Page 9

Chapter 9

Avery

A very watched Elliot pace the limits of their makeshift campsite. Why did it have to be the lamp out of all the possible items? She would have sold him anything else in her cart. She would have given him anything else.

Watching his distress was painful. But even more painful was the lingering splinter of doubt in the depths of her mind. It was awfully convenient that his tie—a tie that could only be confirmed by Elliot’s own sensations—was with the lamp. What if the whole thing was an elaborate drama to bypass the smith’s waiting list?

Avery didn’t think Elliot was that good an actor, but what did she really know about him? Only what he’d told her himself.

Eventually he stopped pacing and came back to stand in front of her. His manner was calmer, although his eyes still stormed as fiercely as they’d done before.

“Can I at least see it?” he asked in a carefully controlled voice.

Avery gripped the satchel, and he sighed.

“I won’t try to take it. I won’t even touch it. I just want to see it. To confirm…”

Avery was pretty sure they didn’t need further confirmation. But she also couldn’t deny the only request she could agree to.

She carefully extracted the lamp from the satchel, unwrapping it from the soft material the smith had wound around it. When it was revealed, she held it up with one hand, her other hand resting warily on the hilt of her dagger.

But Elliot made no attempt to approach closer. Instead, his eyes examined the lamp from where he stood, tracing over the elegant handle and the curve of the spout. The design was unusual for the southern kingdoms, but that was to be expected given the smith’s origins. Other than the rounded shape and single spout, it appeared to be an ordinary brass lamp—although it was a well-crafted one.

Elliot’s expression of defeat deepened, however. “That’s definitely it,” he said in a flat tone. “I can feel it. Which leaves us where? You won’t sell it to me, and I can’t be separated from it.”

They looked at each other, the realization hitting them both at the same time. For as long as Avery had the lamp, Elliot would have to stay with her.

“Will you allow me to travel with you?” Elliot asked.

She blinked, pressing her lips together as her eyes darted all over the clearing. Elliot wasn’t a roving merchant, and he didn’t know what he was asking of her.

Apart from anything else, the prospect was daunting. She hadn’t traveled with another person in nearly two years. Could she really allow a perfect stranger to accompany her?

But what was the alternative? Leave him to die?

“You’ll have to come with me,” she said quietly.

“To Bolivere, I suppose?” he said in a hard tone she hadn’t heard before. “Whether I want to go or not.”

She nodded slowly, wary. She hadn’t been expecting excessive thanks for making the offer—he couldn’t have known what it meant to her—but neither had she expected him to be offended by it.

“It turns out my mother was right,” he said in icy tones that cut. “She always said that if anyone found out about my link to the candelabra, they would use it to control me.”

Avery’s hand tightened around the handle of the lamp.

“You don’t have to come,” she snapped.

He laughed—an empty, humorless sound. “Don’t worry. I’ll follow obediently to Bolivere. My life depends on it, after all. So tell me,” he added in a mocking tone. “What are your commands? Will we camp here for the rest of the afternoon, or will we push on?”

Avery swallowed, unable to imagine sitting next to him on the cart for several hours.

“I think we’ll stay here for today,” she said shakily.

He bowed mockingly. “Your wish is my command, oh master.”

“Don’t!” she snapped. “I don’t want this any more than you do.”

He straightened, his face softening a little. For a moment they looked at each other, and then he sighed.

“I can hear the stream from here. I’m going to gather some water.” His eyes settled on the lamp. “I think it’s close enough that it shouldn’t cause me much of a problem.”

Avery nodded. He clearly wanted to get away from her, and it was best to let him, as far as was possible. They both could do with some space.

When Elliot disappeared from sight behind the closest trees, she sat down abruptly, taking several long breaths. It was earlier than she would usually make camp for the night, but it had already been a long day. Had her tumble into the stream only been a few hours earlier?

It was one thing to accept a traveling companion, but it was another to accept a companion who was both furiously angry with her and possibly untrustworthy. Could she really travel with Elliot?

But it didn’t matter how much she considered the matter or how much she disliked the idea, the basic facts remained the same. She couldn’t give up the lamp, and she couldn’t leave Elliot to die.

