Chapter Twenty-Two

Luka tore his gaze away from Rhys on the mare. Loralyn perched in front of him as she guided them through the forest. They had run for a while and now walked to rest the horses. He hunched in his cloak against the cold, grateful for the warmth of Tarian’s slight body in front of him. Loralyn leaned back on Rhys’s shoulder, laughing up into his face while Rhys shook his head. Luka told himself he was glad he couldn’t see his expression. Loralyn was lovely, enchanting.

He was surprised he felt nothing for her, after loving her so intensely. But that was the way of the fae. She’d played with him for a while and then forgot him. But she had given him Ravan, and for that, the emptiness and pain that had followed had been worth it. And the enchantment she had cast over him was no more.

She turned her attention to Rhys now, and who was Luka to deny him the pleasure? Loralyn had filled his days with happiness, his nights with passion. Rhys deserved a little joy in his life, after all his suffering. And when she was done with him, Luka would be there to comfort him in his loss. If Rhys would have him, a poor substitute.

Tarian moved restlessly, his words bitter when he spoke, “Why do you allow it, my lord? Clearly she is set on beguiling him.”

Luka shifted on the stallion to give him more room as Tarian turned toward him. “Rhys is free to make his own choices. As are you,” he added, continuing their discussion from earlier.

Tarian swiveled to look him fully in the face, then his gaze darted away just as quickly. “I believed that, at one time. But now… After what Aethan did…” Distress thickened his voice, “I tried to fight him, lord. I promise I did. But he was cruel—” Tarian broke off, jerking away to bury his face in the stallion’s mane, his mutilated hand hiding a wet cheek.

Luka’s heart clenched with pity, his mind racing as he tried to find the words to comfort him. He again looked at Rhys who rode stiffly, back straight, as Loralyn teased him, and didn’t think he would mind.

“As Rhys told you, he had been his prisoner as well, a short time ago…” He paused at Tarian’s strangled sound, muffled against the horse.

“Hush,” he murmured, rubbing Tarian’s back through the rich burgundy robe he still wore despite his protest. But Luka was warm enough in his old cloak, and the child needed to be reminded of his worth, that what Aethan had done had not diminished him.

“Aethan uses people. And will hurt them, if he can,” he continued, and laid his hand flat on Tarian’s back, speaking to him earnestly, “But I see you, and the beautiful light inside you is not lessened.”

Tarian made no reply, but in a moment he sat up and scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. Luka sighed, heart sore, knowing Tarian would never fully heal from his abuse at the hands of a monster. But perhaps he could still find joy in life. Rhys’s laugh floated back to him and he looked reluctantly ahead, saw Rhys push the fae from his lap once again, and wondered if he witnessed his own happiness slipping from his grasp.

If so, then that was how it would be. He couldn’t afford to dwell on it longer. They were out of time.

“Loralyn, we must go,” he said. He had no need to raise his voice. The fae glanced at him, nodded, and the horses sprang forward on her whispered word. Time twisted as they ran, Luka losing track of the moments flitting by, hours or days or even years. To the Fae, time worked differently than that of human born. A hundred years could pass for a mortal, seeming a mere heartbeat in their glittering, enchanting company. He could only hope Loralyn steered them true, bringing them where they needed to be at the necessary juncture.

His lips twitched with a faintly desperate smile. He needn’t worry. Loralyn knew what she was about. The forest flowed past, and he put an arm around Tarian as his head bobbed and he dozed, unaware of the leagues sliding away beneath them. Luka longed for the forgetfulness of sleep, to put his burden down for a single moment. But he had pulled the Well of Hope from the earth. It was his responsibility to return it.

At long last, the stallion slowed into a walk, muscles shaking beneath Luka’s thighs. The evening was far advanced, darkness gathering under the trees. Loralyn drew the white mare to a stop and Luka halted beside them, gaze intent on Rhys’s hunched back. Rhys glanced at him, blinking sleepily. He must have gotten a little rest. Rhys smiled at him and yawned, captivating him, and Luka’s heart quickened. He had the sudden urge to kiss him, but Tarian woke at that moment, forestalling him.

He swung from the stallion’s back and helped Tarian down, curious about the faint blush in his pale cheeks, but then Loralyn came up to him, snatching his attention. She was beautiful, a bright flame against the gray sky and lightly falling snow. A few flakes clung to her brilliant hair, and he smiled fondly. Despite the pain she had cost him, she had loved him in her own way.

“This is as far as I will go, sweet witch,” Loralyn told him, her pretty lips twitching, laughter in her eyes as she used Rhys’s endearment for him.

“Thank you.” Luka noted they had reached the edge of the forest. He picked up Loralyn’s slim hands and placed a kiss on them. “Did my mother have any other message for me?”

