Page 10 of In Your Light

Fyn spun around to find Pax standing there, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

He shook his head, angry enough that for a moment, his horns almost took shape, then were gone in the blink of an eye. Pax huffed and snorted, his faun barely contained under his human skin, his voice deep with authority. “You went where?”

Fyn had never seen his brother so angry. He cringed internally, knowing there’d be no charming his way out of this.

Blight.

Chapter

Four

HADEOM

The rain had settled in for the day, drumming steadily on the shingled roof of the hut. Beyond the open doorway, the river moved in a blur of grey and silver, swollen from days of wet weather. Mist clung to the water like a second skin. Every so often a gust of wind bent the reeds along the bank and rattled the wooden shutters. The cold seeped into everything. Hadeom was not immune to the cold, but he didn’t mind it.

He was supposed to be resting.

Cern had told him so, anyway. Stay in bed. Keep warm. Drink your tea. Give yourself time to recover.

He had managed three out of four.

Find yourself again.

He hadn’t managed that yet either.

Though, to be fair, he reasoned, it had taken eons to lose himself. It might take the same to find himself.

Wrapped in a blanket, he sat on the narrow cot by the window, cradling an empty teacup between his hands. The fire had burned down to glowing coals. The room smelled faintly of smoke, damp wood, and the last traces of tea.

He felt.... Well, he wasn’t sure. Not himself, but he had no idea who he was supposed to be anymore.

Outside, the rain fell in sympathy with his mood.

He sighed and glanced toward the path that went down to the river.

Nothing unusual. Just water, an old jetty, and rain.

The sensible thing would have been to lie down and sleep. Instead, he found himself listening for footsteps. Listening for a voice. Listening for the snap of damp twigs under feet.

Fyn had said he might stop by.

Might.

A dangerous word. It was ridiculous.

Hadeom wasn't waiting for tea. Not really.

The tea was excellent, of course. Fyn had brought the good kind, the fragrant leaves Hadeom knew could only be freshly dried. But that wasn't the reason.

The reason was that Fyn arrived carrying sunlight.

Well, not literally of course. Though it felt that way.

Hadeom had only seen the sun when Fyn was here last time, and it hadn’t made an appearance since. Fyn had pushed through the door with dew in his hair and brightness in his smile, filling the little hut with stories, laughter, and warmth. The room had seemed larger when he was in it. The river less lonely. The rain less endless.

It had only been a brief visit, but Hadeom hadn’t been able to think of much else.

It was stupid, really.