CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR #3
Deckard almost smiled at his brother’s obvious attempt to be a better man but felt too off-kilter after Auden’s agitation and this new revelation.
He sighed, giving Ethenn a forgiving nod.
“I understand,” he said peaceably. “The truth is, I doubt it would have made a difference. We were all too tired to do much good at that point. Our chances of escape weren’t high.
Given the circumstances, I’d say this is the best outcome we could have hoped for. ”
“The best—” Auden let out an angered huff. “Blount has four Relics now!”
“And don’t you think it’s a miracle that Jonn managed to keep the Night Relic from him too?” Ilain said, coppery brow raised.
“Excuse me,” Jarrad said, lifting a hand in a little wave.
The Calders turned to stare long-sufferingly at him. Emmaas gave a resigned sigh as he continued to sharpen the collection of daggers he’d pulled from his person.
“A few questions for you—” Jarrad began ticking them off as he spoke. “First, you said the Warrior—Evylin? Yes. Evylin didn’t want her husband, the Mage. Jonn or Deckard? I’m losing track of the names.”
Isla glared at him. “His name is Jonn Deckard.”
Jarrad gave her a baffled look. “Then why does his brother call him by his last name?”
“I don’t always,” Thom defended.
Deckard pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just call me Deckard.”
“Right.” Jarrad snapped his fingers and went back to his question. “So Mrs. Warrior didn’t want Mr. Mage because . . . grief? But then something about a ghost convincing her not to annul their marriage? How does that work?”
Isla pressed her fingers to her temples as though staving off a headache. “You are the worst,” she mumbled.
“All in a day’s work, love,” Jarrad said, patting her shoulder. When nobody attempted to answer him, he tried again. “I can restate the question if you’d prefer.”
“There isn’t really anything to say,” Deckard replied. “Evylin was dealing with the loss of her uncle, and it took some time for us to work through it together. Unknowingly, I summoned her uncle’s ghost, which is why Auden is angry.”
“That’s not the reason I’m angry,” Auden argued.
“Let’s stay on track here,” Jarrad interjected, then turned back to Deckard and Evylin. “Why would Auden think you’d be annulling your marriage?”
Deckard rubbed his hands together while Evylin chewed on her bottom lip, neither of them willing to admit the truth.
Ilain grimaced. “That might be because I told him they were.”
“Ilain!” Evylin gasped.
“I’m sorry!” Ilain’s shoulders nearly brushed her ears with the exaggeration of her shrug. “I tell him everything. I didn’t think he’d go announcing it.”
“Well, I don’t know what the Ephrian laws are,” Jarrad remarked, “but they sure as hell can’t get an annulment here.”
Silence met the statement as the group struggled to understand his meaning. Deckard dropped his head in his hands. While he hadn’t exactly been opposed to the troop finding out about their reconciliation, he hadn’t anticipated revealing that part of their resolution.
At the man’s words, Rafferty collapsed into a fit of laughter. Jarrad, Isla, and Emmaas watched the man’s hysterics with confusion. Thom stared pointedly at the fire. Ethenn stared at his friend, puzzled. Auden blanched, and Ilain said with strange excitement, “Really?”
Evylin wrapped her arms around herself as though trying to hide. “Can we please move on?” she asked irritably.
“Well, I have another question,” Jarrad offered.
“I don’t think I want to hear it,” Evylin shot back.
Jarrad waved her off. “It’s not about that,” he promised. “You said something about a ghost . . . Where is it?”
Everyone turned to Deckard.
Deckard sighed. “I can summon him if you’d like,” he offered. “I’m tired, but with the Night Relic, I think I could make him visible to everyone.”
“Yes, please,” Jarrad said with obvious enthusiasm. He gave Isla a pleased look. “I’ve always wanted to meet a ghost.”
With a glance at Evylin to ensure she was prepared, Deckard gathered his focus and willed Hewitt to appear.
A flush of warmth spread up his spine, then receded, leaving behind a dull ache.
He was getting dangerously tired again. While he hadn’t expended much magic over the last several days, his weak and worn-out body wasn’t able to support the surge much longer.
But Hewitt was there, standing at his side as big, burly, and stoic as ever. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.
“Wow,” Jarrad remarked lightly. “He looks so real.”
Hewitt turned, taking in the rest of the camp. “And who are these lot?”
“Alliance members,” Deckard explained. “They saved us, and now we’re traveling to their headquarters.”
“Mm.” Hewitt crossed his arms. The evening waned, only his figure unable to cast a shadow in the vibrant remains of sunset. He looked beyond Deckard to smile at Evylin. “Are you well?”
