Page 78 of Reap & Sow

“We did.”

They stared at one another. Our Pact is nearly done. She didn’t say it aloud; to do so would make it real. Retrieving her brothers had been the first part of the agreement. Once they had the mirror, their business would be concluded in full. Nothing would bind them any longer. Perhaps if Eda didn’t acknowledge it, Kit wouldn’t either. She did not want him to.

He said, “I came back as soon as I could. I thought—I thought they might have captured you.”

“This mantle is a treasure. I hid behind a butcher’s shop, and they walked right past me. I’m sure they’d have spotted me without it, but…” She paused. Inhaled sharply. “Your arm.”

His shirtsleeve was gone. He’d ripped it off and tied it about his forearm, heavy with blood. Eda had thought the moonlight responsible for Kit’s wan complexion.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not healing!” All his other injuries had faded inside a day or less.

“Silver sword.”

“You look like you’re about to faint.”

“I’ve never fainted in my life. Don’t intend to start now.”

“Kit, this is serious. You should’ve gotten Robin to look at it straightaway—”

“I had to come back for you,” he snapped.

Eda’s mouth closed. The Pact, she reminded herself. He’s talking about the Pact. Yet to look at Kit’s fierce expression now, she could not be sure. “We can walk back to Robin if your arm pains you. It can’t be much farther.” She gestured at her dusty boots. “My feet won’t fall off just yet.”

“You will ride.”

“You’re injured. And your horse form tires you most, doesn’t it?”

“Both our hurts will be soothed the quicker we return.” His expression flickered. “Carrying you is no hardship.”

He extended his hand.

Something warm swelled in Eda then. Here on this moonlit road, the dawn felt very far away. The shadows were her lot in life, and she’d always dreamed of outrunning them. Why now, with him, did she wish the night could spin on and on? The light of day illuminated all the truths of what she’d done. The enemies that lay in wait.

Don’t take me back to the Oriana, part of her would beg of him. Take me to some foreign shore. So far away that even Mr. Night’s power can’t reach. The place where Viola and Crispin stood together beneath summer stars.

But her brothers were waiting, and so they rode.

Kit’s pace faltered—a pained, slow gait—but his long legs covered better ground than human ones. Eda wrapped her fingers in his silky mane and lay against his neck. Unbearable fondness tightened her throat. What a fascinating, terrible, wonderful creature he was. Would he remember her when she was bones and dust? Would he spare a thought for the mortal woman he’d once danced with and carried through the night?

The Oriana was not as they left it. Still docked on the fringes of the riverfolk’s fleet, little else was familiar. A plant pot had been kicked over on the deck. Inside, the cabin was in disarray. Lawrie lay groaning across the bench where Eda usually slept. Robin was perched by his hip, wrapping his bare leg.

Ben sat opposite with his head in his hands. He jumped up the moment Eda came in.

“Eda.” He engulfed her in his arms. Strong. Familiar. She allowed herself a moment to breathe him in. He smelled different than Lawrie—something animal and warm. Hay, maybe. He’d worked so long in the stables that it had seeped into his very skin. “I wanted to go back for you, but the demon swore he’d find you quicker.”

“You were right to stay. You’re safe here.” She glanced at Lawrie. “Will he be all right?”

Robin’s mouth pursed. “The bite is deep. I’ve cleaned and treated the wound as best I can, but I’m no healer. Even if I were…”

Lawrie drew a pained breath. His eyes were red, his face pale. A bottle of amber drink and a bloody pile of rags littered the dining table. Eda spotted a long red-tipped threading needle. Her stomach rolled.

“Lawrie?” She knelt and clutched his hand.

“She’s trying to say that I might lose the leg,” he rasped. His bloodshot eyes slid toward Robin. “Or worse. Right?”

“Neither is certain. You may yet make a full recovery.”