“Well, it would make you evil, and isn’t that your whole thing?”
“I have standards, Amma,” he insisted. “I’m a much more civilized villain than that.”
“But I am actually enthralled. Technically.”
“Technically,” he repeated.
The fire popped between them.
He looked up at her finally. “I am confident the Army of the Undead chased out the Brineberth occupiers from your home, but I know you want to set things right there, and I know I am keeping you from where you belong, but as soon as the talisman is out of you, you can truly go home. You’ll be able to see your family, Laurel, Tia, and that nervous acolyte too. I will bring you back there.” Damien pressed a hand to his chest. “It may not mean much coming from me, but I swear it.”
Amma’s heart hitched, unable to look away from the sincerity he was desperately trying to show her. Faebarrow—home—was so far off, and as much as she loved it and did want to set things right, she wasn’t sure she actually did want to go back, as horrible as it felt to admit.
Fleeing down the road on horseback had been exhilarating, her heart racing in her chest, her mind sparking with endless, wild thoughts, and when she looked at Damien, even under the calm of the night sky and the firelight, those feelings rushed into her with vengeance. They pulled at her, an amalgam of danger and refuge, of trepidation and peace, and a fondness that she was, frankly, embarrassed to feel so deeply for someone who had professed to loathe her not so long ago, and even now someone who had only promised to not kill her as if that were some impossibly high bar.
Damien was right: with Cedric expelled from Faebarrow, her home was where she belonged. It was the place her parents were, her friends were, what was left of the trees were. But home didn’t have him. And it couldn’t possibly ever after what he’d done there, both because his presence would be unwelcome and because, well, why would hewantto be there? Because of her? Had she really not learned she couldn’t convince him—couldn’tchangehim or anyone, for that matter—when he was on such an Abyssbent path?
Amma managed a weak smile. “Thank you, Damien,” she said, wanting very much to mean it but only feeling ungrateful and foolish. She pulled her cloak out from under her and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“If you find yourself cold tonight,” said Damien as he focused intently on a patch of the ground that couldn’t have been nearly as interesting as he made it seem, “you can, um…you should let me know.”
Amma’s pulse quickened, but she shook the thoughts that were flooding her mind away. “Okay, I will.”
She listened to him bed down on the fire’s other side, curling onto her shoulder and closing her eyes. An owl called out into the night, and though she knew exactly what it was, she contemplated using the sound as an excuse to get closer to him.
I don’t think I can ever trust your tears again, he had said, and that probably extended to fear too.
“Amma?”
Her eyes popped back open. “Yes?”
“The thing I said, about killing you if I find you too irritating?” Damien cleared his throat. “That was a…a joke.”
She clicked her tongue. “I know. That’s why I laughed.”
“I just would like to confirm that you completely understand.” There was patience levied in his voice along with a strain as he struggled for the words. “Feel free to be, you know, as irritating as you like without fear of imminent death.”
Kaz retched from the shadows.
Amma giggled lightly. “Yes, Damien, I do understand. Thank you,” she said, and this time she meant it.
A few days headed southward brought them to flatter lands. They did not come upon another village, instead taking less-traveled roads and seeing very few others. When they slept, they remained on opposite sides of the fire, a thing Amma reminded herself was for the best even with Damien friendly-ish once again. So, he had promised not to kill her and to eventually bring her home—even if it were true, then what? She would be left without him, and he would be headed to Eirengaard to…well, she did not want to think aboutthat.
Once the talisman was removed, that would be the end of things. She would return home to what was hopefully a still-intact barony. When the raven came back from Laurel, she would know what was waiting for her, and whatever it might be, she couldn’t very well rely on Damien to assist again no matter how that thought wormed its way into her brain. He would be gone, a stranger and a villain to boot. That she’d gotten so used to being at his side in only one moon’s time was a matter she could mourn later.
But Damien’s associates would be first. She would like them, he had said, which was a thing she couldn’t imagine, but was open to hoping for.
Rocky formations rose up alongside the road they followed. White stones stood at jagged angles, growing taller as they went and blotting out the plains and forests that stretched to the eastern horizon. At first there had only been a few, but they had grown larger and larger yet remained distinct from mountains, steep and straight, no trees or shrubbery upon them save for a deeply green moss at their bases, anchoring them to the ground as they towered tens and then hundreds of feet into the sky.
Eventually they came to a lake, nestled into the foot of the stone cliffside, and Damien dismounted. The pool was deeply maroon under the greying sky of cloudy autumn and generous in size. With such access to water and the natural defense of the stones to one side, Amma would have expected even a small village to spring up on its shores, but there wasn’t another soul or even a structure about, only a cave on the lake’s far end. Amma had been expecting a tower like Anomalous’s or Xander’s, but when she saw the opening into the colossal stones, she knew that was where they were headed.
“Stay,” Damien was saying to his horse, hands out and face twisted up as if it were a struggle to command in such a soft voice. The pale stallion only looked at him lazily and then went to drink from the lake. “They’re not as bright or commandable as the knoggelvi. I’m afraid they likely won’t be here when we come back as this may take a few days.”
Amma slipped down from her ginger-coated mare and spied a bushel of clover that she quickly tore up from the ground and offered to the creature she’d taken to calling Winnie. “That’s a good girl,” she said as the horse snuffled at her hand and ate. “You were so sweet to take us this whole way even though we’re not your actual people. We’ll be back, so if you two can find it in your big, horsey hearts to stick around, we sure would appreciate it.” She took the horse’s muzzle in her hands and planted a kiss on its velvety end.
When she looked over at Damien, he was staring at her dumbly and there may have even been a bit of color to his cheeks, but he turned away too quickly for her to tell. “They don’t speak Key, Amma,” he murmured, headed toward the ledge of rock that ran along the back half of the lake’s shore.
Amma giggled and followed after. “So, what is this place?”
