Page 51 of Sword & Shadow
Darting through the thick forest and deluge, Deckard had little chance to wonder about his conclusions. The night was almost pitch-black now, and the treacherous growth and muddy terrae required his whole attention. He’d been gone too long. Evylin wouldn’t be pleased with him for leaving her to wait in the cold rain.
When he finally arrived back at the place he’d left her, Deckard found it empty. He frowned, scanning the darkness. His heart sped up, fear lancing through him. Memories of Blount’s ambush plagued his mind. Had she been discovered?
A flash of movement caught Deckard’s attention, and he spun toward it, hand on his sword.
“Careful,” Evylin said, landing on the ground in front of him. “It isn’t good manners to kill your wife.”
Deckard sighed, releasing the hilt. “Where were you?”
“In the tree. I didn’t feel like sitting in mud.”
“You couldn’t have warned me before popping up like a ghost?” he said, then bit his tongue at the term.
Evylin’s eyes grew playfully wide. “Do you believe in ghosts? I would have thought that was too pagan for you.”
“It’s a figure of speech.”
Her teasing grin made his heart swell in its cage of ivy.
Another frigid gust tossed the rain in their faces. They hunched away from it, huddling under the boughs of the large tree she’d climbed. “We should get back,” he said, raising his voice over the hum of rain.
Evylin caught his hand. “But I’ve decided on my payment.”
“And it has to be discussed here?”
“It’ll be raining there as much as it is here,” she said. “We don’t have tents, remember?”
Seeing her point, Deckard pressed farther under the tree’s cover. “Let’s hear it.”
Evylin’s eyes gleamed even in the darkness. “Two things,” she said. “First, I want the rest of your bread rations for the remainder of our journey.”
Deckard scoffed amusedly. “You can have my bread rations for the rest of our lives, should you so desire.”
She shook her head in a mockingly business-like manner. “That isn’t what I asked for. And you haven’t heard my second compensation.”
“Pray tell.”
A sly smile worked its way across her lips. She sidled closer to him, her arms slowly working around his waist. Deckard grew rigid, wary yet intrigued by this forward display.
Evylin held his gaze as her hands settled against his lower back. Then he felt something jerk free, and her hands were back between them, a shining blade in her grip. “I want this knife,” she said.
“You already have a dozen knives,” he replied.
“Yes, but this one is prettier than any of mine.”
He glanced at the pommel, etched in rosettes. He’d chosen it for that design specifically—a symbol of her: Evylin Rosette. “I see the appeal.”
She flipped the blade, stashing it in her belt. He could see in her stare that she was aware of the advance she’d made and his instinctual reaction to it. It had been a deliberate tease.
She still wanted him to kiss her.
Deckard studied her for a moment longer, their gazes locked together. Had his subconscious been correct? Had she truly moved on because of her love for him? Did she trust him at last?
He supposed there couldn’t be any harm in testing it.
Cautiously, Deckard leaned down toward her, slowly enough that she could pull away should he have misread her.
She stayed.
