Chapter 14 #2
“No,” he said quickly. “Come on. I’m sure we can find one of those.”
Breaking my gaze, he led the red mare away, Whisper trotting behind its hooves. Exhausted and aching, I trailed after him, adjusting my eyes to the night as we approached a nearby field to rob the poor farmers of their steeds.
Seth halted abruptly. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “For saving Percy.”
“It wasn’t the most elegant rescue.” I huffed, glad to be stopping. “We were supposed to be sitting by a fire with wine right now, listening to Percy slander you in a heart-wrenching ballad.”
“He did mention having a second song, didn’t he?”
“A more traditional crooning over your break-up, I’d imagine.”
The corners of Seth’s mouth twitched. “I do feel . . . a bit bad about what happened.”
“What did happen?”
Seth paused, tugged the horse’s reins, and continued walking. “I abandoned him.”
“I gathered as much.” Burning pain traced across my chest as we walked. “Why?”
He sighed. “Percy shouldn’t be out here. He should be at home. I thought I’d be doing him a favor, but I should have known he’d be too stubborn to do the right thing.”
“What do you mean?”
Seth’s brow lowered in thought. “It’s not my place to spill his secrets. Ask him. He’ll tell you.”
I tried to read between the lines of his words and expressions, wondering if Percy had a family or obligations he’d left behind. Seth’s tone revealed little save a worry for his friend. Pain flared in my chest again, and I doubled over, face torn in a grimace.
Seth grabbed my arm, steadying me. “Are you alright?”
“No,” I choked. “Hurts.”
He tilted his head. “Have you ever moonlit as a horse thief?”
“Surprisingly, no.” I gasped. “I didn’t leave the city much.”
Nodding, Seth whistled. Whisper’s ears shot up, and the hound hurried to my side, sitting on my feet. “Protect the lady, boy.” He released my arm. “I’ll steal your horse for you.”
Handing me the horses’ reins, he jogged into the night. Grateful, I sank to the ground and tried to sort through my thoughts.
I could stop the Empty. I could enter the Empty. Why?
And how had rumors about me spread? As a child, I’d been stupidly wandering the woods when the Empty had cleaved across the land toward me. Ainwir had appeared in the nick of time, sweeping me into his arms and carrying me to safety, running far faster than my short legs could have managed.
I’d sworn the Empty had receded from my touch, but I’d never shared my flights of fancy with anyone but . . .
Ainwir.
The masked nobleman had implied that Ainwir’s timely intervention was no coincidence. But . . . what did that mean? If Ainwir had known about my magic, why had he simply taken me on as an apprentice, nothing more?
My head hurt too much to think right now. Wrapping my arms around Whisper, I tried to drown out the sound of the wind, the insects, the distant rushing of the stream.
Pure silence had enveloped me in the Empty, devoid of senses, of breath. In a way, it had been . . . comforting.
The keres beckoned us to join them in oblivion. Free from suffering, from strife.
Whisper growled, and I raised my head to see Seraphim’s black mare approaching. Eleos slid off its back, a flurry of words tumbling from his mouth.
“I’m sorry! Seraphim and I remembered you’re injured, and aren’t fit to ride, and—” He closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “With everything that’s happened, I’ve been distracted.”
I almost didn’t recognize his voice. No matter the danger we’d faced, Eleos’ voice had always been even and calm. Though hints of worry or anger had crept into his tone, never had it overtaken his unflappable attitude.
For the first time since we’d met, he finally sounded shaken. Worried.
“It’s alright,” I said, laughing. “I forgot, too. And I’m the one with the wounds.”
Eleos dropped beside me, sitting with the heaviness of someone utterly overwhelmed. “A chthonic psyche. Callesis must hate us.”
“He blessed Percy.”
“Did he?” Eleos spat. “Callesis gifted him magic, but little else.” He paused. “If the other gods give their blessings, why not the Maiden Brizo? Maybe we just don’t understand her magic, I thought. Maybe there’s still hope.”
