s magic would be their means of ensuring they saw Blount’s arrival or heard the signal.
A large outcropping of oblong rocks stood on their sides, creating a ring-like alcove that would hide them in its shelter and shadow.
Though partially open to the sky, it rested on an angle where the tide couldn’t reach them even at its highest point.
They agreed that, during the night, only one of them should sit up at a time.
The likelihood of Blount’s arrival before morning was fortunately slim, and they needed rest.
“Why don’t you two sleep first?” Thom suggested as they settled into the alcove. “We need you both at the height of your powers if we are to have any chance.”
Though Ilain readily found a corner to curl herself away from the chilly sea breeze, Brea stayed by Thom’s side. “You’re cute when you’re concerned about people,” she teased as they sat.
“Cute?” Thom scowled in the darkness. “I don’t like that.”
Fondly, she smiled. “Wake me if you see something,” she instructed, then lay down beside him. “Goodnight, mi’caro.”
“Sleep tight, demoloba.”
She lifted her head, eyes narrowed.
“If you have a nickname for me, I get to have one for you,” he explained with a bright tone.
In the faint wash of moonlight, he watched Brea’s brow lift. “So you chose to call me ‘demonwolf’?”
“It’s fearsome,” he said. “And they scare the shit out of me, just like you.”