Chapter XLIV - Egan

Hello All!

Ashley: Wow, thank you for that very high praise! I really appreciate it. Yes, for Zoe, being open and vulnerable is the thing she least wants to do, but Deus is forcing her in that direction. I'm glad it came off okay because I assure you I was quite nervous about the whole chapter (actually I rewrote part of it that I will not be posting here, but I think Tancred's emotions/feelings come off a lot better in the rewritten version).

TaedonsGirl: Hey Beautiful! :) Okay, I'll work on that sentence, I can see what you mean about it being a little awkward. I try to churn out the chapters quickly (obviously sometimes I fail), but that means sometimes I completely overlook grammar and such. I'm glad you like Garrick, too! He's kinda fun to write. Hmm...Tancred seems stiff? I can see that. Like I noted to Ashley, I did some rewriting, and I think he comes off better in it. Thanks for the input though. And yes, Zoe is definitely stubborn like me. :-D Why do you think I love her so much?!

Britt: LOL, you SWOONED?? :-D That just makes my day.

Kirk: Thanks!

Michelle: You weren't satisfied with this section between Zoe and Tancred? Haha, that's good because their relationship isn't over yet! It's got quite a ways left to go. The reason Tancred did not reveal his love to Zoe is because he knows she's not ready for it yet. He's biding his time just a little longer, for she needs to discover a few things first (like, hopefully--if all goes according to plan, which it never does--that she loves him too? PLEASE, ZOE, cooperate!).

Anonymous: You're welcome!

Starr: Thank you very much! I appreciate your input.

Libby: I'm very glad you liked how Tancred thinks (not clouded by much emotion) because that's exactly how he's supposed to think and that means I'm doing my job well. He's very logical and can be quite unemotional. Meaning, he won't admit he loves Zoe until he figures out that no matter how long he thinks about it and tries to get around it--he'll still get the same conclusion: he loves her. Oh, and I'll work on describing Zoe a little more, too. Thanks! :)

Anonymous: Here you go! More Zoe! Enjoy. :)

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Final negotiations with Brysa were concluded the next day. A formal peace treaty was signed and general goodwill was being tentatively extended between the peoples of Elangsia and Aerilya. When Zoe, Tancred, and King Jaeger left Ruma, they were accompanied by droves of newly freed slaves who were returning to their homeland and families.

Saying goodbye to Brysa was harder than Zoe had anticipated. The young queen had stood at the end of a formal line of well-wishers as the Aerilyan men-at-arms and royal delegation took their leave from Ruma. Prince Garrick stood with her, and Zoe noted with no small amusement the glances that passed between him and Brysa. Garrick would stay for at least another month. After that.... Zoe smiled faintly. In the space of a month, anything could happen, she thought.

Tancred preceded Zoe and he courteously bent over Brysa’s hand when he said goodbye. “I wish you well, my lady.”

“Thank you. Go with Deus, Sir Hunter.”

Tancred moved on and fell into conversation with Garrick, leaving Zoe face-to-face with Brysa. They stared at each other for a long moment. Zoe’s heart was full and Brysa’s eyes brimmed with similar emotions.

“I’ll miss you more than you know,” the queen said at length, her voice soft.

Zoe smiled, but it was a cheerless smile. “Me too. Maybe it won’t be forever, though.”

“You’ll come back to visit?”

“That depends on where Deus plans to take me next,” Zoe replied noncommittally. At the same time her chest constricted as she realized she might never see the woman in front of her again.

“Will you stay in Aerilya?”

Zoe gnawed her lip and her gaze flicked away from Brysa’s for a moment. “I don’t know.”

“I can think of at least one good reason you should stay.” Brysa cleared her throat gently and pointedly looked over at Tancred.

Heat flared up Zoe’s neck and continued rising until her whole face was engulfed. “Wha—” she furiously started to whisper at Brysa, but the queen stepped closer, pulled Zoe into a close embrace, and interrupted her.

“Come now, you cannot be so blind as to miss the fact that Tancred cares for you.”

Zoe’s heart thundered and her grip around Brysa tightened convulsively. “Brysa, stop,” she whispered fiercely. “There’s more to the situation than anybody could possibly understand.”