Turning my hands over, I studied the lines of my palms. I’d spent so long living in a hovel, surviving on scraps, the mere thought I could be capable of anything more struck me as ridiculous.
“Everyone wants to believe she’ll come.” Eleos continued, staring forward into the night.
“But nothing in this world happened without people. Everything we have blossomed from us. Parents toil for children who’ll long outlive them, and architects work on grand edifices they’ll not live to see completed. Why should salvation be any different?”
Frowning, I recalled how harshly he’d denied belief in the Maiden. Those who spurned the gods often drew their spite from tragedies the gods should never have allowed to pass.
Flexing my hands, I recalled the moment I’d halted the abyss, and the churning emotions in my chest. “Do you think there are others who wield the Maiden’s blessing?”
“. . .I don’t know. I hope so.”
“I don’t know how to control it.”
“No mage does, at first.” He smiled. “We have plenty of time to learn.”
Twisting to face him, I scanned his features, the dark lashes and soft brown waves. “How long were you stalking me? Was it really only two weeks?”
“I was not stalking you, Lady Aethra. Frankly, it’s a miracle I ever found you.”
“Hm. Alright.” I chuckled. “I wonder what would have happened had you knocked.”
“So do I.”
Closing my eyes, I collapsed against his side, burying myself in my cloak. Eleos fell silent. A calm breeze stirred the hills, tugging my curls away from my shoulders.
Forgotten magic, the end of the world . . . topics too grand for a simple con woman.
“Do you have a hobby?” I blurted out.
“What?”
“A hobby. Something you do when you find yourself with unexpected free time.”
Taken aback by the sudden question, Eleos stared at me like I’d hit my head before answering. “I read.”
“You read?” I arched an eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“Yes. What did you want me to say? That I carouse at the local taverns?”
“I would be very surprised to hear that.”
He laughed. “There’s so much more in this world than any man could hope to learn in a lifetime. I never tire of it.”
“Okay.” I closed my eyes. “What did you read about last?”
I felt the muscles in his arms relax. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the time. I think it was about the history of leather-working in northern Cynthus.”
Snorting, I leaned off him.
“What?” Eleos demanded. “They have a unique technique there. Clearly, you’ve never had the pleasure of buying one of their cloaks.”
Giggling, I unfolded myself and stood. “Nothing. You’re just cute.”
Frowning, he rose and planted a hand on his hip. “Fine. What do you do for fun?”
“I pick flowers,” I said, shrugging. “Not very exciting, I know. But it’s all I have time for.” Taking a deep breath, I brushed off my dress. “We should get back to the others.”
When I looked back at Eleos, his eyes had drifted away. Distracted, he strode a few paces down the hill and knelt before returning to my side. A little red poppy, freshly plucked, was tucked between his fingers.
“Flowers suit you,” he said, brushing aside my curls to tuck the flower into my hair. He parted my strands gently, folding the stem into a little braid to keep the blossom steady.
My hand trembled as I reached up to touch it. A swell of emotions washed over me, and tears burned in my eyes, though I had no reason to cry. Swallowing, I glanced away, hiding my face.
I knew how to read people. Attraction, most of all. Whether it was lust or a more innocent interest, I could see it in men’s eyes. But even when off the job, such gazes had been shallow, intended only to lure me into their bed. What did a man look like when he yearned for something more?
No, I was reading too far into things. Feelings followed lust. Never the other way around. And I’d never seen Eleos look at me with a hint of desire.
“Are you alright, Lady Aethra?” He asked gently.
“Mhm,” I nodded, wiping my eyes. He stared at me in concern, brows lowered. He didn’t understand.
I didn’t either.
Whisper’s tail thumped against my leg. The dog stood at attention, tail flying furiously, gaze fixed at the lone rider galloping toward us.
Mounted atop a gorgeous blonde mare with a flowing white mane, Seth guided the stolen horse to me and gestured with playful theatrics.
“Well, princess?” He asked. “Will this steed do?”
Wiping the moisture from my eyes, I laughed. “She’s perfect.”