17. Ayden

Chapter seventeen

Ayden

T hree days.

The trek from the ancient path back to the Rangers' headquarters in Grove's Pass should have only taken two, but everywhere I turned, Kingdom scouts crept and searched.

During the days, I moved slowly, inching my way back home. Autumn had loosened most of the trees' leaves, making the forest floor a dangerous field on which to walk. Aside from the obvious camouflaging of roots, holes, and other obstacles intent on tripping a passerby, each step brought with it the heart-stopping possibility of a crunch that would echo off the mountainside, alerting any nearby visitors to my presence. Fortunately, the forest's alarm system worked in both directions, saving me multiple times as careless scouts blundered by .

Each night, I hid myself in crevices or beneath fallen logs and what foliage I could find. I lay awake, listening for threats, but wishing for peaceful rest that would not come. When my mind wandered from thoughts of Kingdom scouts and barbed arrows, my heart swelled as images of Declan rushed to the fore. Brilliant green eyes and a bright smile filled my chest with warmth. I saw the dimple of his chin and the knot in his throat where Adam had left his apple.

When I closed my eyes, I felt his fingers trailing down my cheek, his hands gripping my arms, his body pressing against mine with hunger and need. I could taste his tongue and lips as my own devoured every part of him I could reach.

Spirits, we had been parted for only hours, and there I lay, missing him as though it had been months or years.

What was this longing, this yearning? Why did this man infect my memory and consume my thoughts so? It felt as though I was no longer in command of my own body or mind . . . or heart.

I had known lust many times. Spirits know, I sated that lust, too.

The men of Saltstone were rarely shy, especially when the son of a wealthy noble was on offer. And yet, whatever this was between us was something altogether different.

For two men born without a Gift, powerful magic flowed between us .

In those sleepless nights, when the forest stilled, I ached to know he was safe.

This mission—this damnable secret mission—why had it taken him from me?

Atikus swore it was vital, that all our freedoms, perhaps our lives, rested on its success. Still, it was impossible to keep bitterness at bay when this noble cause was also what now kept us apart.

I knew better than to be angry. Duty was everything to those in uniform. Still, Rangers were men first. We bled and ached the same as any man. I would play my role and die for my people, but worry and doubt still threaded my thoughts as I wondered how Declan fared.

"Byrne?"

Captain Whitman's baritone snapped me back to the present. He sat ramrod straight in a simple wooden chair behind his desk. His eyes were bright, peering into me, as if reading my very soul. I stood before him at parade rest, hands clasped behind my back.

"Hundreds, sir."

"Hundreds?" Whitman leaned forward and planted elbows on his desk. "That seems incredible, Byrne. Are you certain you didn't count the same scouts multiple times? We don't have hundreds of scouts in our entire army."

"Sir, I wish that were true. I made careful note of those I could see, marking unique features on their faces or cloaks." I removed a battered sheet of parchment from my cloak and held it across the desk. "I made notes."

Whitman raised a brow and took the paper. "A Ranger who can read and write. There's a notion."

"Sir?"

He waved a hand in the air as he scanned my scribble, dismissing my query.

There'd been no easy place to write, especially while hidden from passing men, so my marks were close to illegible, even to me.

The Captain tossed my notes onto his desk and leaned back. His eyes, keen and bright a moment earlier, now held a weariness I had never seen in our leader. I could have seen a thousand scouts in those woods, and they would not have frightened me nearly as much as the way Whitman's words faltered.

"Are you rested?" he asked.

"Sir?"

"Have you rested following your return?" His brow bunched with annoyance at asking twice.

"Oh, no, sir. I came straight to you."

He was silent a moment, then stood suddenly. "Go eat something and rest for a couple of hours, but before you do, stop by the quartermaster and have him restock your provisions. As soon as you're ready, report back to me. I'll have a detailed map of the range for you. I need to know exactly where those scouts are. "

My mind raced. I'd just returned and was hoping for a hot meal and a night's sleep. Besides, the range was . . .

"I know," Whitman said, raising a palm to stave off my unspoken protest. "The range is too large for one man. By the time you return, I'll have teams assembled and zones laid out. One of my senior officers will take charge of the operation, but you will be his right hand. Too few of our men know how to write. You'll need to figure out a system for marking the maps that is simple enough for them to execute. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." I nodded.

"Good." He stared into the far corner of his office as if I were no longer sitting before him. I hadn't been dismissed, so I didn't move; but the wait felt like an eternity. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and thoughtful. "What of Mage Atikus and the others? Why is Rea not with you?"

I blinked a few times, gathering my thoughts. He'd grilled me over the scouts I'd seen for so long that I'd forgotten to tell him about the team and Declan. My heart clenched at the memory of a lone Ranger climbing stones and disappearing into the woods.

"Uh, sir, sorry. I should have included that in my report. Mage Atikus went with Guardsmen Rea and Wesser in pursuit of the kidnapped Healer. They should be well inside Kingdom territory by now."

"And Ranger Rea? "

"Dec—I mean Ranger Rea was given another assignment and separated from the group."

"As assignment? I'm not aware of Rea receiving new orders. Explain." The pendulum of his voice had swung from contemplative and quiet to a commander of men, and I knew each word I offered would be weighed and judged, even more so than when I spoke of Kingdom scouts.

"Mage Atikus told the rest of us that the Arch Mage had tasked him with a mission. He would not speak of the mission's objective or offer any details, only to say that, with his injury, he could no longer perform it. He asked Declan—excuse me, sir, Ranger Rea—to take his place and execute that mission."

Whitman's face hardened as his eyes bore holes through my chest.

"He gave no hint of what this mission regarded? Where Rea was going?"

"No, sir." I shook my head.

"Fine. I'll take that up with the Arch Mage. Go get some rest and report back here at fourteen hundred hours."

"Yes, sir." I turned and left the Captain alone with his thoughts.