Page 62 of Bound and Tide

“Just a moment longer—ah, there he is.” Xander pointed, and the griffin swooped down into the only open spot in the turned Kvesari Wood.

“I thought he couldn’t come here?” Red grabbed Maia and practically threw her up onto the beast’s back.

“I called to him while on my way topside.” Xander tossed an imp to Costa and scooped the other two up into his arms. “Seems I broke the curse or whatever the prophecy expected I do.” He gave the elf a pointed look.

“Yes, well, thank the gods,” she quipped, and with only a little grumble from the griffin about the weight, they took off.

Evangeline held tight to Xander’s middle as she peered down at the blighted copse of the Kvesari Wood. The trees were vibrating as they devoured what was left of the village, but even in her half-elf state, she could feel the joy radiating up from the undead forest. Whatever evil had been there was soon to be gone.

But Xander—Xander was there in her arms, and she gave him a squeeze, breathing in his smell: sweat and blood and the faintest hint of the highest-quality cinnamon she could ever hope to get her hands on.

Villagers were lined up on the shore of Thistlemire, staring wide-eyed at the clearing mist when they touched back down on the safer side of Crystal Basin. Some glanced at the griffin and the five dismounting, and perhaps a few noticed the water imps, but no one had a mistrustful thing to say.

“Think we could get a meal?” Xander asked the innkeep, who had come outside to watch the lake with the others.

It took a few more requests, most of them polite, but eventually they were seated inside The Drowsy Dolphin, and Xander was indeed regaling them all. He was almost too full of pomp, but she saw each time his hand slid into his coat to grip the bit of metal hanging from his neck and give the gift from Costa a reassuring squeeze like he was afraid he might have lost it. There—there was the truth in him, the one he squirreled away. Evangeline was sure he embellished most of the tale, especially the part where he battled an entire horde of demons down below the temple, but frankly she loved him all the more for every fictitious exaggeration.

Because she did love him—the fact had solidified itself in her heart as she watched him walk away in that temple and feared he would never come back. She silently held onto that sentiment, the opportunity to tell him never arising, but each time their eyes met, she feared she gave herself away, only able to smile at him like he was the first glimpse of sunshine after an excruciating winter.

The elven guardian had a never-ending amount of follow-up questions, and Xander’s chattiness didn’t help to shorten the endeavor. As he prattled on and she recorded absolutely everything, Evangeline made sure Costa and Maia’s wounds were tended to. They were probably too old for tucking in, but she fussed over them anyway as they climbed into their beds, the imps curling up at their feet.

When Evangeline finally slipped out of their room, Xander was casually leaning against the wall in the inn’s hallway. He was still a literal bloody mess, but he was grinning like he’d won some prize. “Come to bed with me?” he asked in a low tone.

“Not when you look like that,” she said, and dragged him off to the inn’s bathing chamber where she scrubbed every inch of him, and he didn’t complain once.

But when they fell into their own bed, Xander only wrapped all his limbs about her and nestled his head into her neck. His next breath was heavy, and there was no hardness pressing against her hip, so she ran fingers through his hair and squeezed him back. “I’m very proud of you, you know,” she whispered into the top of his head.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly accept any more of your praise,” he mumbled into her neck. “Please don’t hoist endless adoration on me.”

She chuckled. “Well, it’s true. From the sound of things, you were very brave.”

Xander made a small noise and then was quiet for a moment. “I really wasn’t,” he finally said, lifting his head. For the first time since he’d emerged from below the temple, he looked exhausted, heavy circles under his eyes and a pallidness to his normally warm skin.

“Oh, koul’tah, I know that you were,” she said, rubbing his cheek.

“I was terrified,” he admitted, bleakness stretching over his features. “I don’t know how I didn’t fail. I almost gave in, almost summoned her, almost ruined everything.”

“But you didn’t,” she said, guiding his head back down and wrapping arms around him, and soon they were both asleep.

The trip back to Bendcrest was decidedly more pleasant than the one leaving, but much of that could be chalked up to the lack of ominousness hanging over their heads like an asymmetrically winged dragon. Even sleeping in a cave all huddled together was exceptionally pleasant when Evangeline knew they were headed home. Xander was still particular and snippy, but he asked after everyone’s wounds, even those of the imps, and ensured the comfort of them all.

When they were only a day out of Bendcrest and finally had a room at an inn to themselves, Evangeline could no longer hold herself back, but had not accounted for what Xander was suddenly capable of. He made her come undone too many times to count, his stamina almost too much to keep up with, but she was in the mood to demand all that he was willing to give.

“I appreciate your patience with me over the last moon,” he grunted once while thrusting into her from behind and making her go absolutely stupid with pleasure. “I did not mean to deprive you.”

“Promise me,” she huffed into the linens, “you won’t hold back again.”

“You’ve got my word,” he growled, and his next plunge inside her lit up her core and drove her to Empyrea.

When they reached Bendcrest in the late evening, the length of the apothecary’s road was covered in a blanket of snow, and the city was still and quiet. With the sun setting early, villagers had holed themselves up indoors, the night growing especially frigid if clear. Evangeline expected the shop to be cold, but with a little work, and perhaps some of Xander’s magic, the hearth would soon warm the entire building. She was just counting excess linens in her head for the children and the imps when she spied her door and her heart sank.

She felt the wrongness before really seeing it, not needing her key to push her way into the silent front chamber. Moonlight shone in and illuminated completely empty shelves. Words wouldn’t come even though a hundred curses filled her head. It shouldn’t have been possible, a break-in, not with the el’erium, but unless her potions and herbs were playing a not-so-funny trick on her, she’d been cleaned out. But who would do—

Evangeline tore across the chamber and behind the counter where her ledgers were meant to be, but those were gone too. Yet the box with her coins was still there, full to its brim, which told her immediately who was to blame. “You fucking bastard!”

“I did not do this,” Xander protested.

“Oh, not you,” she groaned, dropping elbows onto the counter and raking fingers through her curls where they of course caught on knots. “This is Horace’s doing. He’s going to take my shop!”

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