Page 31 of Sword & Shadow
Deckard shook his head. “No, I don’t mean the cold,” he whispered. “Areyouall right? After what happened to...what happened in Ephria?”
Realizing that he meant Hewitt’s death, Evylin paused. Was she all right? Strangely, she hadn’t been thinking much about Hewitt for the last two days, not more than in passing. And while she still sensed the sorrow of his absence deep within her, she couldn’t quitefeelit, not since the soothing presence of Day had been with her.
Evylin placed her hand on Deckard’s arm, rubbing reassuringly. “I promise, I’m just fine. I’m still grieving, of course, but...I think I’m ready to live again.”
The pinch returned to his brows, unsure if he should believe her.
Endeared by his concern, Evylin planted a small, quick kiss on his bristly chin. Then she tucked her head back against his chest and snuggled close. “Thank you for taking care of me,” she whispered.
Several seconds passed before Deckard relaxed, his embrace drawing her closer. “Always.”
Of that, Evylin had no question. Deckard would always be there with her. He would always care for her. And so long as she had him, she could be happy.
CHAPTER EIGHT
35TH OF GALATAE, 1574
Wauld had officially made Thom’s list of worst places to visit. In his five years of being a soldier, he’d journeyed across the greater land of Ephria, finding only small settlement after small settlement. That had made his life feel immeasurably less grand than he’d hoped. How could such a vast world hold so little excitement? But at least those towns and villages had pleasing scenery or semi-comfortable taverns to kick back in after a long day.
From his minimal experience, Wauld was one great rainforest filled with power-hungry Mages, greedy nobility, and suppressed countrymen.
In the gray dawn light, Thom leaned against a dew-damp oak, watching his brother and the Day Mage disappear into the fog clinging to the pines, hazels, and ferns surrounding them, on their way to the town. His curiosity plucked at the jealousy that rested endlessly in his chest. Once again, Deckard got to go off and have an adventure while Thom sat back and babysat.
“Blacklion,” Rafferty said wistfully, sitting in the low fork of a hazel. “Bet there’s a pretty barmaid in that town just waiting for a weary traveler to brighten her day.”
“Well, you certainly are wearying,” Thom said.
Rafferty ignored him. “Neither the colonel nor the highlord is gonna put their time to good use.”
“One of themismarried after all,” Evylin said with a smirk, the image of her old self.
“And the other is an impossible bore,” Ilain added. Her dark skirt swirled as she spun to the low-burning fire in the camp. They only risked the campfire because it would be hidden in the daylight, and they needed to boil fresh water for their journey. “Now, we’ve got at least four hours without those two making things dull. What shall we do?”
“I have a pleasant diversion for us,” Evylin replied, voice chipper.
Thom eyed her, caught between worry and gratitude at her improved mood. This sudden turnaround bothered him. She’d begun acting so carefree. It was as though Hewitt had simply chosen to return to Whickam Village. If that wasn’t concerning enough, she’d resumed flirting with Deckard again. A sure sign that she was moving on far too quickly.
“What sort of diversion?” Rafferty asked, gray eyes sparkling with mischief.
Evylin tapped the hilt of her sword. “It’s been weeks since we’ve properly trained,” she explained. “Now that we’re in Wauld, that needs to change.”
Hunched against the oak, Thom frowned. “We just woke up,” he lamented. A large drop of rainwater from the leaves above took the opportunity to splatter the hood of his cloak, leaking down onto his nose.
He scowled up at the tree as Ilain laughed outrageously. “And,” he added, “where this forest isn’t covered in dangerous tangles of roots the size of Raff’s whole body, it’s slick with mud.”
“You’re a pansy,” Evylin said, then turned to Ethenn for support.
The young soldier sat at the fire, poking the embers with a stick. His tired expression showed even less excitement than Thom’s.
Evylin let out a disapproving hum. “Some soldiers you are.”
“We’ve defected,” Thom noted.
“You’re still soldiers,” she said. “Only for the Alliance, now.”
“Technically,” Ilain cut in, “the Alliance doesn’t have an army.” She sat beside Ethenn, and the boy glanced nervously at her from the corner of his eye. “It’s more of a militia.”
“So we’re militiamen,” Rafferty surmised.
