“I don’t need the privacy,” I say with a shrug. “You’ve seen all there is of me to see.”
“Which is why I’m leaving,” he mutters as he turns for the door. “I don’t need the temptation.”
Bastien walks out, and I can’t help but laugh. He might still try to be aloof, but he just admitted that he wants me, even if he doesn’t want to want me.
I can work with that.
I ward the door as he asks and take a quick bath, knotting my hair on top of my head. I dress in a pair of denim jeans and a lightweight cotton shirt belted at the waist. My cowboy boots clunk on the wooden floor as I grab my saddle pack and head downstairs.
We’re mounted and riding north out of Avery as the coral-tinged sun breaks the horizon. We have no choice but to remain on the main road as there is nothing but flat pasture land all around us and no way to travel under the cloak of forest. At least it’s early, and we don’t come upon a single soul, although we pass a few farms with some bustle of activity in the fields. No one pays us any attention, though.
Between plowed fields are meadows abundant with brilliant wildflowers. The mountain slopes are much different from the craggy, snow-covered peaks of the Tetons back in Wyoming. In addition to the flowering scrub roses covering the western side of the mountains, the other slopes are covered with pressians and other flowering and fruiting trees that create a kaleidoscope from afar.
“Have you given any thought to how you want to approach your uncle?” Bastien asks as King and Greta plod beside each other.
“I was thinking something along the lines of, ‘We come in peace. Please do not smite us with your blood mojo.’”
Bastien snorts, and I relish the sound of humor from him, even though nothing about what we’re getting ready to do is funny. It’s actually dangerous—this man, my relative, practiced the same prohibited magic that Ferelith used to kill my parents.
To kill his sister.
“Maybe I should approach by myself,” I ponder. If Hephastus is dangerous, he’s more likely to lash out at Bastien than me.
“Never going to happen, so don’t suggest it again,” Bastien grumbles.
I consider arguing, but as we round a bend, I spot Hephastus’s home. Lawrence described it well, and just as he told us, it sits at the edge of a meadow surrounded by large oak trees with a pond off to the side.
With the Rosethorn Mountains providing a backdrop against the flowered meadow, it produces a feeling of serenity. I wonder if Hephastus is the type to spend time fishing on the pond, or is he cooking up blood magics in the wooden shed offset from the back of the house?
No time like the present to find out.
As we ride up to the house, the front door opens and a man steps out. I haven’t seen him in twenty years, and my memories of him are fuzzy at best, but there’s no doubt it’s my uncle. Hephastus looks very much like my mother, which means he looks very much like me. He’s in his late fifties, if memory serves, but I don’t see a single strand of gray in his dark brown hair. The man is tall and lean, although his age is given away some in the lines of his face.
A smile graces his face, causing his eyes to crinkle in the corners.
The same green eyes that I bear, passed straight from my mother.
The sun is on him, and he holds up his hand to shade slightly against the soft rays as he squints. “Can I help you folks with something?”
Hephastus glances between Bastien and me before his gaze snaps back my way. Recognition dawns and his jaw drops. “Thalia?”
I feel so awkward, so I merely raise a hand in greeting. “Hello, Uncle.”
A smile beams bright, and he lets out a cry of happiness. He runs off the porch, straight at me. “Well, get down and give your uncle a hug,” Hephastus booms.
To my surprise, Bastien dismounts and puts himself between me and my uncle, hand resting on his sword. Hephastus pulls up short, attention now focused solely on Bastien. “Is there a problem?” he asks.
“There is if you mean your niece harm,” Bastien replies darkly.
Hephastus’s eyebrows shoot upward, and he looks to me, then back to Bastien. “Why in the world would I harm my niece?”
“You practice blood magic,” Bastien replies as I dismount King, but I hold back until I know it’s safe. “Because you were banished. Because there’s now a crazy woman ruling Kestevayne and other parts of Vyronas, and she practices blood magic, so you could be in league with her.”
Hephastus’s expression crumbles, and his eyes shine with tears. But his voice is hard and vengeful. “Don’t ever suggest I’m in league with Ferelith. That monster killed my sister and my brother-in-law, who I loved beyond this realm and back. Yes, I may have been banished here, but the love in our family never died. Selena and Jaron always checked in on me and kept me updated on everything going on in the family. They even visited on occasion.”