“Yes,” she promised.
“This is the uncle?” Jarrad asked.
Hewitt stared at him skeptically. “Who are you?”
“Name’s Jarrad Hoult,” he said casually. “And you are?”
“Hewitt Glaas.”
“Pleasure.”
Hewitt turned away. “What am I doing here?”
“Well, that was on my request,” Jarrad said. “I was curious: What’s your purpose here?”
Deckard blinked, surprised at the Terrae Mage’s decisive interest. Isla perked up even as Auden scowled. “That’s irrelevant,” the highlord grumbled.
“It’s not,” Isla said, kindly contradicting him. “Obel said that so long as the purpose is honorable, the risk to the Mage is greatly lessened.”
“I don’t trust Obel,” Auden said, and Deckard realized he recognized the name. He couldn’t remember from where, but he’d heard it—and possibly that exact sentence—before.
Isla gave him a small smile. “Vayden does,” she said. “So do I.”
Agitated, Hewitt spoke before the rest of them could. “I’m here for one reason, and one reason alone: to ensure Evylin is happy and cared for.” He took in the way Evylin sat comfortably with Deckard’s arm around her and nodded. “As I find that to be the case, I’m ready to go.”
“What?” Deckard and Evylin said together.
Hewitt settled them with a gentle but serious stare.
“Back in Whickam Village, I would have sworn an afterlife was merely rhetoric to make people feel good about death, but . . .” His eyes rose to scan the camp.
“After Mages, Warriors, ghosts, and Relics, I’m rather certain there’s more to life than anything I could dream up.
And if there’s a chance that I can get back to my Irena and Ryen, I’m taking it. ”
Deckard drew in a long breath as Evylin slumped against his side. “You want me to release you?” he asked, sorrow etching his voice. After all this time, he couldn’t fathom letting the man go.
“I do,” Hewitt said with determination.
Reluctantly, Deckard nodded. “Very well, but . . .” He turned to Auden. “I don’t know how.”
While Auden considered the question, Isla spoke up. “None of us can teach you that,” she said. “However, where we’re going, we have just the man for that job.”
Auden scowled again but didn’t argue the point.
“When we arrive tomorrow,” Isla continued, “I’ll make a request for you to meet with Highlord Obel. I guarantee he’ll be able to help you. And if you summoned a ghost unintentionally,” she shrugged, “it sounds like you could use his training too.”
Deckard didn’t know whether to be grateful or afraid of what that meant.
More training meant a deeper connection to Night.
And despite his determination to keep Hewitt around, he had to admit that Auden’s warnings concerned him.
What if he were predisposed to this Deep they’d talked about?
If he could accidentally summon a ghost, what else could he do?
Running a hand through his hair, Deckard’s exhaustion hit him full force. He looked up at Hewitt. “I don’t have the strength to keep you here anymore.”
The ghost’s gray eyes flicked to Evylin’s, then he nodded.
Deckard let him lapse away, easing the strain on his mind.
He addressed Auden. “I’m not giving the Night Relic to Rafferty,” he said, hurrying to continue before Auden could protest. “I won’t use it, but it’s safer with me.
I know it’s hard for you but try to trust my nature more than you distrust Night’s.
The Relic doesn’t affect me the way it affects others. ”
Jarrad tapped his fingers thoughtfully along his knee but remained silent.
Auden sighed. “All right . . .” He flexed his hands as though trying not to fist them. “But once we get back to Ephria—”
“I’ll happily give it up,” Deckard promised.
With a final nod of acceptance, Auden backed away. An awkward silence remained as everyone attempted to return to their business. Thom took it upon himself to bring an end to the discomfort by announcing that the meal was ready.
Deckard watched knowingly as his brother helped everyone fill their bowls before he took his own meal. It was clear that he was already working to become a new man, while at the same time being more Thom than he had ever been before. It made Deckard proud.
The dinner helped them all to slip back into easy conversation.
They learned more about Emmaas and Jarrad, discovering they had families in Wauld too.
While Emmaas was an Ephrian by blood, he was born and raised in Schon, as his many-times great-grandfather had crossed the sea during the Auldan Mages’ eradication of the Warriors in the late 1100s.
It became quickly evident that he was far older than he looked when he told them about his family, most of whom remained in the Schonese Empire.
He was a widower with three grown daughters who had families and grandchildren of their own.
Only two of Emmaas’s grandchildren had relocated to Wauld with him when he’d chosen to join the Alliance, thanks to one of their agents who worked in Schon to recruit the Warriors who had escaped to its shelter, as well as the few Mages born there.