Brysa pulled back and looked at Zoe knowingly. “I understand that he is a good man,” she murmured emphatically. “And that you would be a fool to throw him away.”

Disbelieving, Zoe just stared at her. Where in Aerilya had all this come from? “Brysa! I can’t—”

“Just promise me one thing,” Brysa interrupted again, speaking in a quick, low voice. “I’ve shut off my heart and emotions before and I suffered terribly for it. I am just now learning how to have a life of freedom in Deus. I hate seeing you continue down a path that you need not tread on any longer.” Her bright blue eyes searched Zoe’s face intently. “Now swear to me that you will never settle for anything less than Deus’ best.”

“I swear it,” murmured Zoe. Her hands shook a little as she dropped her arms to her sides and finished in an undertone, “I just have no reason to believe that Tancred fits into Deus’ best.”

Brysa stepped back, a small smile on her face. “Stay safe, my friend. I will be praying for you.”

“And I for you,” Zoe replied softly. She looked long at Brysa, memorizing the queen’s face, and then turned away and strode out of the castle to the courtyard where Brac was already saddled and waiting for her. She swung up and gripped the leather reins tightly.

“You ready?”

She looked over at Tancred who had ridden up on Chale and was looking at her quizzically. Remembering Brysa’s words of just a moment earlier, Zoe felt the second blush in as many minutes climbing up her neck. Since when did you start blushing? she silently berated herself, feeling humiliated.

“Of course,” she replied roughly, trying to hide her embarrassment. She did not even look up at Tancred. In her mind’s eye she could already see the amused twinkle in his gaze, and right then she did not care to view it in actuality.

Before aught else could be said, she heeled Brac on and rode to the head of the contingent. They reached the open portcullis and she hesitated. Stopping Brac, who chomped his bit and pranced in place as the other riders passed him, she twisted around and took a long look at the castle behind her. What had once been her prison had become a haven of rest during the last week. Where grim darkness had once had a stronghold, now the light of peace was beginning to shine.

Standing at the door was Brysa, a slender figure swathed in pale blue and shadowed by Garrick’s broader form. Her black hair blew in the breeze and one hand was lifted in a gesture of farewell. Zoe’s eyes burned. Silently, she raised her right hand in a motion similar to the queen’s.

Goodbye, Brysa.

Then she dropped her hand, turned forward again, and rode out from the palace courtyard. Tancred had waited for her and Chale fell into step with Brac. Zoe said nothing to Tancred and he did not initiate conversation either. Within the hour, they exited the capital city of Elangsia.

At long last, Ruma was behind them.

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It took a week to reach Aerilya’s capital, Bryndor. Along the way Lady Shyla had met up with them, bringing with her the remainder of the Hunter’s band. She and the men had emptied the Hunter’s camp and came along to join in the festivities at Bryndor. Zoe was glad to be among the men again, though there were achingly noticeable missing faces. Jaedon was gone forever, as were York, Jortyn, Kylle and so many others. Geoffrey, Richard, Warrick, and Jerome were still gone with Kristalyn. Zoe prayed they would return soon. She missed the younger boys’ enthusiasm and Warrick’s firm yet gentle leadership.

Zoe was given a room of her own in the Aerilyan castle-palace, called Trildur. It was huge; boasting a large feather bed, a washstand, a wardrobe, and a balcony that faced northward. Their whole company arrived at Bryndor late at night, so Zoe scarcely remembered Tancred’s firm hand on her elbow as they walked down the labyrinth of torch-lit halls, or her bleary thanks to the maidservant who showed her the room and her subsequent collapse into the warm, soft bed.

When she woke the next day, it was to the sound of a slightly metallic wheezing sound. Blinking a couple times, she stretched and sat up, looking around to locate the source of the odd sound. Her gaze landed on a small figure curled up at the end of her bed and her brows shot up with surprise. Egan, his scales a mellow reddish-golden color, lay in a tight little ball atop her thick coverlet. He had definitely not been there the night before. After Egan had arrived in Ruma the week before and given Tancred the message from Kristalyn, Tancred had sent him back to his sister. As far as Zoe knew, the pseudo-dragon was still supposed to be with Kristalyn.

