Page 56 of Sword & Shadow
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They rode from the moment Deckard and Auden returned from Carrickbrack until dusk, arriving on the outskirts of a village. They veered off the road before it became anything more than a shadow of buildings, going deep enough into the forest to avoid any prying travelers.
“Why is it,” Rafferty asked, “that we have to stop by every bloody settlement? It’s as frustrating as a corset.”
“What do you know about corsets?” Evylin laughed.
The weasel waggled his white-blond eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“It gives us a bearing,” Thom explained, then leaned in. “Though Iamcurious about your corset knowledge as well. I’d thought they’d gone out of fashion amongst all but the most salacious society. What types of women are you spending time around, Rafferty?”
“Not completely out of fashion, unfortunately,” Ilain interjected. “It’s still deemed proper amongst the gentry in Ephria. Thus, my backaches during our time around the palace.”
Thom eyed her wickedly. “I seem to recall a white dress with a neckline too low for a corset upon our meeting.”
“You noticed?” Ilain said with a smirk.
“Wasn’t that the point?”
Clearing his throat, Ethenn rose from where he worked at trimming new fletching for his arrows. Without a word, he walked to the far side of the camp by the horses to complete his task.
“Seems our little Loxley hasn’t taken to your and Thommy’s banter, Highlady,” Rafferty teased.
A flicker of tension pulled down Ilain’s expression before it returned to amusement. “Can’t say I blame him,” she replied lightheartedly. Then she patted Thom’s knee where he sat beside her. “Now, do tell me, dear, what did you think of my dress?”
“I thought it was improper, unladylike, and downright lascivious,” Thom said, then affectionately tugged on one of her red curls. “In other words, I loved it.”
While Rafferty snickered along with the pair, Evylin pursed her lips. She’d watched Thom and Ilain for days now, trying to work out this new relationship of theirs. Part of her reveled in their dalliance, glad to see them getting along rather than bickering so often. She even questioned if such a romance would be good for the pair. Ilain’s wild and brash demeanor might help channel Thom’s need for attention into a passionate love.
But the longer she studied their brazen act, the more she realized that was all it was: an act.
Evylin was about to comment on her deduction when she felt Deckard’s hand on her shoulder. She could always tell when it was him these days. Her pulse would rise, and her head would cool, the first signs of her Warrior magic revealing itself. She craved the feeling. It filled her up and made her want to move. To fight, to run, to dance, to kiss—to experience everything the world could offer.
For days, the urge had grown within her, like a kettle over the fire, ready to boil. When Deckard had requested her help last night, she’d been embarrassed at first to think their troop assumed they’d gone out to take pleasure in one another. But themore she thought about it, the more she remembered the way it felt when Deckard kissed her. Her senses lit up, and the world became clearer under his touch. She’d wanted to kiss him before he left her there by the tree. She’d spent her whole time waiting, coming up with a ploy to make it happen. And she’d been quite proud of her success.
What she hadn’t counted on was wanting more.
Now, Deckard crouched by her side again, and she found her blood thrumming with anticipation.
Hand falling away, Deckard’s gaze was steady, more blue than green in the dimming forest light. “Would you come with me for a moment, Evylin?” he asked. “I want to talk with you about something.”
The tight set of his brow told Evylin of his nervousness. His eyes darted to the rest of the troop as though worried they’d notice their departure. It caused her heart rate to spike.
Had Deckard been thinking of their kiss too? Was he as anxious as she to again experience the coursing rush in his veins? She knew he couldn’t feel the fullness that her Warrior magic brought on, the heightening of her senses until everything became sharp colors, sounds, and feelings. But that didn’t mean he enjoyed it any less.
“Of course,” Evylin said, smiling at the idea. She stood with him, feeling no need to announce their “walk” this time.
They slipped out of the camp, if not unseen, at least uncontested. The pines and rowan trees grew thicker as they left the small clearing. Raindrops clung to the needles and branches, a remnant of the afternoon deluge. The sky was still a dreary gray, but the rain granted them a momentary reprieve.
Following Deckard through the forest, Evylin began to step into the indentations of his footprints. Heel to toe, his feet were quite a bit larger than hers. She supposed it had to do withhis height. He needed something to keep that towering, slender frame of his from toppling over.
Evylin grinned, happily hopping from footprint to footprint. She liked how tall Deckard was. She’d always been tall for a typical Ephrian female, but standing next to him made her feel dainty and ladylike. Neither word was a description she’d ever heard said of herself.
Deckard came to a stop next to an alcove of trees. “This will do,” he said, then looked at her over his shoulder. Instantly, his brow furrowed. “Whatareyou doing?”
Leaping across the final distance between his long strides, Evylin landed before him, her left boot solidly in the print he’d left. She peered up at him with a cheerful shrug. “Following in your footsteps.”
He looked faintly amused. “I don’t think that’s what that saying means.”
