Chapter 18

“Please, let me leave.”

The first voice to break the terrible silence was Auban’s. Morgan wanted to shout at him, to tell him to be silent and safe, but there was no such thing as safe now. Not anymore. If this was the only chance he could get to speak, then he would take it. Of course he would. Auban was brave too, brave like Garen. Morgan turned his head to stare at his mate, wishing he could go to him but unable to tear himself away from his best friend, shuddering beneath him. Auban saw him watching and looked at him calmly as if to say, It’s all right.

It wasn’t, but there was nothing Morgan could do about that now.

“I never intended to stay, I swear it,” Auban went on. “Truly, I remember nothing from before waking up on this beach.” He gestured to the scars that covered his body. “I’m as surprised as any of you that I survived. It’s only because of Morgan’s kind heart that I didn’t die like everyone else.”

“You should have!” Drenikel shouted, but he was immediately shushed by someone else.

“I know I don’t belong here, and I know I can’t stay. All I ask is that you let me leave now, with my oath that if I live to be rescued, I will never tell a soul about the Agnarra or your island.”

“Why should we believe you?” This was one of the elders, pushing forward. He was also heavily scarred, and the look he gave Auban was serious but not furious. “Why should we trust you with our very lives, when your people have proven yourselves incapable of honor?”

“I know you have suffered at the hands of humans,” Auban said somberly. “I know that—”

“You know nothing!” another elder snapped. “I lost all three of my children and two of my grandchildren to your last attack! What do you know of the pain I carry in my heart? What do you know of the weight I hold in my soul?”

“I admit that I don’t know the intimacy of your pain,” Auban replied. “But I know how fiercely you love each other. You’re a strong, and strongly connected, people. I know that you love your children, and that the last thing you want is for any of them to suffer. Please.” He spread his hands. “Don’t take my existence here out on Morgan or Garen. They were only being kind, and I know it’s a kindness I neither earned nor deserve. But if you love them, I beg of you. Don’t hurt them.”

Drenikel sniffed. “You presume a great deal to think that killing you would hurt them.”

“Morgan says he loves the brute,” one of the women said sourly.

“Then killing him would be an object lesson for Morgan, one he would get over in due time!”

“No!” Morgan finally found his voice again. He pressed a kiss to the back of Garen’s head, then pressed to his feet. Ignoring his brother’s gaze, Morgan walked over to Auban on unsteady legs, finally taking his hand. “I love him,” he said, turning defiantly to stare at his people. He still couldn’t meet Brevaer’s eyes, but he made sure to meet Drenikel’s. “Perhaps it shouldn’t have happened, but it did. My heart is given, and I wouldn’t undo it for anything. If you kill Auban, you’re going to have to kill me too.” And I will fight you with everything I have in me.

“No one is killing anyone.” That was Brevaer, finally. His voice was still low and dark but steady now. “This is why you worked on the boat, isn’t it? You wanted him to have a means of getting away from the island.”

“Yes,” Morgan said quietly.

“It isn’t really lost, is it?”

“No. It’s tied up over there.” He pointed to the ledge where Auban had been living for months now.

“You always intended for him to leave.”

Morgan recognized what his brother was doing for him. He hated it, but he recognized it, and he knew he needed to take advantage of it for Auban’s sake. Even if the rift between him and Brevaer never mended, at least he could count on his brother’s protection in this. “Yes.”

“That’s no excuse!” Drenikel insisted. “That the human was brought here in the first place is—”

“He washed ashore,” Garen croaked, finally finding his own voice. “He came here on his own, and Morgan tended to him after that.” He stood up and shook the tension from his limbs. “We tend to visitors. That’s one of our oldest laws of hospitality.”

“It doesn’t apply to humans!” someone else called out. “They’re murderers!”

“He might be a man, but he’s harmless,” Garen replied scornfully. “Or do you think that he could defend himself against even the smallest of us right now? Look at him! He’s about to fall over in this wind.”

Morgan knew Garen was playing up Auban’s weakness as a tactic, but it was still disconcerting to see people nodding in agreement. Auban had gone incredibly pale, his scars standing out lividly on his skin, and he was trembling. Morgan wrapped one of Auban’s arms over his shoulders before the other man could protest. “Let me,” he whispered. “Please.” Any complaint his mate might have made subsided.

The elder who had stepped up to speak directly to Auban—one of those who had given Morgan no end of “advice” when it came to making the boat—finally nodded, then looked at Brevaer. “It would do no good to take this to the chief,” he said plainly. “He is unreasonable on the topic of humans. The best thing we can do now is make sure this man leaves as swiftly as possible.”