Maybe Kristalyn arrived in Bryndor last night, after us, Zoe mused doubtfully. But why would Egan come to sleep in Zoe’s room rather than Tancred’s? She gazed down at the sleeping creature with interest. The last time she had seen Egan, the oddest thing had happened: she could almost swear she had understood the creature’s strange clicking, hissing words when he spoke with Tancred. Ever since then she had been curious to test her theory out; to see if she really could understand the language of the little pseudo-dragon.

Finally she moved closer and bent over Egan. “Hey little guy,” she murmured. “What are you doing here?”

Egan’s eyelids twitched open and his unfocused golden gaze stared blankly forward for a moment. Then realization of where he was seemed to come over him and he uncurled himself and began hissing something indiscernible at Zoe.

“Why aren’t you with Tancred?” she asked, reaching forward and lightly petting his head and neck. “Did you come to Bryndor with Kristalyn?”

He arched beneath her touch, much like a contented cat, seeming more than happy to sit there and let her stroke him. He clicked out a short sentence in reply to Zoe’s question.

To her astonishment, words seemed to materialize in her brain directly after he finished clacking: You. Sleep.

“W-what?” stuttered Zoe, astonished. She dropped her hand from Egan’s head, trying to assimilate what was happening.

Egan huffed. Like you.

The words were distinct and impossible to misunderstand. Excitement and bewilderment swirled together in Zoe’s brain. “You like me?”

He nodded happily, then continued speaking, too quickly for Zoe to catch his words. “Wait, slow down,” she said faintly. “You’re talking to fast for me to keep up. What did you just say?”

With an exaggerated roll of his golden eyes, Egan began clicking and hissing with affected slowness. This time Zoe caught every word.

Like. You. Want. To. Sleep. Here.

“You...you wanted to sleep in my room because you like me?” she repeated slowly.

He nodded his head. Tray be mad.

Confused, both by the words she heard and the fact that she could hear words, Zoe repeated dimly, “Tray?”

Tancred.

It still did not make sense. “Huh?”

Egan curled his lip and appeared to be laughing silently at her as he repeated his words. Tancred nickname.

“Oh! Tancred’s nickname is Tray?”

Kris...that.

“Kris what?” she asked, trying to keep up with rapid-fire pace of the exchange between her and the little creature.

He snorted, clacked out a long sentence that Zoe guessed was a tirade about what a sluggish learner she was, and then slowed down again, enunciated everything perfectly for her.

Kris...

“Kris—” she repeated.

...say...

“—say—”

...that.

“—that,” Zoe finished with satisfaction. “Kris say that.” She paused and then added playfully, “You need to work on your grammar, by the way.”

He hissed loudly, his eyes wide with resentment.

Zoe just laughed and focused back on the topic of conversation. So Tancred’s little sister called him Tray. Must be a nickname from their childhood, she thought. But, that still did not answer why Egan was sleeping in Zoe’s room, rather then staying with Kris or going to Tancred. She mused for a moment, staring at Egan who was licking his scales to polish them up.

“So...Tancred is mad at you?” she guessed.

Egan’s gaze shot back up to her and he hissed something out too quickly for her to catch. She opened her mouth to tell him she had not understood him when he fixed on an annoying glare and slowed down his speech pattern again so that she could pick up his quick, guttural syllables.

Will be.

“Will be...” repeated Zoe quickly. “Um, Tancred will be? Tancred will be mad at you?”

Yes.

“Why will he be mad at you?”

Kris.

“Isn’t Kristalyn here with you?” asked Zoe. “You were with her, right?”

Not here. Go far away.

Zoe leaned back for a moment, her brow furrowed. She was not as up-to-date as Tancred about Kristalyn’s whereabouts and plans, but she was pretty sure Kris was supposed to be on her way home, not going far away again. Cautiously, she inquired, “Where is she going?”

Help friend.

“If she’s going to help a friend, there’s no reason Tancred would be mad at you. You’re just the messenger, not the cause of her departure.”

