Falling Light (Game of Shadows #2)(63)

Together they both looked at the path.

“I don’t think I don’t have the energy to walk up that hill,” she muttered.

“We don’t have to.” He put an arm around her and steered her toward the tiny cabin. “We can sleep right here.”

She didn’t object, but she asked, “Shouldn’t we let Astra know we’re back?”

“She already knows. She knows everything that happens on this land.”

He kicked the door shut behind them. The cabin was chilly and in deep shadow as the last of the daylight fled, but the bed was right in front of them and he had plenty of thermal blankets.

He helped her to undress, and then she turned and helped him. With the matter-of-factness of the immensely exhausted, they climbed naked into the bed. He reached out for her, and after only the slightest hesitation, she came readily into his arms.

The feeling of her slender, warm body against his was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced. It was a haven that he couldn’t have known to imagine before they had come together, and it felt like salvation. He meant to tell her all of that, but his overtaxed body hauled him into darkness.

No. His spirit rebelled and fought back to awareness.

He was not done yet, and he would not accept his body’s limitations.

Mentally he assessed Mary. Like he had, she had fallen deeply asleep, nestled against him with her head on his shoulder. He eased into her mind. She had not yet started dreaming but lay drifting in darkness.

Mary, he whispered.

Mm, she grunted. Her body nuzzled closer to his, and his arms tightened around her.

You can let your body rest while we talk, he said, keeping his mental voice easy and quiet. Remember when I did it earlier?

She murmured, Don’t know how to do that.

Just follow my voice and let go.

Still sounding mostly asleep, she asked, You sure?

He had to smile, in spite of himself. I’m sure. We need to finish our earlier conversation. Come with me. Please.

He felt her spirit rouse, and as she joined him, he created a scene around him.

A great hall in an early Norman castle appeared, with a long, scarred wooden table, a massive fireplace and suits of armor displayed at various points around the room. The castle was from the first strong memory he had recovered of a lifetime he and Mary had spent together long ago. This was the life that had taught him the simple, powerful lesson of happiness.

After he formed the image of the great hall, he created a mental construct of his physical self. This time he chose to wear a simple gray T-shirt and jeans.

Mary was learning fast. When the scene appeared, she formed a construct of her body too. She still looked sleepy, and she was wearing checked flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers. Her tawny hair lay loose on her shoulders, curling in crazy directions. He almost laughed out loud when he saw her.

She looked around the great hall, blue eyes wide. “I know this place,” she breathed. “I’ve been here before.”

“Yes, you know this place,” he told her. “We lived here once. I wasn’t going to say anything about it. I meant to wait and see if you remembered it on your own, but I changed my mind.”

“I’m glad you did.” Her face filled with wonder. She wandered over to the table to touch it with the fingertips of both hands.

He walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “You were trying to tell me something earlier, and I did a bad job of listening. I’m sorry.”

She turned around to face him. “What changed your mind?”

“Your growing closeness to Nicholas.”

Her expression filled with wary confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“I was jealous as hell, but that’s beside the point.” He touched her cheek, her lips. “You said earlier that you thought I was beautiful, but I couldn’t hear you. But then today I watched how you were with Nicholas. It’s remarkable how much the two of you have bonded, even though he’s a warrior too, and I realized that I really had put up a wall between you and me. Astra had told me repeatedly over the years that while we might hope to reunite with you, twinned souls don’t always come together or see eye to eye. I . . . listened too well to her warnings.”

“Of course I think you’re beautiful. How could I not?” She clasped his wrists gently. “Killing is an ugly thing, but that doesn’t make you ugly. If you enjoyed the killing you would be ugly. If you killed for ugly reasons, that would make you ugly. You don’t, do you?”

He stroked that fabulous hair off of her face as he thought through his reply. He wanted to get their talk right this time, so he chose his words with care. “I enjoy the physicality of a fight, the intellectual challenge and pitting myself against a worthy opponent. I enjoy winning and exacting justice—no, that goes beyond enjoyment. I need that. Do I enjoy killing someone, or watching their life drain out of them? No. I can see how I might become twisted that way, though.”

“But you’re not twisted that way. I’ve seen so much of you these last several days. You’re not just a warrior.” She gave him a smile. “You are a champion. Don’t you see? That’s one of the reasons why you’re so beautiful to me. Part of healing is the knife. Sometimes you have to cut the cancers out.”

“Yes,” he said.

Her smile faded. “Please listen carefully to what I say. It’s important to me that you don’t misunderstand this either. Astra’s warning carried some weight. We’ve been here before, you and me, haven’t we? I don’t mean this place.” She gestured around at the great hall. “I mean at this kind of juncture in our relationship. We haven’t always understood each other, or been successful in resolving the differences that lay between us.”