“Saelihn is a dear friend. A friend who threatens incarceration for tax evasion, but a friend nevertheless.”
Helspira only smiled as she turned her gaze skyward.
Something about the way she stared at the stars caused a stir in Sikras’s chest, somehow soothing yet unsettling him. Clearing his throat, he stood. “I suppose I’ll get some rest for tomorrow. You’re sure you don’t want my bedroll?”
Helspira shook her head. “I prefer the sky’s company. Pio Chamila is so far below the surface. Gnarled stalactites are hardly a substitute for stars.”
Stargazing, Sikras arched a brow. The illuminated specks seemed just as inconsequential as the lightning moths that surrounded them.
“Every time I look at them,” Helspira continued, “it feels like the first time. I suppose that sounds ridiculous to someone who’s seen the stars every day.”
Sikras scrubbed the back of his neck. “Not ridiculous, no. Besides, after watching you look at them, I’m beginning to suspect I haven’t been doing it right.”
Darkness veiled her, but the tone of her voice made it easy to imagine her beaming features. “There’s only so many ways to look at something,” she said with a quiet giggle. “You just ... look. If you stare long enough, it’s easy to see how beautiful it is.”
A cloud parted from the moon’s path, spreading a silver glow over Helspira, as she watched the sky with wide, shining eyes. Sikras studied her, from the subtle twitch of her smiling lips to the way the overhead auroras reflected in her enamored stare.
She was right. When one stared long enough, it was easy to see how—
No, no. Nope. Not going there. He swiped his nose, dusted the dirt from his knees and straightened the laces of his vest. “All right, I’m off to lay uncomfortably close to my undead brother-in-law, and I shall see you come morning.”
“If it makes you feel better,” she called out after him, “you can tell Ben you won the right to sleep beside him in a game of arm wrestling.”
He hastened his steps toward the tent. “I may be a good liar, but he’d never believe me. My upper body strength leaves a lot to be desired.”
Another laugh. It was so genuine. Melodic. “Goodnight, Catseye.”
“Goodnight, Helspira.”
He paused outside the tent, heartrate slowing, as he eased into a calmer state. Nothing was wrong with appreciating another person, and that’s all it was. Appreciation. It meant nothing, was nothing, just a passing observation. A totally normal, totally human observation. Besides, Helspira was worthy ofsomeadmiration. Anyone who still believed the world was worth saving after all she had been through was a rare find, indeed. She reminded him a great deal of the old Vessik in that regard. Unfortunately, Vessik’s boundless empathy went forever unrewarded by the gods, and it was very likely Helspira would suffer the same discourtesy. It may have been too late for Vessik, but it wasn’t too late for her. If the gods wouldn’t favor Helspira for her kindness, Sikras would do it himself. Tomorrow. Out of good, old-fashioned appreciation, and definitely not anything else.
Chapter Ten
Helspira
GODS, IF HER STOMACHknotted any tighter, she would hurl all over her boots.
