Head spinning and limbs faltering, he managed to get home and lock himself in his room before anything happened.Ifanything would have happened—he’ll never know. Maybe Javius really was just trying to help him walk home. The uncertainty may be the strangest part to process.
But in the end, nothing happened that night. The next day is what ruined Leth’s life.
Evain looks away first this time. The cold echo leaves his voice. “I wouldn’t think any less of you if something had happened,” he says lightly. “But I apologize for prying.”
Leth’s fingers unclench. “It’s fine.” To his surprise, it’s true. He’s fine. Not happy, but fine. He survived this trial of emotion, and Evain neither dismissed nor pitied him. “Anyway, I had no evidence of anything, and I missed the initiation ceremony. My brother refused to make an exception, and he forbade me from enlisting that season. Or ever. He said he didn’t want to give the appearance of nepotism.”
“That was cruel of him.”
Leth has never thought of it as cruel before. At the time, he thought Anton was being harsh but fair, in keeping with Ka Dravos’s teachings. But when else has Anton ever been so faithful to Ka Dravos?
“That’s the ka Tariels for you,” Leth says eventually, lying down.
Evain snaps his fingers, and the red light winks out. Leth thinks they’re done talking, but minutes later, when Leth’s stomach has done twisting, Evain says into the darkness, “I’m glad Ronan recruited you.”
Leth doesn’t have to count his breaths for calm anymore. “I’m glad too.”
***
Leth half-wakes to a tap on the tent frame, and Bricks calling through the darkness, “Evain? Your watch is next.”
When Leth fell asleep, he was in his bedroll, several feet away from Evain. Now, he’s moved over, his own bedroll discarded, his cheek on Evain’s chest. His arm rests on Evain’s stomach, and Evain’s arm drapes loose around his shoulders. Evain’s chest rumbles underneath Leth’s ear as he answers, “Just a moment.”
Evain strokes Leth’s arm, fingers barely-there through Leth’s sleeve. Leth doesn’t hate the touch. He’s warm and comfortable—and he’ll ruin it if he wakes up. So, he keeps his eyes closed as Evain sighs a warm gust through his hair. As Evain strokes his arm one more time, then extricates himself.
Leth is colder without Evain beneath him, until fabric rustles through the darkness. Warm weight settles over him, and fingertips touch his forehead like burning feathers. Light as clouds and searing as the sun.
Only when Evain leaves the tent does Leth reach down and confirm that Evain covered him in his own discarded bedding too, wrapping him doubly warm before leaving him alone in the tent. That light, burning sensation tickles his heart. Pulling the bedding closer, Leth waits for his pulse to calm down. It’s a long time before he falls back asleep.
***
They come across the next rift five days later, after checking several inactive sites of previous rifts. Evain’s horse is reacting to something unseen, snorting plumes of frosty breath into the air, when Tally calls out that he senses a rift a mile away.
Leth recalls Georgia Oakven’s map. “That’s a new location.”
“Careful, everyone.” Evain pulls his horse under control. His handsome features draw into an uncharacteristic frown. “New isn’t a good thing.”
Does Leth imagine the way Evain’s gaze lingers on him? He’s been imagining a lot of things, the past few nights.
They leave most of the horses with Bricks, Darren, and Tally, but this time Evain brings Daziroth along. Bricks just mutters, “Better you than me.” She’s obviously no longer concerned for Daziroth’s wellbeing; the overly cuddly stallion has proven impervious to the cold.
Marta recites a prayer-spell over herself and Haldis. Leth adjusts the pin on his red scarf and buttons the ends under his coat, then activates a spell bead for speed and agility.
Daziroth follows like he’s attached to Evain’s shadow, with an eerie amount of focus. For such a large horse, he makes surprisingly little noise winding through the narrow forest trails.
“Do you sense any vaidkos?” Leth asks. His own magic isn’t enough to sense demons without a deliberate, time-consuming spell, so he has to rely on the three contracted mages.
“None,” Haldis says.
“The woods are too quiet,” Marta adds, then hisses through her teeth.
A moment later, Leth feels the sick change in the air. Nauseating, frightening. A burned-hair taste that hooks into his hindbrain, triggering primal instincts that screamrun.
Marta casts another prayer-spell, and this one washes over Leth too. Mother Sephine’s clarity doesn’t erase the fear but eases it enough that Leth can think through the miasma as they continue.
The woods give way abruptly to a ruined village. Stone and log walls broken, roofs gone, piles of rubble smoothed over by snow. Black-red magic flickers beyond half-standing buildings.
Empty, snow-crusted streets lead them to the shelter of a tall, lone-standing stone wall. Evain’s horse hangs behind them, as if guarding their backs. When they stop, Leth says, “I’d like to try sealing the rift this time.”
