Page 25 of Death Will Follow

“That’s not true,” he said, repeating it several times, desperate to convince her.

“I’ve been avoiding everyone. Even you. I’m so sorry.”

She gripped his cloak and kissed him tenderly before laying her head against his chest once more. They stood quietly for a time, her breath gradually slowing to match the steady beat of his heart.

“It’s exhausting,” she said finally. “Feeling like a stranger everywhere you go.”

It was a sentiment Callan knew all too well. Nivali was a part of him, and he knew he would be tethered to the land forever. But he’d spent the better part of his life a stranger in strange lands, living out of a saddlebag and sleeping rough under a blanket of stars. Nova tensed and pulled away to look up at him.

“You feel the same,” she observed, and he was briefly taken aback by her ability to read him.

“You are my home,” he murmured, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. “I belong wherever you are.”

A smile bloomed under her reddened nose. “You know, for a warrior, you’re terribly romantic.”

“Where would you like to go?” he asked, shrugging off the compliment. “To put down roots?” The freezing rain had changed over to heavy flakes, but neither took notice.

“Silvergard,” Nova replied without hesitation. “It’s the only place I’ve felt at home since arriving in Aemoria. Nox and Lucan, they’re my family.”

“Then it’s settled,” Callan said, with a resolute nod. “Once this business is taken care of, you and I will return to Silvergard. I’ll spend my nights doing your bidding and my days doing the same. And when I reach the end of my life, I’ll die content knowing I brought you some measure of happiness.”

“You’ll come with me? I can’t stand the thought of being apart from you again. And Silvergard is actually beautiful, despite what folk say—”

“Of course, I will,” he answered before she could list off any further justifications.

The five months they’d been apart had been excruciating, and that was before they had both claimed the bond. For him, separation was no longer even a faint possibility. Besides, he’d already seen the rest of the Realm. Silvergard was the one territory he had yet to fully explore. Nova relaxed into his arms, and he pressed a kiss to her temple, thanking the gods she chose him as her safe space.

“Thorn has received responses from all the Nobles,” he said.

Nova tilted her head up. “And?”

“They’ve all agreed to come. The Council meeting will take place at Pyralis in one week.”

Nova sighed, pulling out of his embrace but sliding her hands into his, her reddened fingers like icicles against his palms.

“I suppose we’d better come up with a plan then.” She sniffed once and tugged him along the dock, leading him away from the angry sea and back toward the warmth and comfort of the Estate.

Twelve

Their party departed Nivali with little fanfare the following week. The Estate hadn’t yet woken as Callan and the others readied their horses, fastening buckles and tucking last-minute items into the packs strapped to the animals’ backs. Someone spoke his name, and Callan turned to find Liv standing outside the entrance to the Great Hall. She lifted her chin, beckoning him closer. He tensed his jaw, readying his resolve as he patted the side of Frost’s neck, then walked to the base of the stairs. When Liv held her cupped hand out in front of her, he swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the weight of the small blue stone he carried in the leather pouch at his hip.

He’d agreed to return it to her when she called in the favor he’d promised. Callan reached for his pouch, fully expecting her to demand the trinket. Instead, the seer tipped her hand, and a fine silver chain tumbled from her palm and dangled between her pinched fingers. When Callan didn’t immediately take it, she extended her arm further, offering it to him.

“For you,” Liv said, lifting her brows. She eyed him expectantly, a faint smile on her face. A face he might trust were it not for the flicker of intuition smoldering within his chest, warning him to be wary.

Burying his suspicion for the moment, Callan approached his uncle’s consort and took the chain, careful not to touch her. He flattened his palm and inspected the gift: a silver medallion embossed with the all-seeing Eye of Brumal, the one-eyed god of transformation. Winter folk wore such pendants to ward off evil spirits. Callan himself had worn a similar medallion earlier in life, but he couldn’t recall what had become of it over the years. He closed his fingers around the necklace, raising his eyes to meet Liv’s, his forehead creased.

“For your protection,” she explained. “And I haven’t singled you out. I gave one to Thorn as well.” She gestured at his uncle briefly before clasping her hands in front of her.

Thorn stood a short distance away, busying himself with his horse and seemingly ignoring both Nova and Bryn as best he could. An identical medallion hung proudly in the center of his chest. Callan turned back to the seer and, as a matter of propriety, tipped his head in a silent show of appreciation. Raising the chain, he slipped it over his head and tucked the pendant inside his tunic. Thorn brushed past him then, climbing the few steps to where Liv stood, ready to bid her goodbye. Callan took his leave, joining Nova and Bryn by the horses.

A handful of minutes later, Thorn led the party on his mahogany mare as they picked their way up the steep, snow-dusted slope leading to the portal cave on the southern cliff. Behind him, Callan and Nova rode side by side on Frost and Shade in the middle, while Bryn brought up the rear on a straw-colored gelding borrowed from the stables. They rode in silence for the most part. While Thorn had never warmed to Nova, Callan felt his uncle had been treating her with greater suspicion since learning of her father’s identity.

Before long, they arrived at the mouth of the cave on the high cliff. Callan looked down at his uncle’s fleet of ships, bobbing like bath toys in the harbor below. Thorn paused at the entrance, and a glimmer of magic rippled faintly across the opening. One by one, they passed through the portal, emerging from the great tree in Pyralis on the other side only moments time later.

The sky was cloudless and the midday sun rather hot. Callan closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The air hung thick with the bright, sweet scent of ripe apples. Seemingly eager to reach their destination, Thorn wasted no time urging his horse out of the clearing and through the dense underbrush toward the packed-dirt path. Once out of the woods, he nudged his mount in the ribs and took off at a canter, the animal’s hooves kicking up a cloud of dust behind him. Bryn picked up her pace as well, and both were soon out of sight.

Callan and Nova proceeded at a more leisurely pace. They held hands loosely as their horses plodded along side by side. Nova seemed pleased to have Shade out of the stables. She’d spent an hour combing the mare’s dark coat and brushing out her mane and tail for the journey. Callan recalled the last time they had traveled the worn cart road, sharing a horse long before they had acknowledged their feelings for one another. He smiled to himself at the memory of Nova nestled between his thighs, her back resting against his chest.