“Eira—”
“Do you think if I wanted to escape I wouldn’t do it when I was left alone like this?” She kept her voice low and shuffled her feet slowly, trying to shift the weight from toe to heel to prevent the boards from creaking unnecessarily. Adela was right underneath them and if she heard someone else on her boat, someone who wasn’t supposed to be there…a chill crept up Eira’s spine. “You need to leave. Now.”
“I don’t know what these people told you, but they arenotyour friends.” He was clearly trying to rationalize her objections. “I have reason to believe they’re?—”
“Adela’s pirates,” Eira finished coolly. “Why do you think I’m here?”
Olivin straightened, squinted, and then his eyes widened, as if truly seeing her for the first time. “You…you’re really her daughter…”
She strategically avoided answering outright. Instead, Eira insisted again, “Please,leave. Weren’t you staying behind to save your brother? What about Yonlin?”
“I found him.”
Three words shook her and flooded the cracks in her foundation with a relief and hope she didn’t know she needed. If Yonlin had made it then maybe there was a chance for Fritz, her parents—for all their families.
But she shouldn’t be so hasty. “Is he…”
“He’s all right.” Olivin smiled and gave a nod. “He’s here. We’ve been traveling together, following the boats. He’s not far, holed up and hiding somewhere safe.”
“Good.” Eira rested her hands on his shoulders and hung her head, basking in the relief as it washed over her in waves. It felt like as long as Yonlin was alive, hope was as well. She straightened, gathering her authority. The victorious smile slipped off Olivin’s face as he saw her expression. “You need to go back to him andstayin that safe place for a good day or two.” Enough time that she’d be long gone.
“Not without you.”
“Listen to me.” She gripped his strong forearms. His clothes were slick under her palms. They clung to the firm muscle of his chest. “I am not some damsel in need of saving. I am here becauseI want to be.”
Olivin studied her. Rain ran down over his face. It pooled between them. “You’re telling the truth.”
“I know I am.” Eira sighed. “Just like I know you meant well. But heed me when I tell you to go; I’m trying to protect you.”
“I can be the one to protect you,” he insisted.
“You can’t help me in the way I need it. I lost my magic and Adela is the only person who can help me get it back.” Every time she said it prodded the wound. But it ached less and less. Now, more a matter of fact.
Olivin’s eyes widened slightly. There were a thousand questions he no doubt wanted to ask. But he kept them, and any objections, to himself.
He hovered for another breath that was hot across her face, contrasting with the cold rain. He searched the depths of her gaze as she charted a course across his. There was so much more to this…he’d tracked her, followed their course on foot tirelessly.
Why do I mean so much to you?Eira wanted to ask. But doubted even he had the answer.
The coiled tension of his muscles eased. For a fleeting moment, the gray of the overcast skies became the night that blanketed Champion Village when they had first kissed. But, ultimately, Olivin gave her a light squeeze and released her.
Eira stopped herself from asking him to stay.
“All right, Eira. I trust you. I always have. I’m sorry for misunderstanding.”
She shook her head. “You were looking out for a fellow shadow.”
“I was looking out foryou.” He stepped backward. “If you change your mind, we’re in the Rolling Pony Inn. That offer of spending the night in my bed still stands.”
“Noted.” Eira laughed softly. “I doubt I’ll come, but maybe some other friends will cross your path.”
He squinted slightly, tilting his head, and then the expression fell into a smirk. “All right, I’ll keep an eye out.” She always did appreciate how astute he was, how quick on the uptake.
Olivin turned and started back down the deck. His footsteps were heavier than she would’ve liked. But at least he was leaving. Even if Adela heard him now, he’d be gone by the time she bothered to emerge.
A faint smile crossed her lips as he made his way down the deck, the low light of town that glowed off to the side of the boat cutting his shape into a silhouette. The docks he headed toward were empty from the storm. But all she could hear was each one of his steps, louder than the last. Louder than the rain.
Louder than the rain.
