Page 251 of Sword & Shadow
Hewitt settled them with a gentle but serious stare. “Back in Whickam Village, I would have sworn an afterlife was merely rhetoric to make people feel good about death, but...” His eyes rose to scan the camp. “After Mages, Warriors, ghosts, and Relics, I’m rather certain there’s more to life than anything I could dream up. And if there’s a chance that I can get back to my Irena and Ryen, I’m taking it.”
Deckard drew in a long breath as Evylin slumped against his side. “You want me to release you?” he asked, sorrow etching his voice. After all this time, he couldn’t fathom letting the man go.
“I do,” Hewitt said with determination.
Reluctantly, Deckard nodded. “Very well, but...” He turned to Auden. “I don’t know how.”
While Auden considered the question, Isla spoke up. “None of us can teach you that,” she said. “However, where we’re going, we have just the man for that job.”
Auden scowled again but didn’t argue the point.
“When we arrive tomorrow,” Isla continued, “I’ll make a request for you to meet with Highlord Obel. I guarantee he’ll be able to help you. And if you summoned a ghost unintentionally,” she shrugged, “it sounds like you could use his training too.”
Deckard didn’t know whether to be grateful or afraid of what that meant. More training meant a deeper connection to Night. And despite his determination to keep Hewitt around, he had to admit that Auden’s warnings concerned him. What if he were predisposed to this Deep they’d talked about? If he could accidentally summon a ghost, what else could he do?
Running a hand through his hair, Deckard’s exhaustion hit him full force. He looked up at Hewitt. “I don’t have the strength to keep you here anymore.”
The ghost’s gray eyes flicked to Evylin’s, then he nodded.
Deckard let him lapse away, easing the strain on his mind. He addressed Auden. “I’m not giving the Night Relic to Rafferty,” he said, hurrying to continue before Auden could protest. “I won’t use it, but it’s safer with me. I know it’s hard for you but try to trust my nature more than you distrust Night’s. The Relic doesn’t affect me the way it affects others.”
Jarrad tapped his fingers thoughtfully along his knee but remained silent.
Auden sighed. “All right...” He flexed his hands as though trying not to fist them. “But once we get back to Ephria—”
“I’ll happily give it up,” Deckard promised.
With a final nod of acceptance, Auden backed away. An awkward silence remained as everyone attempted to return to their business. Thom took it upon himself to bring an end to the discomfort by announcing that the meal was ready.
Deckard watched knowingly as his brother helped everyone fill their bowls before he took his own meal. It was clear that he was already working to become a new man, while at the same time being more Thom than he had ever been before. It made Deckard proud.
The dinner helped them all to slip back into easy conversation. They learned more about Emmaas and Jarrad, discovering they had families in Wauld too. While Emmaas was an Ephrian by blood, he was born and raised in Schon, as his many-times great-grandfather had crossed the sea during the Auldan Mages’ eradication of the Warriors in the late 1100s. It became quickly evident that he was far older than he looked when he told them about his family, most of whom remained in the Schonese Empire. He was a widower with three grown daughters who had families and grandchildren of their own. Only two of Emmaas’s grandchildren had relocated to Wauld with him when he’d chosen to join the Alliance, thanks to one of their agents who worked in Schon to recruit the Warriors who had escaped to its shelter, as well as the few Mages born there.
Jarrad’s story was far simpler. He was a northern Wauldener who’d discovered his connection to Terrae as a child. At which time, he was taken to Sutterlund Reach to train at the Order of the Wind (since the Order of the Terrae, originally in Ephria, was destroyed during Ephren’s uprising). That was where he met Isla after she’d come to join the Order a few decades later. Despite their bickering, it seemed they were good friends, andshe’d convinced him to join the Alliance. Afterward, he met his wife. They’d had their first child two years prior. However, like Isla, Jarrad was an aterian, with a position as a guard and steward for a member of the nobility in Mouroc, which took him away from his family for the time being.
“Isn’t that hard?” Deckard asked. “Being away from your wife and child?”
“Of course,” Jarrad said. “But it’s worth it, knowing I’m making a better future for my son.”
As interested as Deckard was in learning more about the Alliance and the members who had saved their lives, the moment he finished his meal, he excused himself. He was worn out in ways he’d never experienced. If given the opportunity, he thought he might be able to sleep for a full day. Maybe two.
Though he hadn’t requested Evylin to retire with him, she followed behind readily. He glanced over his shoulder, noticing most of the camp doing the same. Emmaas and Ethenn sat up together, agreeing to take the first watch.
Far from the others, Deckard still kept his voice low as Evylin sat down next to him on their bedroll. “My head feels like it’s about to tear in two,” he said as he removed his boots. “I’m getting too old for this.”
Evylin laughed, her arm brushing his as she worked off her coat. “I hate to remind you,” she said playfully, “but you’ve got a minimum of another century to your life if Ilain is to be believed. You’re not too old for anything.”
“Oh, I forgot about that.” Deckard sighed and lay back. The thought truly was daunting. One lifetime was enough to consider. He’d expected to live into his eighties, perhaps his nineties if life was kind, watching his children and grandchildren grow. He hadn’t once thought that he might outlive them.
The thought sent a jolt of panic through his chest.
Deckard watched Evylin lie down next to him, his arm coming around her as naturally as breathing. “Do you know if Warriors live as long as Mages?” he asked warily.
Evylin scooted closer. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” she teased. “According to Ilain, I’ll live just as long as you. If not longer.”
“How disappointing,” he said, then kissed her temple.
Holding her in his arms again, it felt like they’d never been apart. And yet, somehow, it felt wholly different as well. She pressed into his side with far more comfort and intimacy than ever. He didn’t fear making her uneasy with his affection or touch. They were as they were always meant to be.
