Page 39 of The Pactbound Angel (The Soul Mirror Duet #1)

Staring Georgina down, my trembling hands balled into tight fists, I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this much anger.

No, this wasn’t anger; this was rage. I could take her snide insults and harassment, but not this.

This selfish disregard for another, a traveling companion even, all for the sake of a more convenient battlefield.

My teeth clenched so hard they hurt. I saw redness at the edge of my vision when I looked at her.

My voice was calm, with an undercurrent of stark warning. “We will go to her home. And kill her there. None of us will be turned into fodder just so you can maybe get your tools back a little easier. Do you understand, Georgina?”

Georgina opened her mouth, but, based on her sneer, it wasn’t to agree.

I interrupted her, bellowing even louder than before, “I said, do you understand?”

Georgina took a step back, and M.A.L.C.O.L.M.’s joints squeaked as he stood up in a defensive position for his mistress.

Georgina’s mouth became a line. She uttered bitterly, muted, “Yes. I understand.”

My indignant tone made it clear I would suffer no more arguments.

“Good. Now, everyone go to bed. We have several days to go into the mountains. We leave when there’s light enough to see.

” I turned heel to stalk back to my tent, leaving silence in my wake.

It wasn’t until my tent flaps were tied down that I let the tears go.

The next morning was subdued. No one spoke, not even M.A.L.C.O.L.M.

or Raewyn. We packed up in utter silence and headed east, towards where we believed the mountain pass to be.

No one mentioned the mischief hag. In fact, no one said anything all day except me giving directions or if someone needed to relieve themselves.

That night, we all agreed to sleep in Ramiren’s large tent, privacy and anger be damned. She knew we were here, and as Ramiren had reminded everyone, she liked to steal people. The decision to sleep together, under the same roof, seemed wise.

Though we all had bedrolls, Ramiren insisted on giving me, Raewyn, and Georgina the bed while he took the floor.

I protested, as this was Ramiren’s tent, but Raewyn and Georgina overruled me.

It was the first time they had actively cooperated, so I wasn’t going to argue.

Ramiren seemed grateful for the offer of the folding cot my sister had been using.

All three of us fit on the bed, thanks to Georgina’s diminutive size. Raewyn took the side closest to the heated tent wall, as it was the warmest. Georgina the middle, as it was the most secure. Raewyn didn’t seem to be happy sleeping next to the gnome, but exhaustion won out.

I slept closer to the open edge. Closer to Ramiren, I realized when settling on my left side into the soft feather mattress.

While dozing in and out of consciousness, my memories repeated themselves over and over in my head. What if the hag had stolen Ramiren? Or my sister? Or Georgina? Gods know what she does with those taken.

Would we find anyone alive there, in her cave? Or just piles of bones, as the barkeep had warned?

With a silent sigh, I dragged my stinging eyes open.

Moonlight filtered through the tent’s opening, silhouetting the damaged automaton who stood guard at the entrance.

My vision adjusted to the darkness, and I tilted my head on the pillow to see Ramiren on his right side, wide awake and staring straight ahead.

At me. He rarely removed his glasses, so I appreciated the new view. He looked almost innocent without them.

I whispered, “Can’t sleep?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” his whisper was even softer than mine. “You?”

“I can’t seem to settle my mind.”

“Oh? What troubles you?”

I shrugged the shoulder I wasn’t lying on. “Anxieties. Fears. I am afraid.”

His lips twitch downwards. “Of what?”

“Failure. Another person hurt, and I am too late to stop it.”

He sounded gently instructive. “You can’t save everyone. And if you try to, you’ll set yourself up for failure before you’ve even begun. You’ll save no one.”

I exhaled loudly through my nose. “No, I know. I’m not a god, just a protector without a charge. I can only do so much, protect so many, just...”

There was silence between us as my words trailed off, though my eyes stayed on him.

My eyebrows rose. “Why can’t you sleep?”

He licked his lips, and his tone turned serious, “When the mischief hag had me at her mercy, I tried to call for you.”

Not enjoying the memory, my reflex was to be reassuring. “I know. I heard. One of your whispers.”

He hesitated. The look in his eyes turned panicked. My head lifted slightly off the pillow. “What?”

His whisper softened. I almost couldn’t hear it. “I didn’t throw a whisper, Nathalia.”

Blinking dumbly, I repeated myself. “What?”

