Charon made a coughing sound. “You have plenty of sadness, if you don’t mind my saying.”
I flinched at the words, as always happened when the scene in the throne room replayed. Sadness didn’t cover how much I missed Alaric. How much I wanted to say to him. Yet, another thought rose just as quickly. Not the despair of losing Alaric but the pit of emptiness in my stomach every time I thought of what Hart and I almost were.
“I’m not sure I have the strength to relive what’s necessary.” I lifted my hand and let it drop to my side in resignation. Charon’s snout scooted into place where it fell. His scales were cool to the touch as I patted them.
“You have the strength. I fear you’ve buried it with everything else.”
I patted him a little harder than necessary after that. Then we turned my bag into a leg strap for him so he could keep Alaric’s papers safe. I’d read the papers a dozen more times on the return trip from Linia, but still I protected them. I wouldn’t risk the last words I had from my uncle being lost when we entered the city.
The following day passed just as quickly, and before I knew it, it was time to meet the supply wagon on the Oldwood Path. We waited in the trees as a cart rumbled steadily down the dirt road. The driver, a man who appeared to be in his fifties, stopped after a complicated set of bird calls.
It shouldn’t surprise me that this wasn’t Hart’s first time moving things into the city in such a manner.
The man hopped down from the front of the horse-drawn wagon and searched the empty space. Hart wasted no time emerging from behind the tree. The man’s smile said they’d done business together dozens of times. He only hesitated slightly when he noticed me. “Where are your packages?”
Hart grinned as the man peered around his broad shoulders, searching for boxes. When realization seemed to hit, the trader shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”
“Come on, Carl. Where is your sense of adventure?”
The trader continued to shake his head. “Both of you?”
When Hart nodded, Carl’s concern increased. “Does she…” Then he seemed to realize he should speak to me directly. He met my gaze around Hart’s frame. “Do you know what he has planned?”
I shrugged. “I’m never thrilled with his plans, but this seems our only chance to get into Kavios.”
Carl rubbed his chin. “I’m not even sure you’ll both fit.”
“Let’s stop hypothesizing and try,” Hart said before I could pry into that specific detail.
Hart took long strides toward the wagon before Carl could further protest. It was covered with a dingy tan tarp, but I knew better than to believe we would simply hide beneath it. The guards at the Eastern Gate inspected most cargo. King Rodric had always been particular about what was allowed in Kavios, and that was before he had the added motivation of searching for Hart and me.
“What exactly do you have in mind?” I asked as Hart removed the boxes that already filled the wagon.
“There’s a false bottom,” he said, and lifted a slab of wood from the base of the cart. It had looked just like all the rest. I wouldn’t have noticed there was anything beneath it. He stepped up onto the wagon, handed Carl the piece of wood, then offered me his hand.
My fingers were gloved, but still I hesitated with such an unnecessary action. Taking Hart’s hand had meant so much to me when we first began to trust each other. Even with the gloves, it was an intimacy that I shared with few. There was so much power in physical touch, even more, now, between Hart and me. I shivered as I considered how much he affected me even without skin-to-skin contact.
I didn’t know if an emotion flared or if he was simply that sure of himself, but Hart’s stupid smirk made an appearance. His piercing green eyes matched the rich tones of the dense trees surrounding us. He gave no quarter as his hand waited, outstretched.
This was why we were here, wasn’t it? If shortly I’d have to offer him up the depths of my soul—my darkest fears, myunspoken desires—then surely, I could take his hand to step onto the wagon.
Carl coughed lightly behind me, reminding me it wasn’t just Hart and me in the woods. It worried me how easily I could forget others when confronted with this version of my guard. That fact hadn’t changed since the first day I saw him and our eyes had locked in the mirror in Alaric’s workshop.
“Chaos?” It was a whisper, a challenge issued only for me.
I wanted to huff, to express my frustration at this entire situation, but the moment my fingers slid against his, the moment his curled beneath my hand to steady me as I stepped into the wagon, all thoughts left me.
This was unfortunate.
The sizzle of our connection was alive and well, no matter how much time I’d spent ignoring it. I pulled myself from the haze enough to look down at the uncovered space, the reason we were standing in a wagon together to begin with. The space was … small.
My voice shook more than I cared for. “We’re both going to hide in there?”
The cubby was not the full length and width of the cart. It was much smaller. I now understood Carl’s hesitation.
“It’s the best option we’ve got, Chaos.”
I dropped his hand in an effort to regain some control. “Fine.”
