Chapter 46 Evander
Chapter forty-six
Evander
It was early, not yet dawn, but Evander lay awake on his cot. Exhausted as he was, sleep evaded him.
Today, he would see Valenna. Hold her in his arms, kiss her, he hoped. Hear her voice. But his anxiety stifled his anticipation.
What if Haldir killed another conscript and he couldn’t prevent their wrath? What if the rest of the crew turned on Valenna? How could he protect her from these reckless, vengeful youths with nothing to lose?
The crickets chirping in the grass were like fingernails on slate; in the tent next to his, someone snored like a saw on a tree trunk.
His thoughts ran in circles—a dog chasing its tail.
Finally, Evander threw the blankets aside and sat up, then leaned his elbows on his knees.
Yawning, he got up and dressed, shrugging on his uniform over his magic shirt and donning his coat.
He’d sent to Silvanlight for his belongings, and they’d arrived in a box that morning—his old leather jacket, soft with wear, a novel he’d begun before he left, and his glasses.
Even without his headaches, he found he still needed them for reading.
Evander crossed to the tent flap and opened it, but as he stepped onto the grass, he bumped into something soft and let out a shout of surprise.
Raska filled the tent opening, staring at him, her head tilted.
“Raska?” Evander grunted. “Where have you been?”
Raska’s feathers were no longer glossy black, but a mangy charcoal gray. They stuck out at odd angles, and she was covered in bald patches.
“Are you molting?” Evander asked.
The bird hung her head as though ashamed.
Threatened by battles and assassinations and the horror hiding in Barrimore Heights, Evander found he didn’t fear Raska like he used to. Let her try to take him to Ashkendor; he’d defeated serpents, spirits, and his own wild hydra. He could handle a disheveled old bird.
“You could have snatched me a dozen times by now. Why didn’t you?” he asked. “Am I too heavy for you?”
If a bird could roll its eyes, Raska would have. Instead, she drooped her leathery eyelids, affecting an expression of incredulity.
“Move. I have work to do.”
Raska stood frozen, her beak slightly open and her pink tongue visible.
Evander drew his knife, preparing to cut her if she attempted to grab him in her talons. She made no such attempt; instead, she nipped at his wrist. He jerked it away.
“What was that for?”
She tried a second time, her beak scraping on his marriage scar.
Irritated, Evander shouldered past her, and she squawked indignantly. Shaking his head, he turned his back to Raska and ambled down to the dragon barn. She didn’t follow him.
It wasn’t far to Barrimore Heights; a day of flying, a night in the mountains, and then a night to pass through the Crag on the way back.
If the weather was good, they’d arrive at the border of the Scathmore Barrens in two days.
If they flew across the Strait of Hethria, the journey would be shorter, but they needed to stay hidden.
Evander unlocked a tack room at the end of the barn.
The door was divided in half, and he shut the bottom behind him so the light from the lanterns would spill in.
He was checking the equipment, ensuring the leather tethers were waxed, the buckles free of rust, the knives and cutlasses sharpened, when footsteps scraped on the dirt floor.
Valenna stood outside, wringing her hands. She looked gaunt and nervous, and when she spoke, her voice was husky.
“Vander, I know you’re disappointed in me,” she said. “I know I did a terrible thing … but if you’d been in my place … I love you so, so much, and I couldn’t just stand there and watch …”
He didn’t wait for her to finish. He vaulted over the half door and wrapped her in his arms. She went a little stiff, then melted into him, her hands gripping his shirt. She smelled different, like she had on that battlefield so many years ago.
“Just tell me you’re alright,” he said. “That’s all I need to hear.”
She didn’t reply, just buried her face in his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his body.
He stroked her hair, kissed the top of her head. “You don’t need to be alright.”
She laughed softly, sniffling. “I’m fine, my love. And you?”
“I’m just missing you and worrying over you.”
She searched his face, brushing a wave of hair from his brow. “No more headaches?”
Smiling, he leaned down and touched his forehead to hers. “Not one.”
Valenna let out a long sigh. “Thank the Only. But you cannot be here, Van. If my father finds out who you are … Of all the times you’ve run, and this is when you decide to stay?”
“I’ve reversed the habit. From now on, I only run toward you.”
“Can’t you go back to Silvanlight?”
“I can’t leave the Cobblepine conscripts. They need me, whether they want my help or not. And it is partially my fault that they’re here.”
She winced. “Are you angry at me?”
“Do I look angry at you?” he asked, placing his palm on her cheek and caressing her cheekbone with his thumb. “I don’t like what you did, Val. I cannot say I wouldn’t have done the same in your place. I understand.”
Words rushed out of her, frantic and staccato. “I just couldn’t bear to watch you die. Especially when it was my magic that made you ill. I made my father promise he would leave the sanctuary alone, I really did, and I knew he wouldn’t keep his promise, but I tried. I swear I tried.”
“Come here,” Evander said, tilting up her chin and kissing her soft lips. “Right now, it’s just you and me in the whole world. Nothing else matters. When the sun rises, we’ll look our mistakes in the face, but right now we’re together, where we belong, and that’s enough.”
“I've missed you,” she breathed, brushing her lips against his. “I’ve missed you so badly I couldn’t breathe.”
“Then let’s never be parted again,” he replied. He kissed her neck. “Let’s get through this so we can go home together.”
He pulled her into the tack room, shut both doors, wedged a barrel of feed against them, and then spread a blanket on the ground.
“Only if you want,” he said.
Valenna laughed. “Yes, Vander. I want to.”
Smiling, he grasped the back of her neck and pulled her into another kiss.
They sank onto the blanket and found one another again.