Page 87 of Light and Shadow
“Thank you.” She closes her eyes and lies back in the green grass. “What will happen once we reach your home?”
“I imagine there will be a big feast.” I can almost taste the pheasant and wine. My stomach rumbles.
“Will we go directly to this gate of yours?” She removes her feet from the river and moves back far enough that they can dry in the sun.
“It depends on if my brothers have returned with the other women.”
Sitting up, she wipes the water from her feet and pulls her shoes on. “I almost forgot that I’m really just a tool to open the gate and that there are two other tools. Perhaps you would have been better off if one of them had been your goal. They might have jumped right into your portal, and you would have been back to the oracle and safe in a few minutes.”
I understand that she’s tired and scared. I also know that I am responsible for everything that has happened to her since we met. Still, her words cut deep. Before she can walk away, I take her hand. “I didn’t go about anything right. I thought I could command a stranger to jump through my portal without any explanation just because I am the eldest son of Elspeth Riordan. I was arrogant and intolerable. I have since put you in great danger. I never dreamed Venora would be able to break through the oracle’s wards. Even the vortex that she made in those woods, and the damage she did, I explained away as being too far south for the wards to be secure. I have been wrong about everything from the start, and I’m beginning to question my competence for leadership.”
She plops down, cross-legged in front of me. “You were bossy and carrying a sword which is strange in my world. However, you soon grew charming. You also saved my mother, for which, I can never repay you. Everything that happened since then was not your doing. I know you feel responsible, but you cannot take responsibility for the actions of others. You have gotten me to this point. In a few days, we’ll reach your home. Maybe there we will be safe for a time.”
The exhaustion in her voice pains me. I want her to be safe, to feel safe. I long to hold her through the night without having the need of guards and wards. “I wish you had seen this land before Venora. I was only a child, but it was greener then, brighter, and magic vibrated in the air. When Venora took the old city, her magic permeated and dulled Domhan.”
Standing, she looks around. “It’s quite beautiful now.”
Rising, I nod. “One day, my mother will step back into the tower and make it white again. Her magic will fuel that of the world, and then you will see what you have saved, Harper Craig.”
With a resigned sigh, she walks north along the river as I trail a step behind.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Harper
By the time we reach the bridge, the sun is setting. My legs are like rubber. I’m not used to running long distances, and clearly not as if my life depends on it. That was more terrifying than being imprisoned and tortured, where at least I knew what was happening. Portals sucking people away were worse.
Bor. That poor baby is in evil’s clutches now.
Aaran holds me back while he checks for dark magic on the bridge. He’s been doing this every few miles. Once he’s satisfied, he offers me his hand to cross. “On the other side, we can rest under the bridge for the night.”
Two visions war in my brain. The first is the unsavory people who often live under bridges in the urban areas back home. The second is a childhood tale about a troll and three goats. Thoughts of my father and his warmth and fun-loving ways flow through me.
On the west side of the bridge, the air is lighter. It’s easier to breathe. I inhale deeply and gently let it out. “That’s nice.”
“Yes. That is Mother’s magic, and some of the oracles.” He rounds the stone pylon and heads down the embankment.
I wait, as if a troll might appear, then laugh at myself and ease toward the river.
No goats or monsters of any kind lurk in twenty feet of dry land under the bridge, and the riverbank is two feet above the rushing water. As the sun lowers behind us, Aaran and I gather rocks rounded by the water. Rather than burn wood that might smoke us out, we pile up the stones, and Aaran uses magic to heat the rocks. He digs in his pack, pulls out a warm blanket, and lays it on the ground. “It’s not exactly lush, but we should be dry and warm through the night.”
I lean against a pylon, and the magic heat drives away the coming chill of night. “It’s perfect.”
He’s still healing. Tired from the long day, he drags his feet and his shoulders slump when he walks to the bank. “I’ll try to use magic to bring up a fish or two. We can cook it on the rocks.”
Even though eating unseasoned fish from rocks sounds horrible, my stomach rumbles. “Are you sure you have more magic to use?” I hate seeing him weak.
“This doesn’t take much, and we have to eat.” Eyes closed, he lies on his stomach and reaches into the river. His skin brightens, and the pulse of his warm magic flushes over me.
A minute later, he pulls a fish big enough to feed us both from the water. In his elvish language, he says something that might be a prayer before he brings the fish to cook. Adding heat, he places the fish on the stones with a sizzle.
“You’re just going to cook it head and tail and all?” My hunger is failing.
“Without a pan, this is the best way to keep it moist. I won't make you eat scales or bones.” He winks.
Despite myself, my cheeks heat. “You can’t make me do anything.”
“True,” he says, and smiles without looking up from his cooking. “What were you thinking when I said we’d sleep underthe bridge? I felt something, but I couldn’t tell whether it was happy or sad.”