Egan’s eyes darkened and he sniffed out a quick reply. Zoe could not catch all of his words and, a trifle apologetically, asked him say it again. He growled once, loudly, but acquiesced easily enough immediately afterward.

Always say I lie. About Kris.

After a moment of silence, in which she sorted out what Egan had just said, she replied, “Well, do you? Lie to him, I mean.”

The creature’s gaze narrowed. A sharp, offended snarl came from deep within him.

“I didn’t say that I agreed with him,” she argued, sitting cross-legged on the bed and glaring down at him. “I asked a simple question.”

Doubt me too?

“Should I doubt you?”

The pseudo-dragon’s tongue flicked out and he looked away, his posture rigid. At last he glanced over at her again, his look screaming self-righteous superiority. Zoe was not sure whether she wanted to strangle the creature or laugh at him.

She folded her arms over her chest. “If you’re keeping something back from Tancred, I’ll figure it out eventually, you know. Or he will personally extract the information from you, and I think you’re aware of the fact that it’s really unpleasant facing him when he’s upset.”

Egan clicked a few times, his tones defiant.

“You’re not afraid of him?” she laughed, amused. “Well I hate to tell you this but you probably should be.”

Hunter good. Not kill Egan.

“Where his sister is concerned he’d do much more than just kill,” Zoe warned Egan, only half-jokingly. An odd feeling wended its way through her heart, leaving a trail of wistfulness in its wake. How long had it been since she had an older brother around who would do anything to protect her?

Aiden’s face drifted through her mind’s eye. Zoe twisted around, picked up a pillow and turned back around, hugging it to her chest. She rested her chin on the soft material. Aiden, I know I saw you. She knew beyond a shred of uncertainty that he had been in the battle between Aerilya and Elangsia. It was surreal remembering the scene, and still excruciatingly painful. We were so close, Aiden. There had to have been a way for her to reach him. She should have tried harder to reach him, to get his attention.

What purpose had there been in letting her get so close to reuniting with one of her siblings, and then ripping him away? Deus? Please, I don’t understand. I miss him so badly. Why couldn’t I have my big brother back? It’s been two and half years. I had given up on seeing any of them again, and then You tease me with a glimpse of Aiden. Why, if I cannot have them back, did You torture me with that glimpse?

Egan huffed softly and pulled Zoe back into the present. He was watching her with an unusually attentive look marking his small face.

Anxious?

She sighed a little. “No, I’m not anxious,” she murmured. “But maybe a little wistful.”

He uttered a strange, dragonish laugh and hissed out a sly-sounding sentence.

Zoe’s lashes narrowed. “Excuse me? Do not misconstrue what I’m saying! I was not speaking of Tancred, you little dimwit.”

Not dimwit!

Zoe tossed the pillow away and rolled off the bed, her expression moody. She arched her back as she raised her hands toward the ceiling, stretching her whole body. She glanced over at Egan and continued, “Besides, I fail to see how what I say is any of your business.”

Carry messages. Words important.

“Yes, but you’re not employed to carry messages from me. That being said, you can and will keep what you’ve heard here under strict confidence, got it?”

Egan snickered softly.

She stopped stock still in the middle of the room whirled on him. “What exactly do you find so humorous?” she demanded.

The pseudo-dragon eyed her closely and then took flight, his wings humming as he moved closer and settled down on her shoulders. His tail flicked around her shoulders, the barbed end carefully positioned away from her. Zoe twisted her neck and was met with a pair of glowing eyes.

Like him.

“Like whom?” she replied guardedly, enunciated both words slowly.

Hunter.

Though she and the dragon were alone in the room, Zoe’s heart dropped at the pronouncement. “I do not!” she exclaimed indignantly, her eyes widening.

He yelped triumphantly. You lie too!

“I’m not lying!”

Like him, I know. Egan glowered at her. His scales flushed bright crimson as he jumped off her shoulders to glide down to the floor. Why deny?

“You are by far the most frustrating creature I’ve ever—oh, why do I ever bother,” she growled, propping her hands up on her hips and glaring down at him.

He hissed at her, turned away, and slithered along the floor away from her. He stopped and reared his head back, his eyes flashing with spite as he clacked out an angry answer. Terror fell over Zoe, and her arms dropped to her sides.