She eventually stood and busied herself with activity. After a life on the road, she could set up camp in her sleep, but she was used to setting up a solitary camp. This time it would look a little different.

Elliot’s bedroll was attached to his pack, and she took the liberty of setting it up on the opposite side of the fire to Nutmeg. She laid out her own roll underneath the cart, only feet from her horse. She usually liked to sleep in the open—preferably with a view of the stars. But she sometimes used the cart for shelter if she was caught in the rain. And on this occasion, she wanted Nutmeg between her bedroll and Elliot’s. She might not trust Elliot, but she trusted that her horse would give her a warning before he got anywhere near the cart.

As she worked, she kept the reassuring weight of the satchel strapped to her back. And when night came, she intended to sleep with it inside her bedroll. The satchel wouldn’t be leaving her side until they reached Bolivere and she handed over the lamp.

When Elliot finally reappeared, a loaded waterskin over his shoulder, he stopped on the edge of the campsite. Taking in her preparations, his whole posture deflated. He didn’t comment, though, placing the waterskin in the back of the cart and running a hand through his hair.

When he turned to her, she spoke quickly. “I’ve heated up some food. Neither of us have eaten since before our adventure in the stream, so why don’t we start with a meal?”

He hesitated but eventually nodded and joined her by the fire. When she handed him his portion, he accepted it silently.

Sitting on separate sides of the fire, they ate in continued silence. Only when Elliot was halfway through his meal did he finally speak. “This is good.”

Avery managed a smile. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“Most people I meet on the road aren’t good cooks,” he said. “Myself included.”

She shrugged. “My mother taught me.”

“Would you be willing to do the cooking, then?” he asked hesitantly. “I have food supplies to contribute, of course.”

“Since you just told me you’re a bad cook, it’s in my own interests to agree.” Avery softened her words with a smile. “You can wash up, though.”

He nodded, chewing in silence for another minute before putting his plate down and sighing.

“I’m sorry, Avery.” He met her eyes, sincerity in his voice and gaze. “My reaction earlier wasn’t fair. As frustrated as I am with the situation, I know it isn’t your fault. And I know you’re not trying to control me.”

“No,” Avery said indignantly, “I’m not. I never asked to have a traveling companion forced on me!”

Elliot winced. “No, you didn’t. Which makes my reaction worse. It’s just…” He sighed and looked into the banked fire. “Ever since I can remember, my mother has drummed into me that if anyone found out my secret, they’d use it to control me. And when I finally told someone, it was like all my worst fears immediately came true.”

Avery’s remaining resentment drained away. The force of his reaction had concerned her, but when he put it like that it made perfect sense. The situation was inconvenient for her, but it was far worse for him.

“Bolivere is the last place in the kingdoms I want to go,” he added. “But you have no reason to know that. You’re not going there because of me. It’s just—it’s bad enough that I’m forced into further travel at all, but it makes it worse to be going backward. I’ve spent years traveling, and I’m sick of it. I want to settle down. To have a proper home and neighbors. That’s where I was headed when I was robbed. I was going to move to the Sovaran capital.”

Like Olivia, Avery thought pointlessly. Would the two meet there?

She pushed the thought aside. It didn’t matter where Elliot settled or who he met. It had nothing to do with her.

“That’s unfortunate,” she said softly. “But I can’t delay my return to Bolivere—even if it is in the opposite direction to the Sovaran capital. And a delay wouldn’t ultimately help you anyway.”

She hesitated, her brows pulling together. “I can’t give you the lamp, but perhaps the townsfolk of Bolivere will. Once they’ve finished using it, that is.”

Elliot looked into the fire, his expression tight. “Or maybe they’ll run me out of town,” he murmured.

Avery frowned. When she had last met the people of Bolivere, they had been desperate, but even that hadn’t dented their usual consideration. She’d always found it a pleasant town.

“I’m sure they won’t do that,” she murmured, wishing she sounded less uncomfortable and more comforting. But it was obvious Elliot had some sort of issue with Bolivere and its inhabitants. She couldn’t ask him to tell her about it, though, not when she was refusing to talk about her current mission for the town.

