The Adani Chronicles: Birthright

In spite of everything that had changed in Thaliondris, Brandt noticed that he, his brother, and their guide fell easily back into the habits they had established on the road before reaching the wood elves. Chore assignments did not change; Ryn still foraged and scouted, Evin still hunted and cooked, and Brandt still washed and mended. They still sparred before dinner and told stories after while Kota gnawed at the remains of their meal. Night watches remained, and though both of them thought he didn’t notice, Ryn and Evin watched the sun rise together every morning.

That last bit was new, a practice Brandt thought must have been established in the city. Evin had always been the most chipper of them in the mornings, it was true, but he did not fall asleep easily, so he tended to guard his sleeping hours fiercely. Usually he took the first watch, preferring to go to bed a little later but sleep through the night. Apparently, Brandt reflected, he had found something in his and Ryn’s early morning discussions that was worth losing an hour of sleep over.

Watching them sit together before the lightening sky, huddled warm in his bedroll and barely awake, Brandt thought he knew what it was.

His brother’s unrelenting charm and happy-go-lucky attitude aside, Evin had surprisingly few true companions. Most everyone knew him for his wit, and his talent for tracking, his unbeatable speed borne of that lithe form so unusual among their people, or his propensity to say too much too loudly. Evin was certainly more suited to fighting than diplomacy, and it was no secret to anyone.

But, Brandt reflected, very few people actually knew Evin for his generous heart, or his unique insights, or the way he seemed to remember everything. Evin was not famous for the way his eyebrows knitted momentarily when he was trying to hide an amused reaction, or how he sniffed when he lied, or the faith he had in the Old Tales. Very few really knew his brother, and those who did had been a part of his life for nearly as many years as he’d been living it.

Ryn seemed to be the exception to that. Why, Brandt barely knew, but she responded to Evin in a way that made him think she had known him for years, when she’d known him for weeks. And Evin had been good for her too; she was far more relaxed and open now than she’d been even at the river crossing, and in spite of the whole upheaval discovering her Y’rai heritage must have caused, she seemed to be handling the new abilities—and responsibilities—fairly well.

Evin said something just then that made Ryn snort, the sound loud enough and rude enough to jolt Brandt from his comfortable, in-between space and wake him fully. He sat up with a sigh, garnering their attention. Ryn had the grace to look slightly ashamed, and Evin pulled away from her slightly. Brandt wanted to laugh; did they think he was blind? Instead, he scowled.

“Sun’s up. Let’s move.”

Ryn shivered slightly in the mountain air; the evenings and mornings had become colder since they’d left Thaliondris almost a week prior, picking their way carefully through the secret mountain pass Lord Áed had spoken of. It was the only passable way through the Dragonback Mountains east of the great elven city, marked by a series of carved runes that glowed at the presence of the amulet the Wood Elf had given Brandt. The way was not easy, but it was manageable, and each day they gained a bit more elevation as the leagues passed slowly beneath their feet.

But it was growing colder the higher they went, which was why she was out here right now, in the orange-pink light of the sunset, stark naked. Submerged bathing would soon become dangerous—a wet body meant a cool body—so after this there would be little chance to wash thoroughly until they reached the plains again. She intended to take full advantage.

She had taken Kota and ordered him to stand guard at the path, then sequestered herself in a smallish pool formed by several boulders in the shallow mountain stream. A willow lent its branches to the little pond, making it just about as private as was humanly possible out here.

It was almost pleasant.

Ryn hurried into the water; it was bracing, but the rocks retained some heat from the day’s sun, so it was not unbearable. She washed quickly, taking special care to scrub the dirtier areas of her body—under her nails and arms and the bottoms of her feet—and washed her hair twice, relishing the scent of the lapis flower oil she’d bought in Thaliondris. The oil smelled wonderful, a little sharp and spicy with a hint of floral sweetness, but not so sweet as to attract unwanted insects during her travels. It was one of the few things she splurged on as often as she could manage.

