CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
After another hour of planning, the sun had dipped low in the sky, casting a rusty haze over the woods.
The Relics were passed out—Night to Brea, Wind to Isla, Terrae to Ethenn, and Space to Deckard.
Ilain sat with Vayden, giving him the exact directions through the palace grounds and the halls containing the known secret entrances and passages.
Ethenn and Brea covered themselves in extra weapons, preparing for every eventuality. Even Vayden added extra daggers to his person, carrying Brea’s old bow and quiver as well. And while Deckard tightened the buckle on his sword belt, he removed his moonstone ring.
“You’re not wearing your ring?” Evylin asked in surprise.
A strange emotion flowed from Deckard, and she sensed it was something between determination and resignation.
“We already discussed this plan,” he said.
“If we want to trick Blount, he can’t know I’m a Mage.
I’ll avoid using my magic for as long as possible, and when the time comes,” he tucked the ring into her hand, wrapping her fingers around the stone and metal, “I’ll simply summon it back. ”
Evylin smirked. “You’re quite welcome for that discovery.”
He gave her a wry smile and turned to the team. “While I’d like to say I have no doubts about this plan’s success, I’m afraid I’m not that confident in myself. However,” his chin rose as he surveyed each of them, “I am confident in each of you.”
A swell of pride filled Deckard’s manner. “Together, we’ve survived seven Keeps. We’ve fought Guardians and Shades, Mages and mercenaries. We’ve evaded Blount six times now. Whatever comes of this day, we will survive this too.”
“Don’t get sappy on us, Colonel,” Rafferty said despite an unusually weak grin on his lips.
Deckard gave him a nod. “Let’s end this war, shall we?”
With resounding fervor, the troop agreed before moving to exchange their farewells. Vayden pulled Ilain into a long, protective hug. They whispered to one another, tears coming to their eyes, likely sharing the memory of Auden. Isla was at their side, gently rubbing circles on Ilain’s back.
Thom, Rafferty, and Ethenn stood in a circle, giving each other masculine pats on the shoulders until Thom rolled his eyes and swept both men into one massive hug. “I love you idiots,” he said.
Ethenn flushed lightly, muttering, “You too,” while Rafferty rolled his eyes and shoved out of Thom’s grasp.
“I preferred you when you were emotionally stunted,” he said.
Evylin shook hands with Vayden and hugged Isla. Brea gave Evylin some final advice, then offered a kind farewell before turning to Thom.
“Be safe, mi’caro,” she said.
“You too, demoloba,” Thom replied.
One of her eyebrows lifted. “If we make it out of this alive, you’re going to come up with a better nickname for me.”
He smirked. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”
For a moment, Brea looked about to hug him. Then she slapped his cheek instead. “Te’idita pé ai’amós,” she said rapidly.
Thom’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t catch all of that.”
“You weren’t supposed to.” Brea winked and walked away.
Evylin eyed Thom, but Ethenn stepped before her nervously, and she turned to the young man.
“I, uh—” He cleared his throat and started again. “I hope this isn’t the end,” he said. “You’ve become rather important to me and . . .”
In his bashful silence, Evylin reached forward and pulled him into a hug. He tensed, all his muscles taut under her embrace. “We’re family, remember?” she said, and he noticeably relaxed. “That makes you quite important to me too.”
Slowly, cautiously, Ethenn returned the hug. “Be careful, please,” he whispered.
“Only if you are,” she teased.
They parted, sharing small smiles.
Evylin turned to share her last farewell, expecting to find Deckard at her side.
Instead, he stood off at the far end of the clearing with Rafferty.
They talked quietly, but there was something strangely serious in their mannerisms. Then Rafferty sniggered, and Deckard rolled his eyes.
They shook hands, and Deckard stepped away.
Evylin would have watched his approach, but Ilain came to stand before Ethenn, where he lingered near Evylin’s side. The Fire Mage stopped an arm’s length away, but Ethenn still took an uncomfortable step back.
Ilain held Ethenn’s stare undaunted. “If there’s a chance I’m going to die today, I’d like you to know something.”
Ethenn clenched his jaw but listened in silence.
“You are enough,” she said. “No matter what anyone else tells you, no matter what you’ve done or who you were before, you are enough. For me and everyone else.”
Ethenn’s brow furrowed, and his expression remained tight. “That’s kind of you to say,” he muttered.
