Page 229 of Sword & Shadow
“Please, Jonn.” She let all the terror roiling inside her show, pleading with him through her vulnerability. “I need you to save me from him.”
His whole bearing changed then, becoming broken and sorrowful. His head hung, and his shoulders drooped. But he whispered, “I promise, whatever it takes...I won’t leave you to him.”
Evylin didn’t know whether to feel relieved or devastated. “Thank you.”
“But—” Deckard’s gaze rose with a new vehemence in their green-blue depths. “I will pursue every other avenue of escape before I ever lift a hand to you. Be it tomorrow morning or a century from now, I will save your life before taking it.”
A soft, if doubtful, smile came to Evylin’s lips. “Well, then...” She brushed her hands over the skirt of her dress. “I suppose we ought to escape now.”
The smallest fraction of a smirk lifted the corner of his mouth as he raised a hand to stall her. “Not yet,” he said. “Soon, but... We should let the guards relax. If we move too quickly, they’ll bealert and ready. If we let them think we’ve given up, hopefully their defenses will be lowered, and our escape will be easier.”
Nerves rattling through her limbs, Evylin fought the urge to twist her rings. Her body needed movement and action. It craved the chance to fight, to run, to do anything that would distract her mind from the waiting. And from the words she couldn’t figure out how to say.
Dropping Deckard’s gaze, Evylin took a steadying breath. “What should we do in the meantime, then?” she asked.
“We were apart for two weeks,” he said thoughtfully, “and forced into silence for four days. I’d say we have some catching up to do.”
Evylin turned back to the fire, unable to sit still in the weighty expectation of the moment. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Shall I tell you about our journey, or would you like to start?” he asked.
“You start.”
“All right.” Deckard shifted to sit on the edge of the settee, resting his arms on his knees. “I will warn you; Rafferty was right. It was rather boring.”
A quiet chuckle slipped out of her at his teasing tone. “Is that so?”
“Iwas dreadfully bored, so I can only imagine how he fared.”
“Poor dear.”
He raised his brow. “Me or Rafferty?”
She gave him a sideways glance. “Both of you.”
Deckard dipped his chin in mock appreciation. “Your concern is too kind.” He drew a hand along his smooth jaw before beginning. “Well, there isn’t much to tell. Traveling and training took up most of our time. Icansay that the marshes of Wauld are worse than all the rain in the North.”
“Impossible.”
“You’d say that until you’ve been eaten alive by mosquitoes.”
Evylin scrunched her nose in disgust. “Heavens forbid.”
One of Deckard’s brightest smiles relaxed his distressed countenance. At the sight of it, the tension in her muscles eased. Here was the man to whom she’d bound her life—the noble captain who could charm even Hewitt Glaas into spending his afterlife with him. Though she’d thought it due to meager novelty, she’d been drawn to Deckard from the start. It was a subtle sort of attraction, one that snuck up on her rather than sweeping her off her feet. Yet, here in this moment fraught with danger and impending death, she wondered how she ever could have lived without this wonderful man she’d come to call husband.
Despite their dire situation, this was the moment for which they’d both waited. They had returned to one another, and if nothing else, they could enjoy their final hours in each other’s company.
The thought pinched in Evylin’s chest.
“During our journey,” Deckard continued, “I began to keep Hewitt around at all times.”
Evylin looked up. “I thought you summoned him after . . . in Ephria.”
“I did, but I only saw him occasionally, and it was when I wanted to. While traveling through the marshes, I kept him around constantly.”
“But... You couldn’t talk to him or give any sign he was there. Why would you—?”
“I missed you,” he said plainly. “And Hewitt was the closest thing I could get to being with you. Even if we couldn’t talk.”