He grimaced. “I tried to. However, I was disrupted, like you disrupted the hag’s incantation. I couldn’t finish it with my gag, but you heard it all the same. I am trying to figure out how. I’ve been trying to figure it out. I simply don’t understand.”

How could a thrown whisper work without magic? Who knows what kind of innate abilities broodlings have? “Perhaps your magic is more potent than you realized?”

Ramiren shook his head. “No. It has its limitations, like anything. I must be able to speak to throw a whisper.”

My sister’s loud, groggy voice startled me, “Minue’s tits, would you two shut up?”

The tension vanished into smoke, like the mischief hag had. Ramiren and I both choked back embarrassed laughter, then grinned at each other. I extended my hand to him, into the small gulf between our two beds, and he took it without a word.

The sun rose and set twice more before we spotted it.

Oftentimes, Ramiren and I would find ourselves in each other's company, a comfort from the unfortunate but necessary situation we had found ourselves in. Usually we talked, but sometimes we’d just sit in a kind of companionable silence.

I even lent him one of my books, which I’d never done for anyone besides Raewyn.

After several days of sharing stories, playing cards, or even the occasional game of chess, a whisper brushed past my ear. “Wine?”

I had been sitting at the meager campfire, sharpening my sword with a whetstone when I heard it. Sheathing the weapon to silently approach Ramiren’s tent, I tapped on the canvas. "Ramiren? It's me."

Ramiren's reply came from within, "Please, come in.”

I stepped into the interior of his roomy tent and adjusted the flaps closed.

He was lying on his feather bed, half-reclined, looking through the pouch next to him.

“I'm not quite settled down for the evening.

I'm afraid I'm running low on quality wineskins, but I likely have a few acceptable ones yet.

If I can find them." His shirt hung open, unbuttoned to his mid-chest, revealing smooth tanned skin.

My eyes traveled up and down him as I walked over. The corner of my mouth tugged up in both amusement and enjoyment of the view. "Was this on purpose or do you always look like that when you lounge?" Sitting on the corner of the bed, I sank into the thick mattress and leaned against the footboard.

"I'm getting used to finding comfort when staying in places quite a bit more rough than I'm accustomed to." He smirked, peering at me over the rim of his glasses. "So, on purpose, but without specific intent. Ah, here it is." He plucked a small wineskin from his pouch.

I smiled fully, lifting my hand to catch the wineskin he tossed to me.

"I trained at the Horyn Academy. Those might have been even more rough in manners than our current situation entails.

" Inhaling over the mouthpiece of the wineskin, my smile widened further.

"Kibelan spiced red? I didn’t know you could get this anymore.

" I tipped the wineskin to take a drink.

Damned orcs. Fomona wine just isn’t the same.

"Yes, good enough, but not excellent. I should have stocked up on fey wine when we were in Elancia."

I sputtered, almost spraying the wine in a misty plume as the tawny port in Puldoni, and how giddy I felt after a few decent sips, came to mind. “Isn’t fey wine dangerous?”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “That’s the rumor, but no, it’s not dangerous. Just especially potent. Like our fortified wines.”

"Mm. Maybe, after all of this is over, and we've gone our separate ways, we'll be able to share bottles over the years. I’d like to at least maintain a friendship between us." My smile fell.

Why does that make me feel sad?

His own smile did not waver. "We have as much time as we wish, as far as I'm concerned. Should we go our separate ways, no matter how far in the future, I know, for my part, I'd like that."

My smile returned as my eyebrow raised. "Should? Don’t you mean when ?"

Ramiren mirrored me, raising an eyebrow of his own. “Yes, of course. But my point still stands. We have all the time we need.”

"And here I thought I was learning quickly." My full grin returned teasingly.

Flirting again?

Yes, I am flirting. What of it?

Careful you don’t grow too attached. He is not for you. You two cannot have children. And despite his wealth, he is not a noble, which is the expectation for you.

I’m already too attached, you dumb harpy. I know. And most of the men who courted me in Camlynn were nobles and not worth the shit on a hog’s backside…

Ramiren sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"I try to not assume anything and just let things play out. Though I believe you eventually will , who knows when you’ll find the one you will eventually settle for.

Deadlines, especially, can create pressure, which isn't really something I'd want introduced to our time together. "

I looked at him after taking another sip straight from the wineskin and chuckled. "At least, not that kind of pressure."

He laughed softly, his shoulders shaking. "Fair enough. I suppose, sometimes, certain pressures are more or less required."