“What? You can’t tell Tancred anything! There’s nothing to tell!”

Still lie.

Egan looked ready to take flight out the partially opened door that led to a castle hallway. In desperation Zoe dove for him and seized him around the belly. “Don’t you dare fly off and start telling things you have no business talking about,” she ordered threateningly.

He snapped at her, nipping her fingers. Zoe winced but did not let go. There was no way in all Aerilya she would let the perverse little creature go until she had exacted a promise from him that he would be silent.

Egan sized her up, his ribcage expanding and collapsing rapidly as he heaved out aggravated breaths. A malicious glint entered his eyes, however, as he clacked out a quick question.

Why worry you?

She almost replied “I’m not worried” but the words tasted so false on her tongue she could not utter them. The truth was: she was very worried that Egan would actually go to Tancred and spin some wild tale that was completely and utterly unfounded. She bit her lip as an accusing question whizzed through her brain: Ah, but Zoe, is it really ‘completely and utterly unfounded’ as you so confidently put it? Really?

Her fingers loosened around Egan and he slipped from her grip with a satisfied smirk. She sank to her knees and watched the pseudo-dragon settle down into a comfortable position, watching her the whole time. He clacked a couple times but she blocked him out. Her mind raced, but she feared it was just running in circles, for no coherent answers or thoughts were forthcoming.

Egan chirped out something that sounded like advice, but Zoe continued ignoring him. A sinking feeling settled into the pit of her stomach. The pseudo-dragon’s accusations held an unmistakable ring of truth that alarmed her. Was she really as indifferent to Tancred as she tried convincing herself she was?

She imagined his dusky blue eyes and how they had the ability to flare with amusement or darken with ruthless intensity. She could count on one hand the times she had been in his arms, but her acute awareness of his strength had not faded in the least. Remembering the missions they had participated in—raiding enemy battalions in Mairbrac, spying together in Ruma, fighting Elangsia’s overpowering forces—brought a feeling of warmth and satisfaction to her that was both deep-rooted and very strong.

When she wanted to run away, he stepped in her path. Though she had often fought him every step of the way, she slowly recognized that he had never once let that stop him. He had alternately pushed her out of her comfort zone and forced her to be better than she thought she could be. He had driven her out of her mind and, as a result, into the arms of Deus.

The truth was obvious, and yet it still struck her without warning. Zoe realized that the idea of having fought alongside a man, who not only confronted her deepest fears and uncovered her insecurities, but had also repeatedly gone the extra mile to protect her—was exhilarating.

“Oh, Zoe,” she moaned faintly. Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath; then exhaled slowly. What should she do? What could she do?

“You’re in way over your head,” she finally whispered to herself.

A quiet whirr of leathery wings was all that signaled Egan’s departure. Zoe’s eyes snapped open and she lunged forward “Egan! Wait a second...!”

But all she saw was a glimpse of the pseudo-dragon’s long spiked tail whipping around the doorframe. She was too late. Zoe groaned and smacked herself in the forehead with her palm.

Great.

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Tancred had not expected Egan for at least another week, so when the little creature flew through the open window into his chambers at midmorning, the first emotion he felt was wariness. It was quickly followed by a spurt of hope—could Kris have actually made it here that fast?—which swiftly died and was replaced by cold, iron-like dread. He laid aside his broadsword, which he had been cleaning and inspecting along with his many other weapons, and turning to fully face the pseudo-dragon.

“Egan?” The single word was laden with both expectance and command.

Egan grunted as he landed on the floor at Tancred’s feet. Tancred crouched down, his eyes trained on the creature, but Egan skittered away out of his reach.

Kris sends love!

Tancred hesitated. He remained where he was, simply gazing at Egan. When he spoke, his voice was cool. “Where is she?”

Egan seemed to cringe as he paused, then clacked once, very quietly.

Tancred’s blood seemed to freeze. “She’s what?” he asked in a hard tone.

Gone.

“Gone where? What is she doing? Is she okay?”

Friend. Need help.

