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Fort turns away from me and faces the water, his arms crossed. He’s closed off, closer to the man I grew up knowing than the one I’ve come to understand over the past few months.
“Why would he say that I am not ready to see him yet because I’m thinking of you?”
“He didn’t say that. He said, ‘You still think of him,’ which is not the same thing.”
“Who the hell else do I think of?” Now, I cross my arms.
“I don’t know what it means.” Fort’s anger doesn’t deflate in the least. “But I do know that I can’t fight what I cannot see. And if this bastard is reaching you while we’re sleeping, then I think one of us needs to remain awake at all times.”
“Then I’ll start tonight.” I move back to the nearest tree and lean against it. “You get some sleep, and I’ll keep watch. Then, we’ll swap tomorrow night. Or, I’ll sleep on Shadow.”
“Carleah—”
“No. I’m telling you that I know you are not him. That the man who is seeking me out is my enemy, and you, Fort, are the exact opposite of that. I love you. You love me. There’s no way you’d do what the prophecy speaks of.”
“And if you’re wrong? If I am the one causing this?”
“Then we’ll deal with your crazed alternate personality when the time comes.” I try to smile, to lessen the weight on his shoulders, but my words are not nearly the amused comfort I’d intended them to be. “Fort, I believe in you. In the good that you still seem blind to. You are everything that is honorable in this realm, and I will believe in you until the day I draw my last breath.” I use words he spoke to me not long ago, hoping to reach him, but he’s so withdrawn, so pulled back that it tightens a knot in my chest.
“I will not be the cause of your pain,” he finally says. “I would rather impale myself on my blade than be this person they speak of.”
“You are not the Son of Flame. If you were, don’t you think he would have started coming to me sooner? You and I have been together for as long as I’ve been alive. Why would it only start now? According to Bowman, I touched that blade when I’d been an infant. So that prophecy has been in place for just as long.”
Fort considers, but his expression remains unchanged. “I don’t know. But there’s a reason for him coming to you now, and I know we’re not going to find it until we reach the elves.”
“Then get some sleep. I need you awake enough to hold me on Shadow tomorrow while I rest.” I lean forward and press my lips to his. I don’t linger, though, especially when he doesn’t fully return the gesture.
“You tell me if this happens again.”
“Of course,” I promise. “Now, I’m going to keep watch. You get some rest. We have maybe a few hours of night left if we’re lucky.”
“I’m no longer tired,” Fort tells me as he drops down on the edge of the cliff, his feet hanging over the ledge.
I sit beside him, leaning against his shoulder as we wait for the sun to come up.
As we remain here, in silence save for the sound of waves crashing below, my mind drifts back to the shadowy form staring at me through thick smoke.
“Remember that this is what awaits you should we fail.”
Chapter 11
Fort
The day’s travel is thankfully uneventful, and before too long, we’re landing just outside of a small village. People move about happily below, clearly not at all concerned that the realm is supposedly teetering on the edge of complete and utter collapse.
There’s a part of me that’s jealous of their naivety. A part of me that wishes I, too, was so incredibly unaware. But then again, if I were, how would I help put things back the way they’re supposed to be?
Carleah dismounts first, and I follow. She turns to Shadow. “We need to keep a low profile, will you be okay staying out of sight?”
The horse drops its head and lets out a snort then turns and trots off into the trees. Carleah ties a scarf around her hair, shielding the white strands from peering eyes. Then, she turns to me. "Shall we?"
I offer her a nod, and then we move into the village even though we have only a few coins on us thanks to what William shoved in our saddle bags. Still, it should be enough for a warm meal and an ale before we head back out and find camp somewhere outside of the village.
The men who grin at Carleah make my skin crawl. My hand itches to close around the hilt of my blade, but I shove the sensation down. Normally, it wouldn’t bother me so much. But I’m already feeling ridiculously inadequate thanks to the bastard who is haunting her dreams.
The pub is crawling with people, and the only space I can find for us is at the very end of the bar. Carleah sits, and I stand, my back to the bar top so I can scan the crowd for anyone who might be paying far more attention than they need to be.
“What can I get for ye’?”
