Page 68 of The Flame and the Forsaken

The indignation came first, which Samuel had expected, but what he was not anticipating was how fast it collapsed into sorrow. Erran wore the dismal pall of a man who had just been told he had a month to live. “I don’t ken what you want to hear, Sam.”

“You know I prefer the truth, whatever the consequence. But it is yours to give, or not.”

Erran snorted with a chuckle aimed at the sky. “Oy, you wouldn’t understand.”

“How can you know?”

His friend laced and unlaced his hands, sighing inwardly. He glanced in the cabin’s direction, but the others were still inside. “Even I don’t understand it, mate.”

Samuel was grateful Hamish was with the others. For all his good intentions, his roughness would have shut Erran right down. “Try me.”

“Only thing I know, Sam...” Erran raised his head and smiled wistfully. Laughed. “Is that these have been the mostbizarrebut alsowonderfulweeks of my life, and if I could... If I could... aye, I ken I’d live in this bliss forever. I really would.”

The undeniable curiosity was almost more than Samuel could bear, but he had enough pieces to get a nominal understanding of the tableau of Erran and Mariel’s island adventures. The wreck had pushed them into working together. Time had pushed them to make a home. And somewhere in the midst of it all, they’d come to understand each other. Develop affection for one another. “I can see the bond between you. It’s palpable.” He quickly clarified. “I’m not speaking of the sex, of course, you understand. I meant... after. What we observed after.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, mate,” Erran quipped, humorless. “Aye, we bonded, but we bondedhere,Sam.Here.Here, where we could be anyone—anything we wanted. Where none of the rest...” He shook his head, forming a tight line with his lips. His throat bobbed in a hard swallow. “But out there?” He glanced away when his voice choked.

Samuel decided it was as good of a time as any to tell him he was already apprised of the pieces Erran seemed unable to speak. “You should know, Erran, that Hamish and I are aware of Mariel’s exploits.”

Erran ripped his gaze to Samuel in a flash of panic.

“And will tellno one,” he said quickly, before the veins in Erran’s temples exploded. “We have already discussed it at length. No one has to know. Ever.”

“Sam—”

“We’ll swear a blood oath if it eases your mind.”

Erran stared, dazed, at the fire. “Does Khallum know?”

“No. And he doesn’t have to know.”

“My... father?”

“I couldn’t say, but I’d wager he’s not familiar with her second life currently, or his search-and-rescue efforts would include bounty hunters.”

“You mean assassins. He’s been known to hire Riverhelm Revenants in the past.”

Samuel wanted to reassure him that Steward Rutland would never murder his own daughter-in-law, no matter what she’d done, but he realized the statement wasn’t entirely true. He couldn’t knowwhatErran’s father would do, because the situation was unprecedented. Obsidian Sky had plagued the Rutlands and their baronages for a decade. Their crimes would not be hand-waved away. And it was reasonable to hypothesize that finding out they’d been hoodwinked by a woman would not sit well with the men either. “When Hamish and I told your father we planned to conduct our own search, I saw no evidence of this. He expressed nothing but concern for Mariel’s safety.”

“You told him about theMistwitch?”

“No. We said nothing of where we were going, only that we would be gone for days, weeks if necessary. Our fathers received the same story. We were met with only slight discouragement, mostly reminders that they had authorities working day and night on the matter, but I suspect they found our offer commendable and decided not to hold us back. They don’t know where we went. We will leave it to you to explain however you deem appropriate.” Samuel smiled. “Just please let us know before we make port in Whitecliffe, so Hamish’s, Destin’s, and my stories can match.”

Erran only nodded.

Samuel was oft considered the logical one of their group, good for practical advice but not as salient with matters of the heart. But it was with logic he formed the words he hoped would bring Erran comfort just the same. “You say you bonded here. That there’s—and I’m taking liberties here—perhaps a certain magic about being stranded together and relying on one another, separate of the world proper, and it has allowed this relationship to blossom when it would not otherwise have come so far. But, Erran, there is nothing I see here but choice. You chose each other. Here. Out there. A choice is a choice. Only you and she can decide whether what you’ve built can sustain the return home, but please do not forget the power rests entirely between you, and nowhere else.”

The others joined them. Mariel had a sling, with a few things inside, and a spear in her hand. Her expression matched Erran’s: adrift and dazed. They both looked at each other, though not at the same time, and something about that made Samuel a little sad, like they’d missed an important moment.

“I ken we shouldnae waste what light is left,” Hamish said.

TheBella Yannawas a much larger ship than theMistwitch, far more capable of navigating the capricious Eastern Shelf. When Mariel told Destin about her own catastrophic voyage, he was stunned at how different their experiences had been.

They were below deck, in the galley. The others were on the upper deck, probably doing exactly what he and Mariel were doing, comparing stories.

He listened to Mariel tell many incredible tales about the wreck and surviving the island, but she tiptoed carefully around anything about Erran. Her eyes would light up as she’d talk about something they did, some problem they overcame together, but would then transition to a more practical recounting.

Destin realized she was doing this because she was afraid of his disapproval.

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