“What friend?” exclaimed Tancred, his brow lowering and mood darkening. “How long will she be gone?”

Until friend good.

Tancred rose to his feet in one quick movement and began to pace the room with long strides. His mind whirled. Kris wasn’t coming back to Aerilya yet? It had been months since he’d seen her. Months! What was she thinking? He ran a hand through his hair as he turned to Egan and gritted out a question: “Who’s the friend?”

Egan said nothing.

“Who’s the friend she’s going to help? Tell me, Egan!”

Egan’s scales paled and he hissed but still did not reply. Tancred gazed at the creature unmercifully, aggravated to a point almost beyond bearing. But the longer he stared into Egan’s golden eyes, the more surprised Tancred became; for he could see that the creature’s gaze was marked with a sort of resignation that was unusual for the feisty pseudo-dragon.

Tancred felt helpless, a feeling he did not relish. “What aren’t you telling me, Egan?”

Egan sighed deeply, seeming almost...regretful. Tancred had see Egan angry, conceited, happy, determined, furious...but never regretful.

No tell.

Tancred’s frustration and anger spiked. “If you don’t tell me right now exactly where my sister is, so help me you will wish you had never been hatched. Understand?”

A pitiful whine emitted from the creature. No can say! Kris order.

Tancred’s eyes closed and his jaw set. Restraining himself by some force that was beyond his physical capabilities, he slowly clenched his hands into fists and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. It was the only thing that was keeping him from seizing Egan and attempting to threaten the truth out of him. He loved the little creature and didn’t want to harm him...but he loved his sister more.

Kris, what are you doing? he thought, agonizing. What are you keeping from me? This is getting really old—what don’t you trust me with?

A knock sounded at the door. Tancred opened his eyes and looked over at the closed door for a long, measured moment. Clenching his jaw a couple times, he called in a low voice, “Who is it?”

“’Tis Warrick, lad.”

The familiar voice of Warrick, the war leader he had sent with the twenty-five men to help Kris hold back the Wild Men, served both to fortify and further trouble Tancred. If Warrick were here, that meant that he wasn’t helping Kristalyn anymore. Crossing the room, he flung open the door.

Warrick’s scar, his most prominent facial feature, glowed white in the dim light of the hallway. “Good to see you in one piece,” he said as the two men grasped each other’s forearms, warrior-style.

“Same to you. Come in.” Tancred stepped back and allowed the other man to pass. Closing the door again, he pivoted around and leveled his even gaze on Warrick’s face. Silence fell as the men surveyed each other for several long moments. At last Tancred spoke, his voice deceptively soft.

“Where is my sister, Warrick?”

The older warrior did not flinch. “Unfortunately, I cannot tell you, Hunter.”

Tancred took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. It didn’t help much. “Why not?”

“She told me not to.”

Of all the pigheaded things to... For a moment, he couldn’t even think, he was so upset. “All right. Maybe I’ve been away from my sister too long,” he said at length, pleased that his voice was steady and cool, “but the Kristalyn Ralyn that I know would never make plans to come home and then just change those plans on a whim.”

“A...friend needed her assistance.”

“Yes, that’s exactly the helpful, clear-cut message that Egan gave to me. Warrick, she has friends, that I know, but most of them are the men in our camp.”

“You doubt that your sister has acquaintances outside of the Hunter’s camp? She has been on many spying missions, as many or more than you.”

“And she doesn’t attach herself to friends that easily,” Tancred replied, exasperated. “Remember Mertala? Ever since that, Kris has kept her emotions under lock and key.”

Mertala was an Aerilyan girl who had once been a good friend of Kristalyn’s. She had been taken as a slave years earlier. Kris had been completely distraught and Tancred had made finding and rescuing Mertala his number one priority for quite some time. But by the time he found the girl, she was a shell of the person she had once been. Something deep within Tancred still burned with anger and sorrow when he remembered the vacant look in Mertala’s eyes; the bruises that covered her skeletal frame; the way she recoiled at Tancred’s touch. She had never recovered from her enslavement. The entire situation had deeply impacted Kris as well.

Warrick remembered. He shifted on his feet, looking troubled, but still he said nothing.

