Page 58 of Somewhere down the Ley Line
They spoke for a while, but she couldn’t hear what they said. Felix gestured wildly with his hands at some point and poked Leif in the chest, to which the younger man responded by ducking his head and glancing in her direction. Finally, Felix clapped Leif on the shoulder and headed back down the hill. He smiled when he saw her watching him, in that warm, soft way he rarely did. Her heart skipped a beat.
“What were you and Leif talking about?” she asked when he came to a halt at her side and rummaged through his pack.
“Not much. Threatened him a bit.”
“What?”
He glanced sideways at her with a grin that made her insides flutter. “You heard me. Sometimes people need a kick in the ass to think straight again.”
“I didn’t see you kick him,” she said with a slight frown. From the corner of her eye, Leif picked his way down the hill.
Felix laughed. “Not yet.”
When Leif got closer, Isolde watched as he took a deep breath and approached her. Felix straightened, a grin plastered on his face. “Go easy on him,” he said quietly. “He’s trying.” Then he walked off without another word.
“Hey,” Leif said, standing a few steps away from her. He crossed his arms, his eyes not quite meeting hers.
“Hello,” she replied, tilting her head.
“I, um…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”
She blinked at him, surprised. “For what?”
“For avoiding you. For being… weird. After everything.”
“Oh, Leif.” Her expression softened. “It’s fine. I understand.”
“It’s not fine. You saved us. That’s the second time you’ve savedme.I should have thanked you, not… what I did.”
Isolde smiled and then, impulsively, rose and threw her arms around him. He stood for a heartbeat, shocked, and then awkwardly hugged her back. She was so relieved she could have cried.
“You still kind of terrify me,” Leif mumbled when she released him.
She laughed. “I’m sorry. I terrify myself, too, if that helps.”
He grinned. “A little.”
“Let’s move on,” Garren called from near the horses, already mounting his own.
“So… we’re good?” Leif asked Isolde sheepishly.
She smiled and gave his arm a squeeze. “Yes. We’re good.”
***
The following morning they resumed their journey after a brief pause at a surprise apple tree, which had been full of small, sour fruits they gratefully added to their dwindling provisions. Isolde dug into her satchel for her notebook, flipping back and forth between pages and frowning.
“Did you write some scandalous poetry in your sleep?” Felix asked, a hint of teasing in his voice.
She smiled. “No. I’m just… trying to figure something out.”
“About what?”
“Magic.”
“Shocking.”
The corners of her mouth turned up. “You asked.”
