His face crinkles in a smile, pleased at the use of his nickname. He nods once before heading back down the stairs.
* * *
Shaw
“What in the world were you thinking bringing that Lemming here? Into ourhome, Shaw?” Max rounds on me before both my feet manage to cross the threshold. I curse loudly. I knew better than to think her happiness to see me alive would temper the sound lashing I was sure to receive, but I did hope she would at least wait until I got Mirren settled.
And maybe had something to eat.
“You are a godsdamn bastard for doing this to us,” she shouts as I usher her into the kitchen. Facing Max on an empty stomach is just poor strategy; sparring with her requires anyone to be at their full strength. The kitchen is warm, a fire already roaring in the open hearth. It smells of freshly baked bread, a scent that always makes me wish I could sink into it like a pillow.
Rhonwen tuts from a scrubbed work-table, a plate of half decorated pastries in front of her. “Welcome home, young man,” she says firmly, wiping her floured hands on the front of her apron. I grin at her, swiping two of the pastries and stuffing them into my mouth before Max can make her next attack. Rhonwen shakes her head in disapproval, pushing herself off the stool she’s perched on. “I take it from all the squawking we have a guest to greet?”
Max’s eyes blaze furiously. “Not a guest, Rhonwen, aLemming!”
The older woman only nods matter-of-factly. “Anyone in need of this home is a guest, Maxwell,” she chides, and Max has the good sense to look rebuked.
With a wink at me, Rhonwen disappears into the foyer. For a wistful moment, I wish I could follow; to be the one to show Mirren to her room. To study her face and watch the moment she feels safe and warm and cared for. To see the wonder in her eyes bloom as she takes in the plethora of books contained within this manor. As much information as her thirst for knowledge could ever demand.
I steel myself. Those moments are not for me. But Max’s ire is, and I’ll take it as long as she needs to give it. Max, my first friend in life, who always feels everything so very deeply. Sometimes I suspect she feels too much, sees so much, that she turns it all to ice before it can overtake her. I knew not arriving in Havay would terrify her, especially with the Praeceptor active in those lands, and that her terror would morph into something wholly more violent. Normally, I would have prepared myself for it, but instead, I spent the latter part of the journey distracted by the feel of Mirren’s plush curves nestled deliciously between my legs.
I shake my head. Those curves are also not for me.
“What exactly do you think I’ve done to us, Maxi? She’s one girl and we’re only going to be here a few days.”
Max crosses her arms and eyes me icily. “You bringing her here is not part of the plan. Her being here is only going to make what you have to do harder.”
“You didn’t even like the plan in the first place,” I point out. Neither of my friends had approved of sacrificing an innocent girl on the half assed whim of a prophecy, but Max, in particular, fought ardently against it for reasons entirely warranted and entirely personal. We went around in circles for days, wasting precious time that the old me would never have given up, because I needed reassurance I wouldn’t lose her when I did what needed to be done.
When she finally conceded that it was the only way to save Denver, a man who’d shown her kindness and given her a purpose when her sense of self had been destroyed, it was at great personal sacrifice. She hadn’t spoken to me the entire journey to the Boundary.
Max narrows her eyes. “I hated the plan. Butyouconvinced me it’s what needs to be done. And how are you going to do it, Shaw? You’re really going to destroy some poor girl after breaking bread with her in your very own house? Give her over to the Achijj and watch her be thrown off a wall?”
“No one is going to be destroyed,” I say quietly.
“What?”
“No one is going to be destroyed,” I repeat more forcefully. It’s the first time I’ve voiced it out loud, the insanity of my desire. “Not Mirren. Not Denver. I’m going to save them both.”
Max’s anger is replaced by alarm. I don’t blame her. She knows me inside and out. I always choose the path that makes the most tactical sense. The one that will get me what I need in the most efficient way possible. Following Aggie’s prophecy and kidnapping Mirren has already led me to Denver’s location. If I somehow destroy her, I know now that I’ll find Denver.
This isn’t efficient. It isn’t even smart. It’s something else that I can’t examine too closely.
“Shaw, the Achijj’s fortress is impossible to get into. We spent days trying to find a way. And if it’s that hard to get in, just imagine trying to get out. You’re the one that convinced me it can’t be done.”
I had. The night we discovered Denver’s whereabouts, we went over every possibility of how to get into Yen Girene ourselves and leave Mirren out of it. Max’s gaze softens, like she’s trying to let me down gently. But I’ve had days to go over every possibility. Days to shore up my resolve so that nothing can crumble it, not even a large dose of reality.
“Denver or Mirren will die, Shaw. That’s the only way this ends.”
I meet her gaze head on. “It’s not the only way.”
I walk from the kitchen before I can see the way the meaning of my words crash over her like a tidal wave.
* * *
Mirren
It feels as though I just laid down on the pillowy mattress when morning dawns. Sunlight pours into the room in buttery streaks. I blink against it blearily, taking a few sleepy moments to decipher where I am. A worn armchair sits in one corner, a heavy armoire in another. Through an airy archway is a sunny bathing chamber, the large iron tub I used yesterday positioned on the far side.
