Page 176 of Sword & Shadow
Deckard hesitated. Though he wanted to keep Hewitt with him, he couldn’t deny the impact of Auden’s warning. Night magic was too dangerous to play games with. And he’d already proven weak under its allure.
“What if he’s right?” Deckard asked the ghost, no longer bothering to hide his presence. “I can’t take care of Evylin if I go mad.”
Hewitt glared at him. “I won’t let you,” he pronounced again, every word intense and determined. “I won’t let anything come between Evylin and her happiness. Andyouare the only one who can give her that.”
“Jonn, don’t listen to him,” Auden warned, seeing the consideration in Deckard’s face. “He’ll only lead you deeper into the madness.”
Deckard met the Mage’s eyes as Hewitt spoke again. “You can’t get her back if you send me away.”
Swallowing past the tightness of his throat, Deckard dropped his gaze to the dirt. “I know,” he said, letting Auden believe he was speaking to him.
“You’ll let him go then?” Auden asked.
“Yes,” Deckard lied.
“Good,” Auden and Hewitt said at the same time.
“Now,” Hewitt continued, “convince him.”
Deckard took an intentionally shaky breath. “How do I—how do I let him go?” he asked.
Auden reached out to set a hand on his shoulder. “Connect with Night, feel his presence, and release him,” he instructed. “But remember, you have to mean it.”
With a shake of his head, Deckard grimaced. “He’s fighting me. I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”
Auden nodded as though it was expected. “He can’t stop the magic. You are the one with the power. Will it, and he’ll be gone.”
Deckard closed his eyes, pretending to be forlorn. How easily Auden had fallen for his ruse. How readily he believed Deckard.
Shame welled within him. Hewitt was right; he really was a liar.
With a deep breath in and then out, Deckard raised his chin. “Goodbye, Hewitt,” he murmured. “I release you to your rest.”
Hewitt snorted. “That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”
Auden didn’t show any signs of doubt that Deckard was following through with his instructions.
Deckard kept to his role. He tightened his jaw, clenched his fists, sighed, and then reached for the smallest fragment of his magic. Heat crept along his skin, and he grabbed hold, discharging the smallest innocuous swell of power.
He met Auden’s stare. “It’s done,” he said tiredly. “I’m sorry, I....” He let the apology hang, affecting his expression with regret.
Hewitt shook his head, chuckling. “You’re a bloody brilliant actor.”
Refusing to let the guilt settle, Deckard mentally corrected the statement: He was, unfortunately, just a skilled liar.
And Auden seemed to have bought the ruse. He squeezed Deckard’s shoulder. “I can feel it too,” he said.
Deckard almost rolled his eyes, the urge informing him that he’d been spending too much time with Rafferty and his flippant behavior.
“You did well,” Auden said, dropping his hand. “I know it wasn’t easy.”
Turning his eyes down once more, Deckard tried to feel remorse for his falsehoods. However, he couldn’t find regret within him. Was this the first step toward damnation? Was he slowly walking toward the Deep, all for the sake of securing Evylin’s love?
Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, meaning it but not for the reason Auden thought.
Auden gave him an understanding smile. “Let’s go back to camp.”
