When we get back to the forge, the fire has gone cold. The workshop is a bit of a mess. I can see my bow has been snapped, shards of wood sticking out from under the table. I wonder if my father did that, or if I did it myself when I was so angry with Tycho. At the time, I didn’t care, but now I do.
I shouldn’t. I have bigger worries than archery. My heartbeat is a roar in my ears. Everything that happened in the boarding house feels like a cruel dream.
I find my crutches on the floor, and they slide under my arms. I can’t look at him. “Be well, Lord Tycho.”
He catches my arm, the first hint of true strength from him. WhenI turn with vitriol on my tongue, he steps close, his hand catching my face. He leans in, almost an embrace, but his voice speaks right to my ear.
“I swore to you,” he says softly. “Yes?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“I keep my word.” He pauses, drawing back to look at me. “In truth,” he says, “you’re the most beautiful manI’veever seen. And I’m not confined to the forge.”
My heart skips. I can’t speak.
I want to tell him everything. But now it’s too late. He’s leaving. Again. He ties up the black gelding’s reins, then springs onto Mercy.
“One week,” he says. “Maybe less.”
I swallow and nod.
He takes a long breath, then closes his eyes. “Silver hell,” he says under his breath. “I’m in trouble already.”
“Then go,” I say.
“Not yet.” He climbs back down from the horse, strides up to me, and before I’m ready, he presses his mouth to mine.
I’m breathless and dizzy and I’m about to make nonsensical sounds again.
Tycho hits me in the chest with something, and I grab hold automatically. “Work on your long range,” he’s saying. “Remember what I said about your hands.”
My thoughts are still tangled up in the feel of his mouth. “What?”
He swings aboard his horse and laughs lightly. “Be well, Jax.”
And then he’s gone.
It takes me a solid minute before I can look down at whatever he shoved into my chest.
His bow.
CHAPTER 32
TYCHO
I expect Jake to question me while we ride, or to tell me what happened with Jax’s father, but he does neither. He’s oddly quiet, but I don’t really mind, because I can let Mercy canter along the darkening path while my thoughts remain firmly planted in Briarlock. My heart feels so light that my pulse seems to beat in time with her hooves. I feel like I’ve been smiling for hours, remembering the feel of his skin or the taste of his lips or the silken softness of his hair.
A week will be too long. There’s no way to predict what Grey and Lia Mara will need when I return, but it’s rather doubtful they’ll need me formuch. It’s only a four-hour ride. I could be out and back within a day.
I don’t want it to be a day.
“Tycho,” says Jake. “Let’s give the horses a breather.”
I sit down in the saddle and Mercy slows reluctantly, tugging at the reins until she realizes that Jake’s horse has dropped to a walk, too.Idon’t want to walk, though. My entire body feels jittery, full of an eagernessthat I can’t quite reason out. If Jake suggested sprinting on foot the rest of the way, I think I could do it.
Then he says, “So tell me about Jax.”
I sigh, inhaling the cool air that’s arrived with the twilight.
