Page 174 of Sword & Shadow
“From the beginning,” Hewitt said, confirming Deckard’s suspicion. “From the moment I saw you and your brother in my shop. I noticed your attention to her at dinner the previous evening, and I was assured of your regard by the way you spoke to her. It irked me, but unfortunately, it pleased her. A fact your brother didn’t fail to recognize either.”
Deckard nodded in understanding, but Hewitt kept speaking. “I saw the decision in his eyes then. The moment Evylin smiled at you, when you made her laugh, Thom noticed. And I watched his expression change.”
“What do—?”
“Your regard for one another is the only reason Thom felt anything,” Hewitt said. “He doesn’t love her. He’s jealous of your love for one another.”
Deckard’s brow pinched. “You mean to tell me that his feelings aren’t even real? That they’re born of competition with me rather than true affection for her?”
“That’s precisely what I’m saying.”
Deckard ran a hand through his hair.
“It’s one of the many reasons I would never have allowed him to marry her,” Hewitt said. “While I personally like him better than you, it’s only because you remind me of my own brother: perfect, charming, and false.”
Though Deckard bristled, Hewitt raised a hand. “I’ve learned that your intentions are far more honorable than my brother’s,but I’ll thank you to keep your objections to yourself. You lie—it’s your greatest failing and what makes you human. While you pretend to be high, mighty, and unfailingly good,Isee the truth: You’re as selfish as the rest of us.”
Taking a deep breath, Deckard held back his arguments. He wasn’t selfish. At every turn, he sacrificed for the greater good, and most often, for Evylin’s good. He knew that, and he didn’t need to convince Hewitt to confirm the truth.
“What were your other reasons?” Deckard asked, returning to the matter at hand.
Hewitt gave a terse grunt. “Most importantly, Evylin didn’t want him. A fact I made him aware of when he lamented his woes to me.”
A seething anger wrapped around Deckard’s chest at the revelation. “He told you?”
“Everything,” Hewitt confirmed, then scoffed. “And he had the gall to ask why I didn’t choose him.”
“What did you tell him?” Deckard asked, sympathy and satisfaction at war within him.
Hewitt hesitated. “I’ll be honest, I was weak. As I said, I saw myself in him, and I felt pity for the man I used to be. Thus, I told him the easiest truth to bear: He wasn’t the one she wanted.”
Deckard stared, open-mouthed and amazed thatthatwas the easiest truth.
“Had I been wise enough,” Hewitt’s thick brow descended heavily, “I would have given him the whole truth. Had Evylin not chosen you, had she been ambivalent or even preferred Thom, I still wouldn’t have allowed it.”
Deckard took a step back at the ferocity in Hewitt’s glare. The ghost pointed at the trees as though accusing Thom from afar. “He’s not man enough for my Evie. His self-conceit and arrogance disqualify him. Everything that makes him different from you, every last distinction, is the very reason I would neverchoose him. He couldn’t be the man she wanted; he couldn’t be worthy of her love. Becauseyouare the only one who can love her the way she deserves—the way sheneeds.”
The weight of the sentiment felt equal parts fulfilling and damning. Deckard desperately wished that Hewitt was right. He wanted to be that man for Evylin. Yet, he heard her voice in his head, her declaration,“You can’t make me happy.”
“Had I been strong enough,” Hewitt growled, drawing Deckard’s attention once again, “I would have told your brother that if he ever tried to take her from you, he would only prove his worthlessness, and I would personally see the rest of his days made a living hell for ruining her happiness.”
Deckard flinched. Hearing the rage in Hewitt’s voice made his own anger feel small, trivial, and insufficient. Yes, he was hurt. Yes, he wanted to rail at his brother. His basest instincts urged him to return to the days of their youth, when conflicts were resolved with fists. However, in the wake of Hewitt’s violent fury, Deckard found his passions tempered. He’d lost the ability to hold resentment toward Thom long ago. This was just one more wound in their long-scarred relationship.
And in truth, Deckard’s guilt outweighed his anger. He’d known of his brother’s infatuation as Hewitt had, and he’d done nothing to dissuade Thom. He hadn’t bothered to confront or resolve the hurt between them. In the end, Thom’s pursuit of Evylin was just as much Deckard’s fault as his brother’s.
“It’s good you didn’t tell him those things,” he said weakly. “It would have only made him try harder to prove himself.”
Hewitt narrowed his gaze, but Deckard continued before the ghost could comment on his dejected mood. “What do I do now?” he asked. “We’re days away from reuniting, but we’ve no idea if Thom’s said a word or not. How do we prepare for that? What’s even the point if Evylin doesn’t want—?”
“So this is what you’ve been doing,” a voice interrupted.
Deckard whirled around, finding Auden standing a handful of paces away. His dark brown coat blended with the trees while his red hair shone like a flare in the final, lingering light of dusk. He stepped into the clearing, expression taut. “Dealing with the dead?” he concluded.
Deckard’s heart seized.
Hewitt heaved an annoyed sigh. “This ought to be good,” he muttered.
“You’re going to get us killed,” Auden spat, eyes locked on Deckard. “Ilain told me—she warned me that you were interested in ghosts, but she said not to worry. She was so sure you wouldn’t go back on your word, yet here you are.”
