Page 95 of Sword & Shadow
They stared at one another. He tested her resolve while she clung to it.
Deckard sighed. “Auden won’t like it.”
“He’s not in charge,” she said tightly.
Deckard gave her a disapproving frown. “I can’t do whatever I please, Evylin. King Ephren may have put me in charge, but his authority carries a little less weight now that we decided to defect. And I risk losing whatever role of leadership the Calders grant me if I push them too far.”
Evylin rejected his sound reasoning, finding her own. “Then tell him. Tell Auden why I need to go. He’ll understand. He’llwantto help.”
“It isn’t that simple,” Deckard argued. “If I let you go, then I have to let the others go too. Auden will know that, and he’ll say no because we can’t take those chances.”
“We won’t have to take chances if they don’t ask.”
“Do you think they’re any less tired of these forests than you?”
“They didn’t lose the only man they ever loved,” she shot back, more tears threatening to drop.
Deckard flinched. His eyes drifted to the trees beyond her shoulder, hovering there. After a deep breath, he dropped his gaze guiltily to the mud.
Knowing what she’d implied—that she didn’t lovehim—Evylin pressed her advantage on his emotions. “Jonn,” she whispered, “please.”
At her imploring words, compassion drew his countenance down. His eyes, his mouth, his shoulders, his head—all of him drooped like she’d settled the world on his back. She hated herself for manipulating him this way.
“All right,” he murmured. “I’ll talk with Auden.”
“Thank you,” Evylin replied weakly.
An uneasy distance remained between them as they returned to their companions. With each moment that passed, Evylin’s chest expanded like an overfilled trunk, straining ever more wildly against its binds. The tears clung to her throat. Witheverything in her, she longed to remove this impediment that poisoned the space between herself and Deckard. She knew he thought she blamed him for Hewitt’s death. But that wasn’t what kept her from taking comfort in him. It was the knowledge that, should she allow him to become that comfort, she would put herself at risk of damning herself to desolation.
She’d survived Ryen. She’d survived Hewitt. She wouldn’t survive Deckard. Not when he was the perfect equal to her soul.
Warriors and Mages—they were meant for one another.
Evylin couldn’t bear that. And she wouldn’t let herself give in to it.
Curse destiny. She would find her own solace, free of the certain devastation that such an attachment would wreak on her heart, mind, and body. She wouldn’t be bound to Deckard in any fashion. Not so long as she might risk losing herself to him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
10TH OF CHRONOS, 1574
Thick, gray fog obscured the skies. The village of Dunneshead was a haze of buildings in the distance. Evylin and Auden rode casually down the road, hoods up. The softest misting of rain filled the air, less of a nuisance than usual. But that might have had to do with the growing lightness of Evylin’s heart.
The tension had eased with eachclompof the horses’ hooves, as though the greater the distance from Deckard, the calmer she grew. By the time they neared the village, she found herself smiling, taking in the world around her with interest. Rodents skittered from tree to tree, rustling the leaves, which tossed a spray of droplets into the air. The gentle crooning of mourning doves rang above their heads.
Evylin turned to Auden, his usually stoic demeanor in place as expected. Without his student around, he hadn’t bothered to strike up a conversation. But with her improved mood, Evylin decided to engage his company.
“The last time we went on a mission, just the two of us,” she said playfully, “things didn’t quite go as planned.”
Auden glanced at her, coppery eyebrows raised. “Nor were the circumstances quite as favorable. Though I’d say entering asettlement in enemy territory isn’t the most promising situation either.”
Evylin shifted with her horse as she guided it around a large depression in the road. “True, but I’d take it over facing a maniacal prince any day.”
“As would I,” Auden agreed pleasantly.
They lapsed into silence once more. Evylin furrowed her brow, trying to figure out what to say. She realized that it was surprisingly difficult to talk with the highlord. In their travels with the Calders, she’d only been alone with Auden once, and conversation hadn’t exactly been a priority while fighting for their lives in the Water Keep. Thinking up something engaging to discuss was harder than she anticipated.
Evylin considered what she knew about the Mage. She hadn’t learned much, aside from his academic and straitlaced conduct. He was nearly as prudish as Deckard, though his conservative leanings seemed borne of personality and indifference rather than religious or moral sentiments. This reserved manner of his made him difficult for Evylin to understand, and as he didn’t show interest in pursuing more than a working relationship with any of the Ephrians, she had never thought to befriend him.