Elliot pulled off one of his boots, wincing as he did so. A stab of guilt hit Avery as she remembered he’d been forced to follow her wet and barefoot.

“Even if Bolivere does give you the lamp,” she said slowly, “it’s only a temporary fix. What if it gets stolen again? Or someone else finds out about your tie to it?”

“I’m aware of the problem,” he said dryly. “I have literal nightmares about the possibility.”

“So we shouldn’t be convincing Bolivere to give you the lamp,” Avery said, warming to the topic. “We should be finding a way to cut your tie to it completely.”

Elliot froze halfway through taking off his second boot. “Is that even possible? I’ve never heard of someone breaking their tie to their birth kingdom, so I don’t know why my tie would be any different.”

“I’ve heard of it happening,” Avery said cheerfully. “My ancestor.”

Elliot’s eyebrows rose. “The first roving merchant? I always thought he was born without a link to any of the Legacies. I guess I assumed he came from over the mountains or something.”

Avery shook her head. “If that was all it was, his children would have been tied to whichever kingdom they were born in. According to family tradition, our ancestor was born in Halbury, but he managed to cut his tie to the Halbury Legacy at some point in his adulthood.”

Elliot leaned forward, his painful feet forgotten.

“How did he do it?” His blue eyes were fixed on Avery with painful intensity.

She pressed her lips together. “I don’t actually know,” she admitted.

He slumped back, disappointed. “Are you sure it’s not just a family legend?”

Avery straightened. “If it was just a legend, how do you explain how every one of his descendants can travel freely through the kingdoms?”

Elliot finally pulled off the remaining boot, standing it carefully next to the first one.

“I don’t know why I haven’t put more thought into it before,” he said. “If there’s a chance of cutting my tie to that lump of brass, I’d willingly cross all six kingdoms again to manage it.”

“I’ll help you,” Avery said impulsively. “You travel with me to Bolivere and let me give your lamp to the townsfolk there. And then I’ll help you find a way to break your tie to it. We’ll find and interview every member of my extended family if we have to—even the ones I’ve never met. Someone has to know what happened.”

“It was a long time ago,” Elliot said warily, but he looked hopeful.

The hope in his eyes wormed its way into Avery’s heart, making it thump painfully. She couldn’t abandon someone who was so desperate he’d cling to any tendril of hope he was offered.

“My parents were never interested in the family history,” she said, “but one of my distant cousins is the family historian. I’ve only met Matilda once, but she has written records of every generation of roving merchants. She has to know more than I do.”

The hope in Elliot’s expression flared brighter.

“Thank you,” he said, all his earlier anger and frustration utterly extinguished. “If you can find a way to free me from this tie, I’ll pay you every coin I have. Or I’ll repay the favor! Tell me your greatest desire, and I’ll help you find a way to fulfill it—however difficult or frivolous.”

Avery chuckled, his eagerness making it impossible to be offended by his talk of payment, even though she’d never asked for any.

“I didn’t offer because I want payment.” She stood. “I’m going to bed. I recommend you don’t come near the cart—unless you’d like a horse hoof to the chest.”

Elliot also scrambled up, wincing as his weight transferred to the bottom of his feet.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I only said it because I would be so grateful.”

Avery gave him a stern look. “Merchants take payments very seriously.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated so meekly that she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. Was he laughing at her?

“I promise never to offer you coin again,” he said with a grin that confirmed it.

“Just go to sleep,” Avery grumbled. “We’ll be leaving early in the morning.” She patted Nutmeg’s neck on her way past, calling over the horse. “And don’t come near the cart!”

“I wouldn’t dare!” Elliot called back, and Avery smiled to herself.

Her uncle had recommended she travel with a large guard dog or two, but Nutmeg was as good as any dog. With the horse untethered beside her, her new traveling companion wouldn’t cause her any loss of sleep.

But as she lay in her bedroll, trying fruitlessly to drift off, it wasn’t concern about Elliot that kept her awake. It was concern for him. Had she promised more than she could deliver? She had liked seeing the hope in his eyes, and she didn’t want to see disappointment and betrayal take its place.