Chapter Forty-Nine
Evelyn
Evelyn and the team had traded a midnight-blue sea for a terra-cotta one. Waves of sand rippled across the horizon, and the dusty sky reflected a muted orange. Sand danced across the dunes, shimmering under the angry sun.
As she rode atop Bleu with Maxie curled in her lap, the scorching rays beat across Evelyn’s resolve, and she questioned if the Sun Goddess raged against what she’d done, as if this close to her temple, the deity spied her selfishness.
The bloodstone heated against her chest, the locked-away flame awakening in a land so reminiscent of the power Evelyn had once wielded at her fingertips.
They were on day two of their trek across the desert, and the blurry outline of a village sharpened on the horizon as they grew closer.
“Stars above, civilization,” Todd breathed.
Belle, riding a horse to Evelyn’s left, rolled her eyes. “I’m the one with a water bronntanas, and yet I haven’t complained once.”
“Please, can we rest for the afternoon?” Linx said from behind them. “As the team’s healer, I must advise that traveling in this heat for such long periods of time isn’t wise. We’d be better off resting, hydrating, and continuing our journey at night where the sun isn’t as angry as a scáth.”
Evelyn sighed and caught Kade searching her face.
He’d wrapped his hood close around his head, drawn his shirt up and over his nose and mouth, revealing only his golden eyes that stared at her in question.
It was her choice if they stopped, but the rest wasn’t for her, was it?
Truthfully, Evelyn couldn’t rest until she had magic back, but it wasn’t fair to make the others suffer.
They’d yet to encounter a demon or any other obstacle to delay their journey.
“Alright,” she breathed. “We rest and resume our journey after sundown.”
The mage village bustled with a central market.
Todd and Belle disappeared into the throngs of spice vendors and merchants while Linx excused herself to find an herbalist to restock her healer’s supply.
After a meal in the tavern, some much-needed time out of the sun, the team reconvened on the outskirts of the village near the stables.
They’d found shade under the rows of a farmer’s fig trees.
Kade and Evelyn had both agreed that not lingering in the market prevented unwanted sightings in the village.
At least Evelyn hadn’t spied wanted posters this far south. Yet.
“Now these”—Todd juggled the purple fruit—“are the type of snack I’m on board for.”
Evelyn laughed and turned to Kade. “Should we train a little, since we missed our usual morning session?”
“Let’s.” Kade tied his hair back from his face, twisting his golden waves into a bun.
Kade’s lack of apprehension about his power put a pep in Evelyn’s step. She shot him a pleased smile and began creating a makeshift target with stones, fallen tree branches, and a wine bottle she found sticking out of the sand. She planted her hands on her hips, gesturing towards the stack.
“You’re getting better at drawing it forth, so let’s work on your aim. Try to knock the bottle to the ground.”
Kade wiggled his fingers and stepped up to the challenge, but Evelyn guided him ten steps backward.
“There,” she said. “Now try.”
She’d placed him twice the distance away from the target compared to the proximity between him and the tentacle on the Sel.
It had been an impressive shot, but it was at close range, and it was best to train Kade on all the possibilities.
His enemy might stand a hundred yards across the battlefield.
Some fights called for different weapons—some a sword and others for a bow and arrow. Magic was much the same.
“I love your challenges, Ev.” Kade inhaled, chest rising as he set his sights on the bottle. Time traveling across the plains and at sea had deepened his sun-kissed tan to a golden-glow. Rugged and handsome, like all those months ago when they’d met in Callum.
The team stood off to the side, silent as they waited for him.
“Draw up the power like energy, but harness it, dictate where and how you use it. Don’t let it lead you, you lead it,” Evelyn said.
Kade nodded, not breaking his focus, but hearing her instruction all the same.
His fingers glowed first. The light pulsed pearly to blue, swirling around his fingers and hand, blue twinkling in the air.
Evelyn had seen nothing like it before. The uniqueness of Kade’s power made it all the more beautiful, and it suited him.
The dry air prickled with anticipation as Kade mounted more and more power in the palm of his hand until his digits disappeared from the sphere swirling ahead of him.
Silver rimmed the gold of his eyes, and Kade changed.
The energy of his power rippled from head to boots.
Shoulders straighter. Feet planted firmly into the sands.
Belle sprang to her feet, and Todd dropped his figs, cursing. Evelyn held her hand up for them to stop—if Kade sensed their unease, he’d lose the progress he’d made on his power.
Linx appeared at Evelyn’s side, making her jump. “He’s drawing too much.”
“He’s fine,” Evelyn said.
Linx frowned. “You can’t feel the magic in the air, Evelyn, but we can—”
“Trust in his power goes beyond him,” Evelyn hissed, hating how Linx mentioned her lack of magic and doubted Kade all in one sentence. “If all of you fear it, so will Kade.”
The mage seethed, crossing her arms and stepping back.
Todd positioned Belle behind him. The horses shifted on uneasy legs, yanking at their reins tied to the tree. Evelyn’s instinct pricked at the back of her neck, but she believed in Kade—he could do this.
Goddess, please.
Kade released the sphere. It landed on its mark, but as Linx had predicted, the energy was too much. The rock, branches, and bottle exploded, and the force ricocheted back. It blew Kade across the dunes, and the fig trees bowed against the sonic boom.
Evelyn internally cursed as she ran towards Kade and dropped at his side. He groaned, kneading his temples as he struggled to his knees.
“Kade, are you alright?” she asked.
He shook his head, eyes springing open. No silver remained. “I hit the target.”
