Page 250 of Sword & Shadow
“Well, I don’t know what the Ephrian laws are,” Jarrad remarked, “but they sure as hell can’t get an annulment here.”
Silence met the statement as the group struggled to understand his meaning. Deckard dropped his head in his hands. While he hadn’t exactly been opposed to the troop finding out about their reconciliation, he hadn’t anticipated revealingthatpart of their resolution.
At the man’s words, Rafferty collapsed into a fit of laughter. Jarrad, Isla, and Emmaas watched the man’s hysterics with confusion. Thom stared pointedly at the fire. Ethenn stared at his friend, puzzled. Auden blanched, and Ilain said with strange excitement, “Really?”
Evylin wrapped her arms around herself as though trying to hide. “Can we please move on?” she asked irritably.
“Well, I have another question,” Jarrad offered.
“I don’t think I want to hear it,” Evylin shot back.
Jarrad waved her off. “It’s not about that,” he promised. “You said something about a ghost... Where is it?”
Everyone turned to Deckard.
Deckard sighed. “I can summon him if you’d like,” he offered. “I’m tired, but with the Night Relic, I think I could make him visible to everyone.”
“Yes, please,” Jarrad said with obvious enthusiasm. He gave Isla a pleased look. “I’ve always wanted to meet a ghost.”
With a glance at Evylin to ensure she was prepared, Deckard gathered his focus and willed Hewitt to appear. A flush of warmth spread up his spine, then receded, leaving behind a dull ache. He was getting dangerously tired again. While he hadn’t expended much magic over the last several days, his weak and worn-out body wasn’t able to support the surge much longer.
But Hewitt was there, standing at his side as big, burly, and stoic as ever. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.
“Wow,” Jarrad remarked lightly. “He looks so real.”
Hewitt turned, taking in the rest of the camp. “And who are these lot?”
“Alliance members,” Deckard explained. “They saved us, and now we’re traveling to their headquarters.”
“Mm.” Hewitt crossed his arms. The evening waned, only his figure unable to cast a shadow in the vibrant remains of sunset. He looked beyond Deckard to smile at Evylin. “Are you well?”
“Yes,” she promised.
“This is the uncle?” Jarrad asked.
Hewitt stared at him skeptically. “Who are you?”
“Name’s Jarrad Hoult,” he said casually. “And you are?”
“Hewitt Glaas.”
“Pleasure.”
Hewitt turned away. “What am I doing here?”
“Well, that was on my request,” Jarrad said. “I was curious: What’s your purpose here?”
Deckard blinked, surprised at the Terrae Mage’s decisive interest. Isla perked up even as Auden scowled. “That’s irrelevant,” the highlord grumbled.
“It’s not,” Isla said, kindly contradicting him. “Obel said that so long as the purpose is honorable, the risk to the Mage is greatly lessened.”
“I don’t trust Obel,” Auden said, and Deckard realized he recognized the name. He couldn’t remember from where, but he’d heard it—and possibly that exact sentence—before.
Isla gave him a small smile. “Vayden does,” she said. “So do I.”
Agitated, Hewitt spoke before the rest of them could. “I’m here for one reason, and one reason alone: to ensure Evylin is happy and cared for.” He took in the way Evylin sat comfortably with Deckard’s arm around her and nodded. “As I find that to be the case, I’m ready to go.”
“What?” Deckard and Evylin said together.
