Leth pulls up alongside Shae. “Can I talk to you?”
The medication kicked in quickly. An hour later, the dizziness and shivers are gone. All that remains is bone-deep exhaustion and the taste of leather on his lips.
“All right,” Shae answers, surprise clear in his eyes. He turns to Arthur on the other side of him. “You ride ahead.”
“As you command, beloved.” Arthur nudges his magnificent horse closer and slides half out of the saddle to press a kiss to the top of Shae’s head. Shae’s only reaction is a slight smile—he’s clearly accustomed to this. Arthur heaves himself back into position and trots his mare forward, towards Evain and the women.
Up ahead, Freya is recounting some story that requires a lot of arm gestures, drawing laughter from Evain and Marta. Back here with Leth and Shae, everything’s quieter. Just steady hoofbeats in soft earth and whispering wind through bare trees.
Shae rides silently next to him, glancing over from time to time. He wears fingerless gloves despite the cold, baring his silver rings. When the wind whips his dark hair away, more silver glitters at his ears. If there’s a more dangerous power to wrest from a demon than necromancy, Leth’s never heard of it. The number of charms and spells Shae needs to simply survive from day to day must be exhausting.
“I apologize if this is rude,” Leth says eventually. “But I wanted to ask why you contracted with a demon.”
Shae gives him a long, unreadable look. “You don’t want to know that.”
“I’m sorry. I overstepped. You don’t need to—”
“That’s not what I meant,” Shae interrupts. “I meant, what you really want to know is whyEvaincontracted with a demon, right?”
The question dizzies him like a blow to the head. Leth isn’t used to being seen through so easily. “I suppose I do.”
Fitting Evain into his worldview was easier when Leth thought the man was entirely immoral. A hedonist indulging in demonic magic and human extravagance. Provocative and irritating on purpose. Leth prides himself on his self-control, but Evain drives him to distraction as easily as rolling up his sleeves. Half the time Leth was in the Locksmiths, Evain was out somewhere unaccounted for, which Ronan accepted but Leth always distrusted. And Leth knows the constant philandering is necessary for Evain’s magic, but it bothers him anyway.
Disliking Evain used to be simple, but now, Leth doesn’t know how to deal with how reliable Evain is in a fight. How much care and preparation he’s put into this quest—the worthiness of the quest itself. He doesn’t know how to deal with a demonic mage making study cards, and he itches to ask more about the theory behind the array.
Evain was as aggravating as ever today, forcing Leth to take the medication. But he was also considerate enough to use some other excuse to stop the party, so nobody else would see Leth’s weakness. Has Evain changed? Or was he always like this, and Leth too caught up in his family baggage to see it?
The gap between Leth and Shae and the rest of the party widens. Shae leans forward and pats his little gelding’s neck. “You’ll have to ask him directly. Everyone has their own reason for it.”
“Does it…” Leth trails off. It would certainly be overstepping to ask if Shae thought a demonic contract made him more evil. “Nevermind. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” They ride together in silence for a while, until Shae suddenly adds, “Now I might be the one overstepping, but what’s it like following Ka Dravos? He seems, hm. Stricter than Vara.”
Leth considers his answer. “Unrewarding.”
***
In the next town, Evain reserves their rooms for the night. Leth braces himself for the arrangement, and his palm tingles beneath his glove when Evain drops a key into it.
“You get your own room tonight,” Evain tells him.
The key is heavier than it should be in Leth’s fist. He tells himself he isn’t disappointed. He tells himself he isn’t cold, saying his prayers without answers and curling into bed alone.
?
CHAPTER TEN
EVAIN
Evain tastes old magic in the air as they ride into Lanwatch two weeks later. The Northern Barrier stretches miles into the sky, far taller than the mountain range that crowns Charain. The spell is invisible, save for the occasional dark shimmer against the gray winter sky.
Last time Evain left Lyrisenia, the Northern Barrier didn’t exist. He admires the scope and scale of the spell—humans can be ingenious with the limited means available to them. Binding gods, casting out demons, building enchantments that endure far past their own limited lifespans.
Ingenious, yet short-sighted. The Northern Barrier only protects Charain. It does nothing to solve the problem of Lyrisenia.
Daziroth snorts nervously as they ride through town. He senses the Northern Barrier too. Evain pats his shoulder, unable to reassure him out loud. Someone could overhear. But theywillcross into Lyrisenia unimpeded. The barrier is fracturing, after all. And thanks to a certain someone’s covert attention, Evain is very strong right now.
The ring of steel on steel greets them at the Riverswords outpost. Evain rides in next to Arthur and Shae, finding a well-used courtyard surrounding the barracks and office. A painted wooden sign swings above the outpost door, with half a dozen arrows sticking from the center. To the right of the door, a ring of men and women circle two combatants wielding practice swords. A woman perches on a throne of barrels, overlooking the fight with a brown paper bag in her hand.
