Page 62 of A Legacy of the Light

I haven’t told anyone but Rach this. I feel comfortable enough with Reyne that I want to share this part of myself, she did just save me. But I can’t share my full truth. Not yet.

“You’re entitled to feel what you feel, lass. Anyone who says otherwise isn’t someone you need in your life.”

Her simple view strikes me. If my other friends had been the same, I might not have lost so many. They didn’t understand—or didn’t care to.

“Thanks, Reyne.”

I make us a cup of tea for something to do, and join her on the sofa. We try to make light conversation, both continually glancing at the clock, but there’s a tinge in the air around us. We both know it was close tonight.

“How is the research going with Finneus?” she asks.

I’m about to reply when someone knocks at the door. We both jump to our feet and Reyne unsheathes the sword at her hip.

“Stay here,” she whispers.

“Wait!” I stop her before she opens the door, grabbing my favorite kitchen knife and backing into a corner of the room.

Reyne moves to the door, unlocking it quietly. She pulls it open merely an inch to see who is on the other side. Her weight is balanced, prepared to fight whoever is there if needed.

I hold myself perfectly still, willing myself to blend into shadow. Her shoulders loosen and she steps back to open the door fully.

Tavish stands in the hall, his face and armor covered in dirt and blood. Reyne moves to let him in the room.

“Your father is okay,” he tells her before she can ask.

She sighs with relief and I almost want to cry for her.

“He’s in the ballroom seeing to the wounded. You should go to him. We’re safe now.”

Reyne thanks him and rushes out of the room without saying goodbye.

Tavish walks slowly, with a slight limp, and shuts the door behind him and locks it. He turns and scans the room for me, not immediately spotting me in the corner. That’s when I notice the blood running down the side of his head.

I rush forward. “You’re bleeding!”

Tavish looks at me in confusion. “There you are.” His speech is slow, as though he’s completely drained. I take his arm and lead him to the sofa. He takes off the weapons and chest armor before flopping down onto the cushion.

He nods at the knife I discard next to him on the sofa. “Seems to be your weapon of choice.” His joke falls flat.

“I felt better having some kind of weapon,” I tell him, swiping it up again and taking it back to the kitchen.

I get him some water. “Here, drink this. And I’ll get a cloth for your face.” He takes it from me and finishes it quickly.

I hurry into the bathroom and grab a washcloth, running it under the hot water until it’s soaked through. Under the sink I find a small bowl and fill that, too.

When I return to the living room, Tavish’s head is resting on the back of the sofa and his long legs are stretched in front of him.

“Are you okay?” I ask softly before tentatively wiping the warm cloth across his forehead.

He tilts toward me and smiles softly, keeping his eyes closed. His long, dark lashes fan across his cheek.

“Yes, I’m okay. They’re gone. We managed to push them out, but they didn’t go without a fight.”

“Are you okay?” Tavish asks me the same question. Opening his eyes to look at me, the black outer ring pulses.

I decide to answer honestly. “No, I’m not. I-I didn’t think I’d ever see something like that.”

Tavish gently takes my hand in his and we stare at each other. He says nothing but rubs a finger over the back of my knuckles in comfort. Silence stretches between us.