“I don’t know.” He stopped, looked at her. There were a great many things he couldn’t give her, or ask of her, he reflected. At least honesty was a quality they could share.
“Yes, at least initially. Then you came to my door one night, and my plans changed. Or, they were postponed.”
“Postponed.” She nodded slowly. “And when Samhain’s come and gone, will you leave without a word?”
“Words would be useless, wouldn’t they?”
“Not to me.” There was panic rising up in her at the knowledge they were moving toward the end. How could she not have known that was waiting in her to push its way out and choke her? “Words would be precious to me. You want to leave. I can see it. You want to go.”
“I should have gone before. If I’d been quicker, I’d have been out the door and gone before you came to me. You’d be better off for it. This…with me. It’s no good for you.”
“How dare you? How dare you speak to me like a child who wants too many sweets? I’m sick to death of being lectured on what I should think, feel, have, do. If you want to go, you’ll go, but don’t insult me.”
“My going has nothing to do with what’s between us. It’s just something that has to be done. You agreed, and so did the rest.”
“If I hadn’t, they hadn’t, you’d have gone anyway.”
He watched her as he strapped on his sword. Pain was already slicing thin wounds in both of them, as he’d known it would from the moment he’d touched her. “Yes, but it’s less complicated this way.”
“Are you done with me then?”
“And if I am?”
“You’ll be fighting on two fronts, you right bastard.”
He laughed, couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t only pain between them, he realized. He’d do well to remember that. “Then it’s lucky for me I’m not done with you. Moira, last night you knew you had to be the one to end what had once been a boy you’d known, you’d been fond of. I knew it, so I stopped myself from doing it, from sparing you from that. I know I have to go, and go without you for now. You know that, too.”
“It doesn’t make it easier. We may never be alone again, never be able to be with each other as we were again. I want more time—there hasn’t been enough time, and I need more.”
She moved to him, held him hard and tight. “We didn’t have our night. It didn’t last till morning.”
“But the hours mattered, every minute of them.”
“I’m greedy. And already fretting that you’ll go while Istay.”
Not just today, he thought. Both of them knew she didn’t speak only of today. “Do women of Geall follow the tradition of sending their men off with a favor?”
“What would you have from me?”
“A lock of your hair.” The sentiment of it surprised him, and embarrassed a little. But when she drew back, he could see his request had pleased her.
“You’ll keep it with you? That part of me?”
“I would, if you’ll spare it.”
She touched her hair, then held up a hand. “Wait, wait. I have something. I’ll have to get it.” She heard the trumpet call of dragons. “Oh, they’re ready for you. I’ll bring it to you, outside. Don’t leave. Promise me you’ll wait until I come to say goodbye.”
“I’ll be there.” This time, he thought as she rushed out.
Outside, in the shelter of shade, Cian studied the dragons Larkin had chosen, and the men they’d decided on together.
Then he frowned down at the ball of hardened mud Glenna held out to him.
“Thanks, but I had quite enough at breakfast.”
“Very funny. It’s a bomb.”
“Red, it’s a ball of mud.”