And, besides, she’d seen the way Noelle looked at him. She couldn’t betray one of her best friends by not giving her paramour a second chance.
“I do,” Eira admitted, ready to follow him once more into the unknown.
3
“Good, because I really didn’t want to have to do this by force.”
“Like you could.”
“You know, you and I should actually spar sometime.” He released her hand. “See who really is stronger.”
“I doubt I’ll put up much of a fight without my magic.” The words stung and the weight of their truth pulled them down.
Ducot frowned slightly. “If anyone is going to be able to help you heal…whatever happened to your magic, it will be Adela.”
He might have a point. Whatever Eira had done was impacting the channel from which she drew her power. Adela’s crew could heal her physical wounds with their Lightspinning, but Meru’s magic couldn’t touch magical afflictions. If there was any hope of fixing it, she needed a skilled and powerful Waterrunner…just like Adela.
“If she’s willing to help me,” Eira said.
“Prove your worth to her. She rewards strength and loyalty.”
“All the more reason to keep moving.” Eira reached for his hand again. “It might be easier if we make a run through the docks. Hopefully we’ll look like just two more people fleeing.”
“In champion’s clothes?”
She stared down at herself. Exhaustion must be hitting her. How else could she overlook something so obvious?
“Take off your shirt.”
“Now is not the time for such scandalous acts.” He curled in on himself, popping a knee and touching his collarbone like a dainty courtier flustered by a suggestive remark.
“Oh Mother above, can you be serious for a second?”
“Only for one second, then I get bored of it.”
“So I’ve learned.”
“Then why do you expect anything else of me?”
Eira pulled at the sleeves of her tunic, yanking at the tears and seams. With a grunt, she ripped off one sleeve and then the next. Then she pulled at the side seams from the bottom hem, taking them halfway up to her waist. Twisting, she teared the fabric horizontally to make a rough, sleeveless shirt that just reached her naval. “Our most identifiable clothing are our tunics. Without them, and moving quickly, we should be able to avoid recognition.”
Ducot finally relented, pulling off his tunic. Scars crossed his body, down his neck and over his shoulder. Ulvarth’s brutality was written on his skin and Eira wondered just how he had the strength to continue fighting against that madman when he’d already endured so much at his hands. More likely, his resolve was cemented because of the brutality he’d endured.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Ducot rubbed his shoulder.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Eira knelt and ran her hands through the ash piling on the edge of the street, teasing it through her hair, dulling the gold.
“Do you think…Noelle would mind them?” A soft dusting of rose crossed his cheeks. Eira had never seen the usually self-assured, overtly suggestive at times Ducot seem anything less than his confident persona. But they all had their insecurities, their doubts.
“I don’t think Noelle would be bothered in the slightest.” Eira patted his arm because he couldn’t see her smile. She hoped he’d hear it in her voice. “If anything, I’m sure she’d find them rugged and tough looking. Probably would bemoreattracted to you because of them.”
He chuckled but it didn’t sound as sincere as it usually was. “You’re probably right.”
Eira had little doubt he was just agreeing with her for the sake of putting on a brave face and his usual confidence. But it was good hecould. Sometimes, these things were a matter of telling yourself one thing until it became reality.
“But you’re never going to have the chance to find out if we don’t keep moving.”
“I know.” He shifted, taking her hand once more. “Lead the way.”
