Page 39 of When the Merchant Met the Orc

My face flushes, and I wave at her to shoo her away. Giggling, she flies into the sky until I can’t see her anymore.

Tamar pulls us through the ravine where Halvard fought off the thieves. Thunder rumbles ominously overhead. Halvard and I both look up to see swirling, black clouds that spark with rainbow light.

Oh no. I don’t even have time to worry about Fiorella being around. There’s a magical storm coming.

Chapter 20

Rychell

Wind blasts the wagon, and Halvard calls out to calm Tamar. Despite his efforts and mine, the mare rises up and whinnies in fear. Thunder booms across the darkening sky. A bolt of bright pink lightning splits the clouds.

Magical storms are more dangerous than regular bad weather. The magic that rains down will destroy the wagon and make Tamar, Halvard, and me very sick.

Halvard jumps from the driver’s bench and jogs up to Tamar’s head. He takes her bridle in one hand and runs the other over her neck. He turns to face me.

“There’s a cave past the bend!” he says above the snap of more lightning and the drum of another bout of thunder.

I’m so glad he’s here.

On my knees, I try not to fall as Halvard jogs with Tamar. The wagon bounces as I sloppily cover our purchased goods and our packs with the tarp. I hook each corner of the tarp on the wagon’s four metal claws. I’m glad I spent the extra coin to get the tarp with the metal rings at each corner.

Tamar pulls the cart into the turn. A rocky hill slopes up toward the ridge that overlooks the forest. Wind-tossed, red-leafed maples cluster around a dark opening in the gray stone. Halvard leads Tamar in that direction. Magic begins to pour from the churning sky. Purple, gold, green, and pink bits of chaotic magic sparkle their way toward us.

“Get your head down!” Halvard calls to me.

I crouch low, and Tamar tugs the wagon into the cave, barely missing the torrent of magic. Halvard is murmuring to the mare and leading her farther into the cave. I look up to see the cave’s fangs hanging down, formations from the water dripping over centuries.

Halvard stops Tamar and smooths a palm down her neck. “That’s good now, love.” He pulls something from his pocket and feeds it to her.

I have to give it to the orc. He’s annoying, but he’s prepared.

I crawl out of the wagon and help him unhitch Tamar so she can move freely. The space is big enough for two more wagons, and there’s a dry area beyond the rocky pathway. Tamar turns and watches the storm in the small circle of the cave’s opening. The thunder echoes. She dances, her hooves clicking on the stone.

Her back flank is smooth and soft, and I stroke her slowly, humming like I always do when grooming her. She finally stops dancing and takes a deep and blowing breath. Halvard has removed his sword and he is leaning it against the cave wall. He steps up beside me and crosses his arms. The flash of lightning blinks across his eyes.

“Rychell, you’re a good person,” he says over the noise of the rain, the magic, and the thunder. “A kind one. I’m sorry if I said, well, I’m sorry I acted like I did. Only you know what is best for you and your son. I should keep my opinions to myself.”

My heart melts at the sincerity in his voice. “I have to admit, he is rather dull.”

Halvard faces me, one side of his lips lifting, and his beard poking out a little. It’s very cute.

“You do, eh?” he asks.

A strange lightness fills me, and I can’t fight a smile. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m not blind to the way he acts. He’s steady. He’ll agree to a contract and likely keep it. I don’t think I’m wrong about that, and the peace that our agreement would create in my home and in his. And in Nate’s life. But…”

“But?”

“Thereisa place for personality,” I say, “even in an organized life.”

“I should think so.”

Chewing my lip, I watch the storm’s riot of colors outside the cave. I don’t know what to say or what I want Halvard to say, but the moment feels like a lute strung too tightly. I can guess what Fiorella would say. I don’t like her, but I do hope she found a safe place to ride out the storm. The thought of the wordridehas my face blazing again. What if I let go and explored the idea of being with Halvard? Would that satisfy my curiosity enough to then let it go?

And then the request is out of my mouth before I can think about it.

“Show me, Halvard.”

My gaze is on the cave’s entrance, but I can imagine the changing emotions flickering across his handsome face.