not ordered them to leave in the morning, they would not have been able to risk remaining in Twillig’s Gorge longer.
At dawn, they had to leave.
Though he had slain Tlatecuhtli for them, and in doing might well have spared them a confrontation with the Hunters, the rest of the Borderkind shunned Coyote as the meeting drew to a close. He bid a somber farewell to Blue Jay, ignoring the others, and was the first to leave the tavern.
Chorti and Cheval agreed to meet Frost and Blue Jay in the foyer of the inn at sunup, then departed. Wayland Smith promised Kitsune and Oliver that he would return an hour before dawn to see them off, and then he also took his leave.
At the bottom of the stairs, Oliver and his companions gathered, perhaps for the last time.
“I want to thank you all,” he began.
Frost tilted his head, a smile on his sharply angled features. Outside, dusk had arrived, and it was a fading light that gleamed on his icy form now.
“I believe we’re beyond debt or gratitude now, Oliver,” Frost said, and his blue-white, frozen diamond eyes narrowed. “We are comrades now, aren’t we? After all we’ve been through. Comrades, come what may. We will be parted for a time, but wherever we may go, we are brothers in arms.”
Oliver could not speak. The winter man was not one for sentiment, and he found himself absurdly touched by Frost’s words.
Blue Jay clapped him on the shoulder. “Until dawn, Oliver. Sleep well.”
“You, too.”
“Blue Jay, a word, if you will,” Frost said.
“About our recruits, I assume,” the trickster said.
Frost nodded and the two of them drifted back toward the tavern. Others had begun to enter the inn and head in that direction. There might not be many visitors in Twillig’s Gorge, but that did not translate into a shortage of patrons for the tavern.
“Shall we?” Kitsune said, gesturing toward the stairs.
“Absolutely,” Oliver said. “I’m tired enough to just go to sleep right on the steps.”
“I think that might be frowned upon.”
They smiled at one another and started up the stairs. As they reached the landing on the third floor, Oliver reached out to take her hand.
“Kit, wait.”
One eyebrow raised, she turned to face him, jade eyes flashing with curiosity. Her cloak swayed around her, soft copper fur brushing his arm.
“I just wanted to say…I mean, you don’t know how much it means—”
Kitsune reached up to touch his face, then darted her head in and kissed him once, quickly, on the mouth. He’d never felt lips so soft, never smelled anything as wonderful as her scent.
She pulled back and watched him, one corner of her mouth lifted.
For several seconds, he only stood there stupidly. Then he shook his head. “Kit, you know…when this is all over, I’m going home. This isn’t my world. Julianna’s waiting for me. She
is
home, for me.”
A glimpse of sadness flashed in her eyes, but her smile never wavered.
“Go to bed, Oliver,” she said.
Kitsune walked down the hall and disappeared into her room, leaving him standing by himself in the corridor.
His skin prickled as though he was surrounded by static electricity. When she had kissed him, and stood so near, the temptation had been powerful. Oliver could not deny that Kitsune stirred desire in him. She would have had such an effect on any man. Everything about her was magical; but, in the world of the legendary,
everything
was magical. He reminded himself of that now.
All his life, Oliver had believed in magic, in things beyond the scope of human understanding. No matter what peril it had brought him, he reveled in the discovery that he had been right all along. And yet the more he saw of magical creatures and enchanted lands, the more he longed for the simpler magics of the mundane world.
A small smile touched his lips as his mind flooded with memories and images of Julianna: the music of her laughter; the knowing, indulgent look in her eyes; the way her fingers slid into his
At dawn, they had to leave.
Though he had slain Tlatecuhtli for them, and in doing might well have spared them a confrontation with the Hunters, the rest of the Borderkind shunned Coyote as the meeting drew to a close. He bid a somber farewell to Blue Jay, ignoring the others, and was the first to leave the tavern.
Chorti and Cheval agreed to meet Frost and Blue Jay in the foyer of the inn at sunup, then departed. Wayland Smith promised Kitsune and Oliver that he would return an hour before dawn to see them off, and then he also took his leave.
At the bottom of the stairs, Oliver and his companions gathered, perhaps for the last time.
“I want to thank you all,” he began.
Frost tilted his head, a smile on his sharply angled features. Outside, dusk had arrived, and it was a fading light that gleamed on his icy form now.
“I believe we’re beyond debt or gratitude now, Oliver,” Frost said, and his blue-white, frozen diamond eyes narrowed. “We are comrades now, aren’t we? After all we’ve been through. Comrades, come what may. We will be parted for a time, but wherever we may go, we are brothers in arms.”
Oliver could not speak. The winter man was not one for sentiment, and he found himself absurdly touched by Frost’s words.
Blue Jay clapped him on the shoulder. “Until dawn, Oliver. Sleep well.”
“You, too.”
“Blue Jay, a word, if you will,” Frost said.
“About our recruits, I assume,” the trickster said.
Frost nodded and the two of them drifted back toward the tavern. Others had begun to enter the inn and head in that direction. There might not be many visitors in Twillig’s Gorge, but that did not translate into a shortage of patrons for the tavern.
“Shall we?” Kitsune said, gesturing toward the stairs.
“Absolutely,” Oliver said. “I’m tired enough to just go to sleep right on the steps.”
“I think that might be frowned upon.”
They smiled at one another and started up the stairs. As they reached the landing on the third floor, Oliver reached out to take her hand.
“Kit, wait.”
One eyebrow raised, she turned to face him, jade eyes flashing with curiosity. Her cloak swayed around her, soft copper fur brushing his arm.
“I just wanted to say…I mean, you don’t know how much it means—”
Kitsune reached up to touch his face, then darted her head in and kissed him once, quickly, on the mouth. He’d never felt lips so soft, never smelled anything as wonderful as her scent.
She pulled back and watched him, one corner of her mouth lifted.
For several seconds, he only stood there stupidly. Then he shook his head. “Kit, you know…when this is all over, I’m going home. This isn’t my world. Julianna’s waiting for me. She
is
home, for me.”
A glimpse of sadness flashed in her eyes, but her smile never wavered.
“Go to bed, Oliver,” she said.
Kitsune walked down the hall and disappeared into her room, leaving him standing by himself in the corridor.
His skin prickled as though he was surrounded by static electricity. When she had kissed him, and stood so near, the temptation had been powerful. Oliver could not deny that Kitsune stirred desire in him. She would have had such an effect on any man. Everything about her was magical; but, in the world of the legendary,
everything
was magical. He reminded himself of that now.
All his life, Oliver had believed in magic, in things beyond the scope of human understanding. No matter what peril it had brought him, he reveled in the discovery that he had been right all along. And yet the more he saw of magical creatures and enchanted lands, the more he longed for the simpler magics of the mundane world.
A small smile touched his lips as his mind flooded with memories and images of Julianna: the music of her laughter; the knowing, indulgent look in her eyes; the way her fingers slid into his
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