His father sat up. “No need. I can walk. Slowly, but I can walk if you’ll help me up.”
Hagen and Alaric got his father to his feet, and his father said, “Do not be upset, Alaric, but I’d like to have Brynja on one side and Hagen on the other.”
“Understood, Uncle.” Alaric stepped aside and Brynja took his place.
They made their way back to the boat, all quiet.
Hagen looked back over his shoulder. “Where did she go?”
Broc asked, “Who?”
“Lia. She was here with us.”
Broc said, “I never saw her.”
“She’s gone,” Brynja whispered. “She went down the beach.”
“Da? Do you feel healed on the inside?”
“I do. I feel verra weak, but the pain is nearly gone. I can’t manage a horse on my own, but I can ride. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Artan said, “You bled worse than anyone I’ve ever seen. That will weaken anyone. How did you heal so quickly?”
Alaric said, “I can’t believe it myself, but I saw it with my own eyes. That surely was a death blow. You should be dead, Uncle Connor.”
His father looked at him and said, “It was the lightning. Lia and the lightning.”
It was as if his father had overheard all she’d said, but he was telling them to keep it quiet. He nodded at Hagen and squeezed his shoulder.
Hagen was more confused than ever, but he had his beloved father walking next to him. He and Brynja had healed his father, with Lia’s help.
But no one would believe them.
And what kind of power did he and Brynja really have? He peeked over at her and winked.
Brynja smiled.
Hagen was in love. There was no doubt in his mind now. They were meant for each other.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Connor
Connor had ridden in front of Alaric, and he’d held him strong. In fact, he slept part of the way. It was nighttime, not the best time to travel, but they knew the way well enough.
The battle had humbled him. He’d done exactly what his father had warned him against. He had let his emotions overpower him. His father had warned him once that such an error could be deadly.
He’d nearly died.
And how was he to explain exactly what had happened?
He’d had to change his stance because another fool had come at him from the side, then Dugan had grabbed at the opportunity, aiming for his belly. The pain had been the worst he’d ever felt in his entire life, and the blood.
There had been so much blood. He’d felt the warm liquid as it covered his hand, there to try to stop the bleeding, though he’d failed because he had no strength in his hand.
He recalled Hagen’s distress, how Brynja had stayed by his side. And then he’d seen Lia.
And two others.