“Nothing about this adds up,” Tancred continued after a lengthy silence. “Everything about this is out-of-character for Kris. Is she in trouble?”

“I don’t believe so,” Warrick replied quietly.

“You don’t ‘believe’ so? Meaning she could be in trouble?”

“Trouble lurks everywhere, Tancred, especially in a country that has just ended a decade and a half long war.”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“Lad, don’t you think that if I could tell you the truth, I would?” Warrick raised his head, his gruff exterior cracking unexpectedly. Tancred could pick out the man’s conflicted emotions with stark clarity, something that was very unusual with Warrick. “But I gave Lady Kristalyn my word and I must stand by it.”

Despair smote Tancred. “Why won’t she trust me, Warrick?”

Warrick’s countenance softened a little. “It’s not that she doesn’t trust you, lad. She merely wants to tell you some things herself; when she next sees you.”

“At this rate we’ll never see each other.” Tancred sighed and crossed his arms over his chest again, as if his arms could provide a sort of buffer for the dire news being thrown at him. He strove for calm, but the turmoil within him would not abate. “It’s been well over a year.”

“If it helps to know, she misses you as much as you miss her.”

Egan clicked a couple times, speaking for the first time since Warrick came into the room. Remember. She love you.

Yes, she loved him. She missed him. Then what in Deus’ name could have induced her to not come home? Over the last few months Tancred had worried about Kris, but he had been able to push his worry into the back of his mind because of his many distractions: the war, spying in Ruma, Zoe, planning a battle. Now the pressures on him were much lessened, yet still Kris was not safely home. His job was not complete. It never would be until his whole family—all that remained of it—was safe and accounted for.

He turned, strode to the table that held his weapons, and calmly slipped on his wrist dagger’s sheath. “I have to go after her.”

Warrick cocked his head, considering that for a moment. A kindly light came to his eye as he replied, “Nay, lad. You can’t do that.”

Tancred did not stay his hand for a moment. He flicked the long leather baldric over his shoulder and began to fasten its straps, the weight of his heavy broadsword resting familiarly on his back. “And why not? She is my sister. No matter how capable she is, I am responsible to protect her and I would fight to the death if anyone tried to stand in my way.”

“I don’t doubt your devotion to Lady Kristalyn,” amended Warrick in the same quiet voice. “But you cannot go, Tancred. Trust me when I tell you that she made a definite choice. Her fate rests with Deus now. You must not interfere.”

“But how can you expect me to stay here, not knowing what has happened to her? I am not so dishonorable!”

“It is not dishonorable to give your sister into Deus’ hands. It is what she would want. And you won’t need to remain oblivious to her actions. Send Egan after her again. She may or may not send him back to you, but at least she would have a mode of communication if she needed help.”

The man’s reasoning was sound, and yet Tancred still balked. Slowly, he finished shoving a long dagger into its special sheath in his boot. He remained crouched down, avoiding Warrick’s gaze.

Of all the things Deus had asked of him, this was the hardest. Part of him wanted to give in, to let Deus take over and trust Him to guard Kristalyn’s life. The other part rebelled and wanted to shove away Warrick and Deus’ urgings; that part goaded him to finish strapping on his weapons and track his sister until he found her and made sure she was safe.

One was the way of cold, hard reasoning. The other was a way of faith.

One was a course of action inbred to his nature. The other was a sacrifice, something he could scarcely stand to submit to.

Deus, I need your strength! How can you expect me to sit back and let my sister go like this?

Nothing profound happened, but Tancred did feel the barest glimmer of hope wash over his soul. It was not much, but it was enough.

“Very well,” he murmured. He stood up and slowly began unfastening the baldric’s straps. “I’ll send Egan to her. And I’ll pray for her unceasingly.”

“There is nothing better you could do for you, lad,” said Warrick, his voice gruff but tinged with pride.

Tancred laid his sword down and turned to Egan. “She’s going to have a lot of explaining to do when I next see her,” he muttered, glaring down at the pseudo-dragon.

“Aye,” Warrick chuckled silently. A gleam of humor appeared in his eye and did not quickly vanish. “Aye, I’m afraid you both do, lad.”