Loralyn nodded and cupped Luka’s face. “She said to go with care and her love.” She paused, cocked her bright head, and there was concern in her brilliant eyes. “I know the strength in you, Luka, but I echo her words. Aethan would tear this world asunder to gain what he desires from you, with little thought to the cost. This makes him dangerous, his atrocities beyond nightmare. At the end, do not hesitate, my love, for he will not.” Her lovely face clouded, a dark note entering her musical voice, “There will be death.”

Luka sucked in a breath, his heart chilled. The fae’s words filled him with a terror he dare not give in to, and he swallowed the wish hovering on his tongue. Loralyn rose on her toes and kissed his eyelids, his lips, and then she walked into the forest and was gone without a sound except for Tarian’s gasp behind him.

“What did she mean?”

Tarian’s frightened words brought Luka’s attention back to him. The young man’s face was white, his blue eyes wide with lingering horror and growing fear. Luka sighed. Aethan had much to answer for.

“Aethan is nigh upon us,” he began and watched Tarian pale further. “But you need not be part of what is to come. Please, take one of the horses and go. Aethan comes from the south. Travel east for one day, until you reach Silver River, then follow it downstream. It will lead you to the Black Oak Valley and then home.”

Unexpected dismay touched Tarian’s face and hurt clouded his bright eyes. “I wish to stay with you, lord.”

Luka frowned, puzzled by his words. “But it will be dangerous for you here. Can you not see that? Aethan—”

“Has already hurt him,” Rhys put in as he joined them, setting his heavy pack at his feet then assisting Luka to remove his own. Luka’s face heated. He’d forgotten all about it and it was a relief to be without the extra weight.

“That is why he should go,” Luka pressed, confused by their hesitancy.

Tarian moved closer to Rhys, turning his back on Luka. “I wish to keep him safe. Why does he not see this?” Tarian’s tone turned stubborn. “He requires my help.”

Rhys nodded. “He needs both of us. But he is a truly humble man and doesn’t see his own worth. Doesn’t understand our compulsion to protect him.” Rhys met Luka’s astonished gaze and winked, drawing a gasp from him. “We will stand at his side despite his protest.”

Luka gaped, then closed his mouth, emotion tightening his chest. Finding no words, he stepped back and swept them a low bow. On raising his head, he found them staring at him, and the love brightening Rhys’s gaze and the blush staining Tarian’s face brought tears to his eyes. All this for him?

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. “Well… We’ll sleep here tonight—”

“Aethan—” Tarian shot in, then bit his lip, flushing red as he dropped his gaze.

“Will not approach us tonight,” Luka said firmly. “Ash Swale lies beyond the next ridge. He waits for us there.”

Fear returned to Tarian’s light eyes and Luka gave Rhys a helpless look. How would he be able to protect the boy? Rhys gave a thoughtful nod as if puzzling the question, then dropped a hand on Tarian’s shoulder. “Come, lad. Let’s fetch wood for the fire while Luka sets the wards.”

Luka watched them a moment as they gathered fallen limbs and twigs, Rhys using a small axe from his pack on the larger pieces. He glanced skyward, blinking at the flakes of snow striking his face.

“Mother, am I doing right?” he asked, anxious and scared, but not expecting an answer in return. This was all his doing. By making his wish, he’d pulled hope from the world. All he could do now was return it before Aethan wrested it from him.

“Keep them safe,” he whispered, not sure she could hear him, or if the spirits of the earth cared about the prayers of a frightened, foolish witch. Sighing, he drew the small granite stone from his pocket. He used it to focus his intention, then walked the perimeter of their camp while Rhys started a fire in its center. Luka set the ward with determination, in case Aethan sent a surprise. They would have one last good sleep before the morrow came with its terrors.

When finished, he joined the others at the crackling fire. Tarian removed a pot of water and oats from the flames that had been set to heat for the horses. Rhys handed out the last of their dried fruit and the remainder of the bread. Tarian dug in hungrily, his strength returning.

“We’ll need to forage tomorrow,” Rhys observed, sliding a dried berry between his lips. Luka’s mouth went dry as he watched. Every sense he had was heightened, nerves stretched taught for the coming ordeal. He could imagine those lips on him, warm, moist, the rough flick of a tongue…

Rhys’s eyes widened and Luka glanced hastily aside, begging his errant cock to subside. His gaze fell on Tarian, bent over his meal. It had been a long, strange day for him. Perhaps he’d sleep soundly. Rhys touched his knee and Luka raised his head and caught his breath at Rhys’s crooked smile and the promise in his eyes.

Luka felt his face heat, embarrassed and aroused, and Rhys rose to his feet. “I’ll care for the horses,” he said, picking up the cooling pot of oats. “Tarian, will you see to the fire?”

“Of course, my lord,” Tarian climbed to his feet to lay more wood on the dwindling flames. Luka watched the fire dance across the logs as his tired mind wandered. Thoughts of Aethan and the coming confrontation tugged at him, but he firmly put that aside, preferring to dwell on Rhys’s smile and the mischief in his blue eyes.