Page 80 of Sword & Shadow
“This—all of this,” he said, voice thick and insistent, “is foryou. I lost the bet, remember? The whole point of our marriage was to get you out of Whickam Village and to give you the life you wanted. So I need you to tell me: What do you want?”
Evylin gaped at him, her pulse spiking. “You promised that I wouldn’t have to make a decision yet.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
“Then whatareyou asking?”
He stepped closer, a fierceness in his stare that frightened her. “Do you want me to be a Mage?”
Her lips parted before she even knew what she wanted to say. “No,” she breathed.
His expression eased.
“But I don’t think we have a choice,” she concluded.
Once more, Deckard’s jaw tensed. “I don’t have to train. If this is all true, then I lived thirty-two years without using magic. That doesn’t have to change.”
Though sure he meant well, Evylin couldn’t help feeling annoyed. He was too ready to sacrifice himself for her. Too willing to give up something of great benefit to him and the rest of the world, all to make her happy. There were bigger futures at play than simply their own.
“We are fighting a war, Jonn. One that’s lasted for more than a century. Whether we like it or not, the discovery of your powers, whatever they may be, can help uswin. You can’t ignore it because you want to convince me to stay with you.”
He flinched as though she’d hit him. Then he drew himself up, his gaze growing flat. “That’s not what this is,” he said without emotion.
“Then what is it?”
He scoffed; whether at himself or her, she didn’t know. “I’m tired, Evylin. And I don’t particularly enjoy trying to persuade my wife to stay married to me. So, no, this is not about convincing you. If you told me you wanted to go home today, I’d happily escort you back to your father and tell him to annul the damn thing.”
Evylin’s brow twitched at his harsh words.
“I only have one objective—” Deckard pressed his hands together before him like an adamant prayer. “I want to keep my word to your uncle. He made me promise to make you happy. Well, here I am, trying to make you happy. So what do you want me to do?”
“Don’t put this on me,” she shot back. “If you don’t want to be a Mage, then fine. But don’t blame me when you’re the one being selfish.”
“So you’d be fine with all of it then?” He tossed a hand toward the camp. “If I start training tomorrow, if I become a Mage, you won’t care?”
Evylin blinked, wanting to say no but feeling the immediate weight of the Calders’ expectations, of the Alliance’s expectations. If Deckard accepted his role as a Mage, it could lead to them being forced to Bond as a matter of course.
Deckard recognized her hesitation. “Thisis why I want to be selfish, Evie,” he said. “Yes, I know that having another Mage would make our quest easier. Yes, it could end the war in weeks or months, rather than years. But it will also make you uncomfortable.”
“So my comfort is worth the continuation of a war?” she asked dejectedly.
Now, it was his turn to hesitate.
Evylin shook her head. “You’re not that selfish.”
“Perhaps I am,” he said sharply. “Perhaps your comfort is an excuse.”
“And you’ll let the continent fall to Blount to placate your fear? I don’t believe it.”
“Then what will you believe?”
“Why are we arguing about this? Do you want to be a Mage?” she demanded.
“No,” he said instantly.
“Then don’t be one. Let the world fall to rubble. Who cares if people die?”
“Who’s to say my becoming a Mage will stop that?”