She hummed a little to herself as she scrubbed the oil from her hair, fingers still unused to the shorter length. Despite the rigors of traveling, she found herself glad to be on the road again, just her and Kota and the two men she’d come to regard as friends. Lately Ryn had found the brother-princes to be much more relaxed; and now that he wasn’t preoccupied with hiding his identity, Evin’s evening tales had grown richer with detail. Brandt seemed less tense since they’d left Râza far behind, though Ryn herself couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the Eloni city in the aftermath of their trickery. Had the sorcerer attacked the city outright? Disappeared entirely now that his quarry had moved on? Or was he still there, terrorizing travelers entering the Eloni’s domain and slowly suffocating their trade routes?

She wondered, too, about that spy to whom Lord Áed had fed incorrect information, in order to lead Râza off in the wrong direction at the wrong time. She couldn’t imagine things had turned out well for him.

Râza must have been so angry.

The spy was probably dead.

Honestly, she hoped never to find out. The fate of the spy had been a bitter point of contention in their party; Brandt had been merciless in his focus on his brother’s safety and the completion of the quest, but Evin had argued passionately for Lord Áed to spare the man’s life somehow. Eventually, the Lord of the Eloni had agreed to send two of his best to scout the Val’gren party after their decoy was dispatched, to see if it were possible to save the spy. Evin had grudgingly acknowledged that was the best anyone could do and thanked Lord Áed sincerely.

While Ryn herself quietly shared Brandt’s opinion—the spy had brought this on himself, extortion or no—the force of Evin’s compassion had moved her unexpectedly. She found herself growing more fond of the man by the day.

Shivering, Ryn jumped out of the pool and dried herself quickly, slipping into her clean clothes and kneeling to scrub the dirty ones to dry overnight. The Warmaster of the Val’gren was not easily fooled, she thought, though if anyone could do it it’d be the Lord of the Eloni; still, she wondered if she oughtn’t start scouting a bit when they made camp at night. Maybe climb a tall tree and see if there was anyone on their tails before they settled to sleep.

Tomorrow, she decided, she would begin doing that. Just to be safe.

Nodding to herself as she wrung out her now-clean breeches, she stood and turned to go, arms full of damp clothes and her Y’rai knife. Her stomach lurched into her throat as she tried to move and her right foot caught in something—the willow root, she knew instinctively—throwing her forward and toward the ground. She barely had time to realize she was going down before brown filled her vision and she thumped headfirst into something soft, but firm.

“Oof!” she heard Evin grunt as his arms went round her in an attempt to keep them both on their feet. She felt the wet clothes pressed against her front, cold, but everywhere else there was nothing but warmth.

She should have stood immediately on her own two feet and laughed it off. She should have pulled away and maintained her distance. She should have punched him in the shoulder playfully.

She should have done anything else.

Surprised by the feel of warm, strong arms around her, Ryn did not laugh, punch, or pull away; instead she stayed where she was for a moment, trying to register what was happening, before her body betrayed her and she burrowed into Evin’s heat, gooseflesh erupting all over her chilly bare arms. It was all quite pleasant, despite the distant alarm bells going off in her head that were drowned out completely by a woodsy, masculine scent.

“You smell good,” She muttered into his shoulder. She felt a shudder wrack his frame, and wondered momentarily if he was getting ready to push her away. Before she could panic, however, she felt his face press against her damp hair and his breath brush her ear as he whispered back,

“So do you.”

Ryn knew what the heat that bloomed in her stomach meant, even though her experience with it was admittedly sparse. She had heard people speak of this—in tavern corners, in giggles in dark alcoves as she passed by—this swooping sensation in her belly, this tingle in her fingertips where she felt the texture of his leather jerkin, this thrill that ran up and down her spine as his breath ghosted against her skin.

Desire.

Fear tightened in a heavy knot in her chest that overrode even the effects of his dozy warmth as she jumped back suddenly. She struggled to regain her equilibrium at the sight of her friend in the failing light and stuttered, “Yes well, that would be the…the bathing—the lapis oil. Yes. Here.”

She dumped her wet things in his arms unceremoniously and stumbled back to camp, Kota picking his delicate way behind her, sniffing at whatever struck his fancy. Evin was a minute behind, looking a bit shell-shocked as he hung her wet things on the thin wooden rods near the fire.

And though they sat in their customary positions by the fire—Ryn next to Evin on one side and Kota on the other—she carefully avoided touching him, and slept further from both brothers that night than she had since they had begun traveling together.

Because absolutely no good at all could come of any situation that included her, Evin, and desire.