Page 12 of Of Kings and Thieves

“Better?” Col asked.

“Yes,” I breathed, feeling refreshed, even if my skull was still trying to split open. I opened my eyes and saw him, really saw him. He was here, beside me, just as he always had been. The same man I had met all those weeks ago, if a bit paler. His long dark hair was tousled, and his piercing hazel eyes held mine in a gaze that made my heart skip a beat.

“Col,” I breathed. “You’re really here?”

“Yes.” His hands covered mine, and I wondered why he didn’t hold me. “Or rather, you are here with me now.”

“How? What happened?”

“You were attacked by a Deviant. You’re lucky to be alive.”

Deviant. Yes. The memory came crashing back, and with it, the fear. The fear of being caught and killed. I shuddered, and Col’s hand tightened on mine.

“It’s all right,” he murmured. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I looked up at him, into those golden-flecked eyes that promised safety and love, and something else.

“How am I here, with you?” I tried to sit up, but the pain in my head was too great, and I sank back onto the ground with a groan.

“Easy,” he said, supporting my head. “You need to rest.”

“Col,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “What happened to the Deviant?”

“You must have worked some powerful magic to put that Deviant under so completely.” Col’s voice held a note of pride. “He was snoring when Killian found you.”

His answer brought up more questions, but I was weary.

“You’re here,” I murmured, losing track of everything else and focusing on the man holding my hand. “You’re really here.”

Col brushed his thumb against my cheek. “Yes.” His voice was a husky whisper. “I’m here. I’ll always be here when you need me. Now rest, my little siren.”

I sank into a dreamless sleep, and for the first time since Col and I had parted, I didn’t have any nightmares.

When I woke, my headache had transformed from my skull splitting open to something less intense, like a horse standing on it.

Col sat next to me with the same look of tender concern, his broad shoulders tensed as if carrying a load much heavier than anything physical. It was as if he had appeared from the heart of my dreams.

I tried to sit up, and this time was able to manage it with his help. “You should be on the way to Iron Deep by now.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile. “I still am.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hey Samara!” The booming voice made me wince, and Col glared at someone behind me. I turned gingerly, and then leaned back to see Magnus, Col’s friend and monster hunter, towering over us with a large grin on his face.

Everything about Magnus was large. His shoulders, his arms, his height. His presence. Like a mountain that had come to life. He was a force to be reckoned with, and I was a bit intimidated by him.

“Killian says you used your siren song to put a Deviant to sleep,” Magnus said, sitting on a log. “Is it true?”

I took a deep breath and briefly recounted the fight with the Deviant. I could still feel my heart pounding in my chest, and when I was done, felt drained as if I had fought the Deviant all over again.

“I never should have left you alone,” Col said. “If Killian hadn’t found you...”

I gave Col’s hand a squeeze. “Who’s Killian?”

“Killian is me,” said another voice.

“Killian is the one who saved you,” Col said, introducing the stranger emerging from the trees. He had long black hair and pointed but graceful features. A bit older than either Col or Magnus. I guessed forty or so.

---