Morgan’s heart lightened even as Drenikel roared in indignation. “Now you don’t want to involve the chief? How dare you! I’ll make sure he hears of this!” He and his cronies took off at a run back toward the village.

“Well, that’s that,” the old man said with a sigh. “You need to get him gone before they get back, or we’ll all be in a mess.”

“I can try to stall him,” Garen said. He turned to Morgan and Auban, his face filled with remorse. “I’m sorry it ended like this. I … you were good company.”

“You were a good friend,” Auban said softly. “Be well, Garen.” Garen nodded, then began to lope southward along the path that Morgan had walked at least once a day ever since Auban came to them.

“Here.” The elder undid the satchel around his shoulder and tossed it over to land at Morgan’s feet. “It’s got fresh water and a few meals in it and a decent set of hooks. Enough to keep a man alive if he knows how to fish.”

Auban inclined his head. “Thank you.”

“Here.” Another satchel came flying at them. “Yam cakes and an extra cloak.”

Then another. “Fish jerky.”

And another. “My second-best line and a fire starter.” That was a generous gift indeed. A few more donations made a not-inconsiderable pile, and then people began to disperse.

That was it. It was time for Auban to leave. Right now. Right … right now.

Oh no.Morgan’s heart wasn’t ready, but there was nothing for it. If the chief found Auban, he would certainly kill him—the madness that lived in him didn’t allow for any other outcome. And if Morgan tried to stop him, he would be killed as well.

“Brother.”

How had Brevaer gotten so close? Morgan must have been lost in his own mind. “We’re leaving,” he said flatly, not wanting to talk about it.

“Both of you?” The pain in Brevaer’s voice made Morgan pause.

“I’m only going to take him as far as the Spit.” The Spit was the nearest island to them, with nothing to make it into a home, but at least it would serve as a decent midpoint for Auban, a place where he could catch some more food and ready his supplies before putting to sea.

“Ah.” The silence between them filled with unsaid words that nonetheless echoed in Morgan’s ears. Auban was the one to finally break it.

“I’ll make sure he comes back soon,” he said, and Morgan shut his eyelids against the flood of tears that suddenly pressed against them.

“Very well. I …” Brevaer sounded conflicted. “I wish this hadn’t happened,” he said at last. “I wish you were someone who Morgan could bring home proudly. I’ve never seen him as … as engaged, as lively, as he’s been these past few months. It’s clear that you … you’ve been good for him.”

“So have you,” Auban said kindly. “He’s spoken to me about you a great deal. He’s fortunate to have such a loving brother.”

Brevaer laughed caustically. “I nearly killed him a few minutes ago.”

“You never would have.”

“You need to apologize to Garen.” Morgan found his voice in time to glare fiercely at his brother.

Brevaer looked shaken. “I know.”

“You need to make it good. He loves you, Brev.”

“I …” His brother swallowed hard. “I thought he might, but … surely I’ve ruined that now.”

“Not as long as you tell him you’re sorry, and you mean it. You have to be good to him. You have to.” One of us needs to be happy. And Morgan was sure that it wasn’t going to be him at this point.

“I will,” Brevaer promised him. “I’ll apologize. Sincerely.”

“And tell him how you feel.”

“I …” Brevaer finally nodded. “Fine. I will, but you have to make sure I do it right. You have to come back soon, Morgan, and you need to make sure I do it the right way.”

Morgan nodded, his throat stopped up once more. He might have taken the time to clear it if he hadn’t heard a sudden, distant roar of rage.

“That’s Sariel,” Brevaer muttered. “You two need to leave, now.” Brevaer bent down and gathered all the satchels into his arms. “Where’s the boat?”

Auban, with Morgan’s help, led the way to where the boat was moored. Brevaer didn’t waste any time, filling it with the goods and then reaching out and grabbing Auban by the arm. He didn’t even flinch as he handed the human down into the boat. “Morgan, you need to—” But Morgan was already jumping into the water, letting the change come upon him. He floated to the surface, green hair a riotous seamark against the water, and took hold of the slender rope attached to the front of the simple craft.

It was getting late, and the water was choppy, but there was nothing for it. He pulled, leading Auban out into open water. The boat glided with surprising smoothness, and Auban did his best to help steady them with the slender paddle.

“Be safe!” Brevaer called out after them as they sped away from the island.

Morgan thought Auban answered, but he couldn’t quite hear how as he ducked his head under the water to pull. He didn’t want to hear any more goodbyes, not when he still had his own to live through.

I don’t know how to let you go! How do I let you go?

How do I live without you?