“I’m not trying to be kind,” Ilain said in that haughty manner of hers. Then her lips lifted in her signature wry grin. Her eyes twinkled with a knowing glint. “Do try to make it back to me, love. I’d be awfully disappointed if you didn’t.”
Despite Ethenn’s baffled expression, Ilain turned on her heel, offered Deckard a quick farewell, and headed to her horse.
While the rest of the troop chuckled awkwardly at the exchange, Deckard’s hand on Evylin’s arm drew her attention to him.
She looked up at him as regret and longing crashed into her like the waves against the shore.
Instantly, she leaned against his chest as he enfolded her in his arms. His wool coat was rough against her cheek.
He smelled of dirt and sweat, but it was oddly comforting.
They’d been on the road for so long that the unwashed scent reassured her, knowing he was there.
Deckard pressed his lips to her temple, drawing her closer. She could feel the Space Relic beneath his coat, pressing against her collarbone. “Don’t die,” he whispered. “Please, don’t die.”
Dismay leached from his soul into hers. His fingers rubbed circles against her back, creating little spikes of magic to radiate across her skin.
And yet, she knew, as desperately as they clung to one another, they were made for this.
Bonded and powerful, they could change the world.
While Deckard had worked so hard to give her the life she desired, for once, she would grant him the deepest secret of his heart.
She would help him become more than simply an imitation of Euon Sergus.
Evylin would help Deckard be the man who made the difference for their people.
With no use for words, Evylin drew back just enough to lift her lips to his. Whatever promises she made, whatever platitudes she spoke, they would fade into nothingness. Only action lived forever.
So she kissed him for far longer and with far greater passion than was appropriate for the moment.
Surrounded by trees, their friends, and the destiny ahead of them, Evylin reassured him of her love and her dedication through her caress.
It was a promise that, today, they would fight and win.
They would survive and change the nation together.
Deckard ended the kiss before she was ready, resting his forehead against hers. He cupped the back of her neck, his fingers tangled in her hair. “I love you,” he whispered.
Evylin opened her eyes to meet his green-blue gaze. “I love you.”
Deckard’s thumb grazed her jaw. He pulled away. It felt like her body split in two when she separated from him. But she forced herself to join Thom, Ilain, and Rafferty at the horses.
Together, they watched the other five members of their troop mount up. The negotiation party would wait in the trees, giving Deckard and the others time to get into the city.
Evylin’s eyes followed Deckard’s every movement until he was out of sight, affixing his moonstone ring to the silver chain of her rosette necklace.
And even then, she tracked their progress, feeling their soul-tie grow like a spool unraveling in her chest. The thread of his presence extended, but it didn’t waver.
She tracked him the entire way and felt when he took a short pause a mile east of their location.
Then there was a jog toward the city walls.
And then a flash of power came, surging deep within her core.
“It’s time,” Evylin said, knowing he’d just teleported them into the city.
Evylin, Thom, Ilain, and Rafferty mounted their own horses and left the woods, taking the wide road to Ephria City. While Rafferty chatted as usual, she was too busy tracking Deckard’s progress. It would be slow. With or without a shroud, they’d have to move carefully through the city.
The golden sun dipped below the horizon. Evylin tensed as they approached the war camp’s border. Several soldiers in dented and dirty armor affixed to their wool coats and bearing pikes stepped forward. One raised his hand, halting them.
“In the name of King Blount, I demand to know who approaches,” the soldier said in a Waulden accent.
“Don’t you recognize us?” Ilain crooned pleasantly.
The soldiers exchanged confused looks. “No,” the leader said.
“You should,” she quipped. “His Majesty has a writ out on us. Granted, it’s only Evylin’s and my likenesses so kindly displayed.”
The Waulden men bore up in sudden understanding. “You mean—”
Ilain interrupted with a flourish of her hand. “I,” she set her hand on her chest, “am Highlady Ilain Calder, ViceMage of the Order of the Flame and Pyra’s Heiress.”
“Do you think you’re still the viceMage?” Thom asked lightly. “I would’ve thought they’d fired you by now.”
Ilain ignored him. “This,” her hand swept to Evylin, “is Private Evylin Deckard. And behind us are our friends, Captain Deckard and Corporal Rafferty.”
“Pleasure,” Rafferty said with a mock salute.
“We’d like to speak with His Majesty about terms of surrender on behalf of the Alliance,” Ilain concluded.
The soldiers snapped into action, and Evylin smirked at their sudden baffled anxiousness. The head soldier began giving orders, sending for their general. He ordered the quartet off their horses and instructed the other soldiers to bind them.