“I’m with you,” he said as he slipped into her. “I’m with you.”
They climbed again, eyes and bodies locked. Climbed until she swore the air thinned. And when her eyes gleamed with tears, they fell together.
21
TODAY, BOYLE THOUGHT AS HE DRANK BRUTALLY STRONG COFFEE AT HIS KITCHEN WINDOW.
He couldn’t stop it, or her. And in some part of himself he knew, even accepted that he, that she, that all of them had prepared for this day all of their lives.
Hard enough, it had always been hard enough to understand what his closest friends in the world might face one day—today—but with Iona it was only harder.
Whatever he could do he would to see her safely through it, to help her and the rest end it.
And then?
Once this day was done there would be a great deal more to do, if only he could figure out the hows of it all.
Sure how could he figure out anything when the day was to be filled with magick and violence, struggle and destinies? And very likely life and death.
His life, he thought, would’ve been easier by far if she’d never come into it.
Then he sensed her, turned, saw her standing outside his bedroom door, that short halo of hair still damp from her shower, her eyes deep and a bit sleepy yet before her coffee.
And he knew without a shadow, easier wasn’t what he wanted.
“Should we talk?” she asked him.
“Probably so, but it’s a strange day for all that.”
“It is, yeah. Later’s better.”
He nodded. “After, yes. There’s a lot to be said after this day.” Get busy, he told himself. Get moving. “You’ll have coffee, won’t you?”
“Absolutely.” But she didn’t move to pour it for herself as she’d done before.
He’d done that, he knew, made her feel a guest again. Words wanted to be said, but he held them back, and would until this long, strange day was done.
So he got down a mug, poured it for her.
“Thanks. I’m going to go down, spend some time with Alastar. Do you have any problem with me riding him home today, keeping him there until it’s time?”
“I don’t, no. He’s yours after all. I’ll ride with you.”
“Actually, I think Fin will. He and Branna need to refine any details of the magicks with Connor and me.”
“All right, but you don’t ride alone.” Carefully, he touched a hand to her shoulder. “Are you afraid?”
“No. Not afraid. I thought I’d be revved, pumped, with some good, healthy fear mixed in. I’m just not, and not sure why. I feel almost unreasonably calm. Today’s what I’ve been working for, training for, learning for. And that was ordained, I guess is the word for it, on the night Sorcha sacrificed herself.
“We finish what she started. And then . . .”
When he said nothing, she sipped at her coffee. “And then,” she continued, “we do good work, we lead good lives. That’s enough for anyone.”
“Your work and your life are here.”
“Yes.” On that, at least, she had no doubts. “My place is here.”
“I’ll fix us up some breakfast.”