CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“I’ve been thinking,” Rafferty said, his foot dangling off a branch as he reclined against the tree trunk.
“Of course, you have,” Deckard remarked, sitting at the base of the tree, whittling at the chunk of pine he’d found in the woods two weeks ago at the beginning of their trio’s journey.
It was finally beginning to take shape now, becoming the small toy horse he envisioned.
Hewitt stood at his side, watching the road keenly.
Surrounded by mountains, Vaura Reach showcased a hilly, forested terrain.
They stood atop one such rise now, overlooking the land surrounding the Keep.
Together, Deckard and Auden had discovered the Time Keep’s location early the previous day.
Deckard had never experienced the low-lying sensation that could only be described as knowing that the Calders used to find the Keeps until that moment.
With minimal coaching, Auden had helped Deckard find the tug at his core, the pull guiding their steps.
Subsequently, they spent the remainder of the day scouting the area to ensure there were no ambushes lying in wait.
Today, Rafferty and Deckard had taken up the charge again.
When they were assured of their safety, they shifted to the role of lookout, watching for their troop on the highest hill they could find.
The thick stands of trees mostly obscured the road below.
Occasional riders drifted in and out of view, but none had yet matched that of their comrades.
“If the Time Relic gives Mages control over time,” Rafferty said, peering down at Deckard, “couldn’t we just go back and change it all?”
“Change what exactly?” Deckard asked, leaning against the trunk.
“The war,” Rafferty said. “That could be the Alliance’s whole plan. Get the Relic and turn back time, stopping the war altogether.”
Deckard shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Why, ’cause I suggested it? I’ll have you know that I knew Mages were real before the lot of you.”
He gave the man a flippant smile. “I’m not Thom. I don’t discount people’s ideas with offhanded dismissal.”
Rafferty snorted at the barb. “What’s your theory then?”
Eyes locked on the road, Deckard sighed.
He’d become numb to Rafferty’s constant questions and chatter.
No matter how inane or personal the queries got, Deckard had begun to answer them readily.
“The Alliance wouldn’t want to turn back time.
The Mages of Auld were corrupt; the Calders have said that themselves.
The Alliance doesn’t support their former regime.
They want to create a new world, one where Mages and Warriors bring balance to the world rather than lord their power over it. ”
Rafferty gave a bored hum, but Hewitt nodded. “Now you’re thinking like a leader,” the ghost said proudly.
Deckard didn’t let the praise go to his head. “Besides,” he added, “I don’t think there’s a Mage alive powerful enough to go back nearly two centuries. The amount of energy and focus that would take. . . .”
“Come to think of it,” Rafferty said thoughtfully, “none of them would be alive either. No one’s old enough to remember the start of the Centurial War. Why would they care to go back before their lives began?”
“Why indeed,” Deckard muttered, watching a small band appear on the road. Three . . . four . . . five riders appeared. He slumped back.
Sharing his disappointment, Rafferty grumbled on the branch above him. “We’ve been up here for the past three hours. Do you think we’ve chosen the wrong hill?”
“It’s the best vantage of the road we could find,” Deckard replied. “They just haven’t passed by yet.”
“They should be here by now,” Rafferty complained.
Hewitt grunted. “I should have beaten the impatience out of him.”
Unable to respond, Deckard only grinned dryly.
He crossed his arms, settling back against the tree to continue his woodworking project.
They’d left Auden at the camp to watch the horses and keep a body around in case the others slipped past Deckard and Rafferty’s notice, arriving at their destination unseen.
It was the first time since Auden’s discovery of Hewitt’s ghost that the Mage had allowed Deckard out of his sight.
Deckard supposed he couldn’t blame the man. His connection to Night worried him as well. But he was so close . . .
Despite Auden’s caution, he’d continued teaching Deckard, attempting to focus his training on Time and Day magic.
All the while, Deckard surreptitiously deepened his relationship with Night too.
As a result, he felt stronger than ever, ready to take on the Time Keep and reveal Hewitt’s ghost to Evylin.
Though he couldn’t deny the selfishness of the act, Deckard intended it as a gift alone. He knew what it would mean for her to see Hewitt again. Even if she couldn’t touch him, even if she saw him for just a moment, the ability to have that closure, to say a real goodbye—it would be priceless.
