Page 76 of Eldritch
He peered inside to find Maevyth’s sister curled up in a shadowy corner of the room, her knees pulled tight to her chest.
“Four, three, two, one. One, two, three, four.” Staring toward the window, she whimpered and counted again, faster.
Zevander followed the path of her gaze to a grotesquely human face, embedded in the underside of a spider, staring back at her through the window, from where it clung to the outside wall of the cottage. He strode toward it, swiping up one of the blankets on the bed, and covered the window, blocking it from view.
Aleysia’s counting stopped, though her eyes remained fixed in that direction.
With his head still churning a tangle of thoughts about Maevyth, he slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him. Teeth grinding, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, desperate to calm the anger and confusion still battling inside his mind.
Zevander reached inside the pocket of his trousers for the scorpion necklace there. Clutching it in his palm, he took long, steady breaths, as the visual of stabbing her with the knife pummeled him.
He needed to get his hands on that vivicantem.
And as much as it killed him to leave her, he’d have to go alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MAEVYTH
By the time dawn broke, Zevander had already dressed and had begun arming himself. Sometime in the night, he’d changed his mind and decided to venture to town alone. Insisted that I stay back at the cottage.
“Aleysia is awake now. We can travel to town together.Staytogether,” I argued.
He sheathed his sword at his back and secured his bracers. “I don’t think your sister is prepared to go out there. I found her curled up in a corner, counting to herself, last night.”
I winced, recalling when I’d noticed her counting, as well. And he was right—maybe she wasn’t fit to make the journey. Except, I didn’t like the idea of him going alone after the strange episodes he’d had recently. The dark circles beneath his eyes told me he hadn’t slept much the night before. “Is something else troubling you?” I asked.
He paused in strapping on his boots, his brows coming together, before he kept on with the task. “Just don’t want to see anyone hurt.” He straightened and adjusted his baldric, staring at me as I held out his cloak.
“Neither do I.” To keep my emotions steady, I busied myself with straightening the wrinkles in his cloak and noticed something sticking out of the pocket. The scorpion necklace I’d worn the night of The Becoming Ceremony. It was only then I realized I hadn’t seen it in a few days.
I tucked it back into the pocket and stepped toward him, rising up to my toes to press a kiss to his lips. I didn’t care that Aleysia slept only a few meters from where we stood. I surrendered myself to the kiss, drinking in the security I felt in his arms.
When he finally broke away, I stepped back and placed my palm against his chest. “I don’t like this. It isn’t right to make you go alone.” I glanced back at Aleysia’s room, and while it wasn’t her fault, pangs of irritation surged inside of me. It was foolish to separate, and I hated being forced to choose between the two.
As if sensing my frustration, he gathered my hands in his. “If something happened to you, that is a hell I’d never escape. I’ll be fine. Stay here. Stay safe. And by the gods, do not leave this cottage. No matter what.”
Lowering my gaze, I nodded. Reluctantly. “You took my scorpion necklace?”
He shamelessly lifted it from his pocket, holding it in his fist, but didn’t bother to answer the question. Instead, he handed it to me.
I shook my head, shoving it back toward him. “No. Keep it. So you think of me. Think of what’s important and come back to me.”
“I don’t need a necklace to keep you at the forefront of my thoughts, Maevyth.” He slid the necklace into the pocket of his jerkin. “But I’ll keep it, anyway.”
“Good. Be safe. And don’t do anything foolish, like try to pick a fight with one of those things.”
“I’ll return before nightfall.” He pressed another kiss to my lips, brushing his thumb over my cheek, and strode out the door.
Through the window, I watched him cross the yard to the dirt path that led to the village, until he was nothing more than a black speck in the distance. Pressing my fingertips to the icy pane, I let out a forced breath. “Please stay safe.”
“So…it seems he’s more than just a friend.”
I turned around to find Aleysia standing in the doorway, looking a bit silly in her long, white shift over the trousers and worn boots I’d scrounged from the chest Zevander had found in the pantry days ago.
“I refuse to wear the Crone’s old shirts,” she said, as if sensing my scrutiny. “They smell of mold and onions.” She reached out, gripping the doorframe.
“Careful,” I warned as she started teetering to the side, and I rushed over to help her to the chair near the hearth.
