Page 30 of Hearts Lost

ITHRONEL

FALLING WATER

“Where are they now?” Aloserin asks.

He’s re-folding his cloak for what I think is the fifth time, and he’s not looking at me. The man’s been cagey all morning. Although I guess that’s no surprise, I tell myself as heat rises in my cheeks. If I’d been practicing some sort of half-naked sword exercises and then turned around to find him staring open-mouthed at me, I’d probably be cagey too.

But, stars, this morning wasn’t even fair. Aloserin had been practically naked, with abdominal muscles that would put the best of King Grathgore’s warriors to shame, and he’d been right there. He’d been literally the only thing in my field of vision.

Which isn’t exactly true, I think as I try to swallow the flush of embarrassment and arousal sizzling through my body. I could have turned away. I could have pretended to be sleeping. I could have done anything other than stare at his sweaty, half-naked body as he’d done some routine with his sword that was probably never intended to be so erotic.

And now he’s staring at me with those intense, dark eyes. I try to smile.

“What now?” I ask, like an idiot.

“The void— animals. Where are they now?”

I smile. He said animals. I’d spent hours yesterday trying to convince him to stop calling them monsters or beasts, that even thinking of them as monsters was going to make him afraid, and that the animals would sense his fear and it would only amplify their own.

And he’s still staring at me. That’s right; he expects some sort of answer. I clear my throat, then stretch out my awareness, as if I wasn’t already perfectly sure of all the animals in the immediate vicinity.

“One of them has moved a little closer,” I say, pointing in the direction of the shadow animal who’s expressed a vague interest in these strange new creatures moving through her woods. “She’s curious. The others are all going about their normal routines.”

Food. Sleep. Travel. Awareness of others. I don’t sense any alarm, although there’s a certain heightened wariness due to our presence. Aloserin’s lips twist into that smile, the one that makes me think he’s trying not to smile.

“You’re good at this,” he says.

Heat burns inside my chest and scorches my cheeks. I open my mouth to respond, but my mind goes blank. I can’t remember the last time anyone said anything like that to me.

But Aloserin is back to focusing on his cloak, untying and retying it as if he hadn’t just said something utterly out of place. After a moment of awkward silence, filled by the chuckle of the river against its banks and the dull, distant thunder of what I’m guessing is some sort of waterfall, he turns back to me. His brow wrinkles.

“Forgive my asking,” he begins, “but, your magic. It seems a strange mix with, uh, your profession.”

I blink. “My what?”

Aloserin winces like he’s trying to find a delicate way to put his thoughts into words.

“With the work you’re doing for King Grathgore,” he says.

I snort. “Like I had a choice,” I reply.

Aloserin is frowning at me in a way that makes me think he’s not following my meaning. I wave my hands, encompassing him, me, both of our worlds.

“Like any of us had a choice,” I continue. “You think I’d be part of the Royal Guard if I could be back at home instead? The king summons, and we must obey, right?”

“Death before dishonor,” he mutters. His lips twist again, only this time his smile flashes like a blade.

“Well, yeah,” I reply. “Only with King Grathgore, it’s usually both. It’s just a matter of which comes first.”

Aloserin laughs then rocks back on his heels and stares at the bundle he’s just made of his cloak. As far as I can tell, it’s identical to his earlier six attempts. He frowns, then bends over and unties it.

“It’s not like that with us,” he says. “King Galan’s very big on choice.”

I make a face. Does he expect me to believe that?

“Didn’t you just say death before dishonor?” I reply.

“Oh, that’s not King Galan’s saying,” he answers, without looking up from the neat little package he’s making with his cloak. “That’s my family’s personal motto. One of them, at least.”