And if, in the end, Evylin still wanted to part ways, giving that gift to her would still be worth it.
Suddenly, Hewitt stepped forward just as Rafferty sat up. “I think I see them,” the weasel said, angling to get a better look.
Though Rafferty had made the same pronouncement half a dozen times already, Hewitt’s attention caused Deckard’s heart rate to spike.
He hurried to the edge of the hill, squinting at the thin tan line of the road stretching into the distance.
Four horses paced into view, their canter slowing. One rider broke away from the rest.
“That’ll be Loxley,” Rafferty said excitedly, “coming to find us.”
Deckard’s breath caught even as he smiled. “I imagine you’re right,” he said.
Dropping out of the tree, Rafferty landed with acrobatic precision. “Let’s go!” he exclaimed, taking off down the hill.
Deckard moved to follow, then hesitated. He turned back to Hewitt. “I can’t keep you with me,” he whispered. “I know you want to see her, too, but—”
“Go,” Hewitt said. “You can’t waste your energy maintaining my presence when it could mean her life or death later.”
Appreciative of the man’s understanding, Deckard let Hewitt lapse back into the ether.
Though he’d practiced enough that it took negligible thought and strength to hold Hewitt’s ghost in the present, it was still a feat of magic.
Upon the rest of their troop’s arrival, they would head straight to the Time Keep.
With the threat of Blount’s writ and Mages looming ever closer, they wanted to spend as little time in Wauld as possible.
They would retrieve the Relic, leave Vaura Reach, and abandon the country as fast as their horses would carry them.
Following Rafferty down the hill, Deckard struggled to keep his nerves in check.
The steep decline enabled a fast descent, but the roots and rocks could send him tumbling if he missed a step.
He was anxious to see Evylin; his whole being was charged with anticipation.
Just the thought of being near her again sent his heart spiraling.
But he couldn’t allow himself to forget the way they’d parted.
He couldn’t be so overcome with her return that he abandoned her desires.
No, Deckard promised himself that no matter how much he wanted to embrace Evylin, no matter how strong the urge to hold her close and kiss her, he would refrain until she gave him some sign that she wanted it too.
Rafferty beat Deckard to the camp with ease. When Deckard broke through the trees, his companion stood in the alcove, foot tapping impatiently. “They’re not here yet,” he grumbled.
Auden stood by, anxiously pacing. “Rafferty said you saw them,” he said at Deckard’s appearance.
“We did,” Deckard confirmed, catching his breath. “Ethenn broke away to find us. They should be here any time.”
A joyful smile crossed Auden’s face. “They’re safe, then,” he murmured. He looked over their meager camp. “We should prepare. We want to leave immediately.”
“We’ve been apart for two weeks,” Deckard objected.
“And we’ll have a true reunion once we’re safe in Ephria,” Auden insisted, beginning to pack his saddlebags.
Deckard and Rafferty exchanged a disgruntled look. “Some celebration,” the weasel muttered.
Though Deckard agreed, he moved to help Auden. They tore down the tent, put out the fire, stored the cooking supplies, and packed the last of their personal possessions. And yet, the others still hadn’t arrived.
“Shall we clip the grass while we wait?” Rafferty asked, perturbed.
“Shh.” Deckard held up a hand, listening. The faintest rumble met his ears. He smiled. “I hear horses.”
Deckard turned toward the sound, heart in his throat. The sound grew louder, filling the alcove with its steady beat. The flash of four horses appeared in the trees seconds before they burst into the clearing. Deckard’s hands shook, his feet taking him an unconscious step forward.
“Auden!” Ilain called, her horse charging ahead of the others. She practically jumped from the saddle and into her brother’s arms. They laughed in relief, clinging to one another.
The three Ephrians showed more decorum, though they all bore large smiles as they dismounted.
Rafferty dashed forward to greet his friends.
He punched Thom on the arm, slapped Ethenn on the cheek, and swept Evylin into a fierce hug.
“Allore, I’ve missed you three!” he said with a wily grin.
“It’s been the most boring two weeks of my life. ”
Deckard’s heart filled at the sound of Evylin’s laughter. Cautiously, he joined the group. “And here I thought we’d become such good friends,” he said to Rafferty.
“We are friends, Colonel,” Rafferty said with a flippant wave of his hand. “But even when you’re fun, you’re not as fun as this lot.”