Evelyn paused. “I suppose you did.”
“That sounds like there’s a but in there.” Kade peered up at her.
“Well . . .” She nibbled her lip, spying no injuries but bruised pride. “Your aim is good, but the amount of power you call upon we can continue to work on—”
Someone barreled into her, and pink blurred across her vision. Linx shoved her out of the way.
“You’re a fool for not listening to me.” Linx inspected Kade’s limbs, putting her hands on him. Evelyn’s ears rang. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t pinpoint the array of unwarranted emotions scorching through her. Who, in the fucking flames, did Linx think she was?
“Moons, I’m alright,” Kade said, pushing the healer at arm’s length. “I drew too much power—”
“No, you’re not alright.” Linx jabbed a finger into his chest. “She’s pushing you too far!”
She, as if Evelyn wasn’t standing right there—she saw red.
“He must learn it,” Evelyn yelled.
Linx whirled. “At his pace, not yours!”
“Stop,” Kade growled.
But Linx didn’t, she fisted her hands at her sides and crowded Evelyn’s space. Pebbles in the sand trembled. “Just because you don’t have your magic doesn’t mean you get to abuse Kade’s!”
Evelyn reared back as if Linx had slapped her.
“LINX!” Kade’s roar ripped across the sands, shaking Evelyn’s bones. He stepped between them, shielding Evelyn at his back. “Don’t talk to Evelyn that way. Ever.”
Linx’s catlike eyes flashed. She opened and closed her mouth, but her gaze landed on Evelyn as she said, “We’re not a team anymore because of her.”
Hurt shot through Evelyn at Linx’s words, and the sting didn’t stop. It bloomed. Reaching to her chest, belly, and bones. Her ailing body swallowed the insult, and Evelyn couldn’t hold back.
Evelyn stormed off. Head down. Gait quick.
She ignored Kade calling her name, finding the farthest fig tree and clutching the trunk for balance.
A sharp pain pierced her stomach, and Evelyn toppled forward, clutching her middle, but before she crumpled to her knees, strong, tentative arms caught her, and Evelyn and Kade fell to the ground together.
“Hey, look at me.”
“I’m fine,” Evelyn breathed, wiping away the tears she’d let escape.
No. No. No.
Strength, resilience, resolve. She grasped for them like weapons in her arsenal, but they slipped through her fingers like the sand beneath her boots. Evelyn couldn’t allow Kade to see her like this. She had to remain strong, rebellious against what fate handed her and forge ahead—
“It’s okay to not be okay, love.”
Kade’s words broke her, and Evelyn dug her face into his chest and cried.
“It hurts,” she whispered. “I hate that it hurts.”
Kade held her as she cried, letting the fears of the last weeks finally descend upon her. The bright sun mocked her, as if the Sun Goddess shot her immense power yet did nothing.
Evelyn pulled out of Kade’s hold, shaking her head and not meeting his stare.
“Linx is right—”
“She was out of line,” Kade growled.
“No, I’m asking too much of everyone. Especially you. I keep telling myself it’s alright, but the more I feel this—death—I can’t accept you taking the risk. If I truly die—”
“Then I die too. We are mated, Evelyn.”
Tears streamed down her face. “But our bond is broken. There might be a chance . . .”
Kade blinked, and every inch of him went rigid. “No,” he breathed. “I don’t accept that. I’ll not walk this world without you. I can’t—”
“Perhaps fate doesn’t care what we want,” Evelyn whispered, rising.
Kade grabbed her wrist, and his golden amber stare begged. “Ev . . .”
Evelyn swallowed her tears. “I just need some space. Alone. To think. Please.”
Her fated nodded, letting her go. More pain lodged in her throat.
She hated walking away, but Goddess, her mind whirled like a speeding wheel.
Evelyn didn’t stop until she’d ventured to the heart of the desert village and found the solitude of an alley.
She leaned her head against the wall, the shaded stone pleasant to the touch and cooling her heated exterior.
Evelyn screamed into the rock. Beat her fist against it.
Cursed the Sun Goddess for ignoring her prayers.
She’d been here before, in this unforgiving land vacant of green, water, or clouds, begging for her magic, fighting for it, only to be left sunburnt, ignored, and near such fatigue, she’d lost conscious on the temple’s altar, found by the desert mages who’d offered her refuge.
Why her? Rage twisted its nasty vines around her ankles and wrists, and for the first time in a long while, Evelyn’s defenses against doubt fell. A sob broke out from her. How did she make her fate a path and not an endless loop?
Evelyn slid down the rock and put her head between her knees. Breathe, she tried to tell herself. You can do this.
Something—two somethings—pressed into her shins. Soft, plush, small.
“Meow.”
Evelyn blinked and wiped tears from her eyes, finding Maxie rubbing her forehead into Evelyn’s legs.
“Oh, Maxie,” Evelyn said.
Maxie wiggled her nose. Flicked her tail.
And completely invaded Evelyn’s personal space as she climbed into her lap, assuming it as her position to sit and rest. A shadow fell over Evelyn, and a much larger beast nibbled her hair.
It tickled and Evelyn laughed, spying Bleu’s distinct coat in her peripherals.
“Hello to you, too,” Evelyn whispered.
Bleu snorted, shaking his head as if to say, You’re alright.
Her familiar’s purr vibrated through Evelyn’s taut being, and the sound and feeling calmed her racing heart. She pulled Maxie further into her chest, crying into her reddish fur.
This simple, tender moment had to give Evelyn hope, right?