Reign of the Fallen (Reign of the Fallen #1)(32)
“It’s no one’s fault.” Simeon hides his face in his hands, a gesture that makes my heart ache even more.
I understand how Master Cymbre is feeling. I keep thinking, if I’d just let him go into the ravine first, the Shade would have grabbed me instead. Evander would’ve had time to flee, or maybe even fight—after all, he’s the better swordsman. Or was.
I wipe the wetness from my cheeks and lick the salt from my lips, surprised I haven’t cried my eyes dry in the last several days. The potion must be wearing off.
“Guess this means you all won’t be returning to the Deadlands anytime soon.” One of Kasmira’s crew, a burly mate whose name I can’t remember, draws my attention as he plunks himself down opposite Simeon and Danial.
“Maybe,” Jax grunts without looking toward the fire. He still hasn’t moved from his spot on the far side of the hill, where he’s no more than a solid outline in the dark.
Simeon glances toward his partner, his brows raised, but Jax says nothing more. “There’s still the matter of hunting the giant Shade.” His face is barely recognizable without his usual good-natured grin. “It’ll have to be stopped, and I expect King Wylding will order Jax and me to take care of it, since he knows us best. I won’t agree if he expects us to go at it alone, though.” He twists one of the gold rings on his fingers, seeming lost in thought. A few moments later, he adds, “Twenty of his best archers and several vials of liquid fire potion to light their arrows ought to be enough.”
Danial presses his lips together and shakes his head. Though he doesn’t say anything, there’s a storm brewing in his kohl-rimmed eyes. Simeon is definitely in for a long night of arguing.
I wish I could save them the trouble and heartache. But if they knew about my plans to go into the Deadlands and kill the Shade myself or die trying, they’d probably lock me in a room for all eternity and say it was for my own good.
So I’ll keep my silence until I leave. Just as soon as I stop taking these calming potions and have my wits about me. Because when I return to the Deadlands, I need to make sure I stay alive long enough to watch the monster die.
“Sparrow?” Kasmira’s voice cuts into my thoughts, making me wince. Her lips are pursed. When I meet her eyes, she gestures to the fire and asks, “Why don’t you say a few words?”
I stagger to my feet and take an unsteady step toward the fire. My throat is too tight to allow any words to come out, but I pull a crumpled piece of parchment from my back pocket. A map of Grenwyr Province, one Evander had been working on practically since we met, detailing all our favorite places. I clench my hand around the parchment until it’s little more than a tiny wrinkled ball and toss it into the flames, then fall to my knees in the grass as Evander’s dreams rise into the night sky on puffs of smoke, vanishing like the rest of him.
No one speaks again for a long while. Kasmira passes around a flask, but it’s too much effort to raise my hand to take it.
Eventually, she and the crew make their way back to the Paradise, and Simeon douses the fire before he and Danial stumble down the hill to bed. I sit in the cold grass, watching smoke from the fire’s ashes curl into the velvet black sky, until Jax climbs to his feet and offers me a hand. “Coming?”
I nod but push myself to my feet without his help. We trudge back to the palace as the sky lightens to a misty gray. And when faced with the choice of returning to my dark, empty room or following Jax into his, it doesn’t take long to decide.
“Sorry about the, uh, mess.” Jax kicks his spare cloak out of the narrow entryway. There’s another pile of clothes on his bed—unwashed, by the sharp, spicy scent of them—that he shoves aside to make a place for me to sit. Two lanterns flicker to life, then Jax grabs the wooden chair from his desk and sinks into it, facing the bed.
Hugging my knees to my chest and pushing my back against the wall, I try to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress. The lanterns don’t shine bright enough to illuminate the far corners of the room, which is just as well because it looks like Jax keeps his life’s belongings stashed in careless heaps.
I blink, realizing I can’t remember the last time I was in here.
Feeling Jax’s gaze on me, I clear my throat and point to the wardrobe at the back of the room. “You know, they gave you that so you could put your things inside it.”
He runs a hand through his raven hair, then shrugs. “Sorry.” Reaching out with his foot, he kicks a dagger under the bed. “It’s not usually this bad. I . . .” He swallows, and I brace myself for the sting of hearing Evander’s name. “Well, you know.”
My shoulders slump in relief. I follow Jax’s gaze to the stretch of wall beside the desk and suck in a breath at the number of holes punched there. Sure enough, when I peer at his right fist, his knuckles are raw.
Shivering, I climb to my feet. I shouldn’t be here, intruding on his grief. There’s nothing I can offer Jax, even though he’s been my friend almost my whole life. I’m all out of sympathy, and the last thing he needs is the added weight of someone else’s sorrow.
As I stride to the door, Jax hurries after me and puts a hand on my arm, gazing down at me from barely an inch away. His breath is hot on my chilled face. “You just got here.”
“That’s right. And now I’m going.” I tug my arm from his grasp. “Goodnight, Jax.”