Mattox stared hard at the line of black clouds that appeared to be sitting on the horizon. “Yeah, it doesn’t look good.”
“Can you tell how fast it’s moving?”
“No.” He took a deep breath. “Can’t smell it yet, so it can’t be moving too fast. But it might hit us late tonight or early morning.”
Nevo crossed his arms over his chest. “I came to let you know Misty and Atty and I have moved all the weaponry to a new locale.”
“Where?”
“To one of the storage tanks. 2B.”
Mattox nodded. “Thanks. That’s a good hiding place.”
“I thought so, too. Since there’s a guard stationed above them all the time to watch over the grain and all, no one will question seeing one there. Plus, it’s the first tank you come to when you go through the gate. Makes it easier to get to.” Nevo turned to descend down the ladder. “I’m going to join Misty and my girl at the dining hall for lunch. Wanna join us?”
“Not right now. Maybe for supper.”
“All right. Talk to you later.”
He turned his back on the man, locking his gaze on the distant formation. However, his attention returned to what he’d been thinking about. Reminiscing. And, in a faint sort of way, wistfully wishing.
When he’d seen his father kiss his mother before heading back to the conference, it was an act he’d witness countless times. The look that passed between them was raw and undisguised. They’d never tried to hide their love for each other in front of their children, the same way they’d never hid their love for each of them.
There were also the glimpses of them he’d caught when they hadn’t been aware he’d seen them. The gentle caresses to the face. The way they held hands, even when they were in a heated debate. Time and again he’d heard others remark on the fact that if it wasn’t for his parents’ love for each other, Alta Novis wouldn’t exist. Neither would it have thrived, and the peace his mother and father had brought about between Normals and Mutah would never have happened.
The expression he’d come to expect to see from his parents was the same as what he’d seen between his siblings and their mates. Between Luc and Johna, and Misty and Nevo. Real love. Pure love. Honest love. Love that could almost bend swords with its strength.
Although he’d never admit it in his lifetime, he envied his parents and siblings. The stories say there would always be that one family member who’d never find their soulmate. In the story of the D’Jacques Dynasty, that one would be him.
And yet…
His thoughts drifted back to Caralas. That woman intrigued him as much as she irritated him. So why couldn’t he just dismiss her and go on with his life?
She’ll be gone in a few days. She’ll return to her luxuriant lifestyle I’m sure her father regales her with. She’ll continue to take her fencing lessons, ride her horses, and do everything she’s expected to do in preparation for the time Edge turns his leadership over to her.
Aren’t you forgetting something?a nasty little voice reminded him. For good measure, his demon threw the memory of the arrow into the forefront. And to make it sting, it added the arrow hitting her. Caralas turning her head at the last second for some reason, and the barb planting itself through her eye, into her brain.
His mother’s signature kill shot.
“No!” The word burst from him before he was aware of it. Fortunately, no one was close enough to hear him.
He turned to look in the direction of the Normal battle lords’ campsites. Now he was doomed. Once that image burned into his brain, he’d never be able to be rid of it. Not for the rest of his life. It would dominate his nightmares, and pop up at the most unexpected and perhaps worst times, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
What if it was a foretelling?
Coldness plunged icy blades into his body, turning his blood into slivers. He felt himself growing lightheaded, forcing himself to grasp one of the supports in the log wall to keep himself from teetering.
“Mattox?”
The word became his anchor. The coldness vanished, and his mind cleared.
At ground level, his father waved for him to join him. Standing to Yulen’s right was Lorgon Edge. Even though he could guess why his father needed him, it would be interesting to hear what Edge had to say.
Throwing off the last shreds of imaginary doom—Don’t be so sure about that, Matt!—he descended the ladder.
“This way,” his father gestured, and led them past the bell tower toward the main square. He stopped underneath the large canopies erected around the site. “I figure we can speak here in private.”
“Out in the open?” Edge questioned.
