“They can balance each other,” Ada suggested as she watched the siblings, their heads bent close together as they laughed over the balloon animals. “They are so young.” Her sigh echoed around the room.
“They will be ready,” Agatha swore firmly.
“They will. But do we take their innocence in the name of war?” Aryna mused.
“There is no innocence in war, Sisters,” Agatha reminded them. “Show us the Blade,” she commanded the oval basin that held the magical waters. The seeing pool changed scenes, and Tegan sat on Michael’s bed, their hands clasped together as they spoke.
“He was harmed.” Ada was not happy with the fact.
“The Mark was with him. The Mark would not fail her.”
“We could have prevented this.” Ada pointed at Michael’s neck where the scar on his neck was visible.
“It needed to be done,” Aryna protested.
“It was too close.”
“It was fine.” Agatha failed to hide her impatience.
“We put too much faith in their bonds with each other.” Ada looked between her two sisters. “And the bond of their Elders, can we be sure?”
“It is in the hands of the Ancients,” Aryna said pompously.
“Weare the hands of the Ancients,” Ada replied waspishly.
“We know.”
Ada stormed away from her two giggling sisters, muttering to herself. Almost a millennium, it had been just her and her sisters. The door closed behind her, shutting out their laughter. Sometimes you just needed your own space.
* * *
Cord woke before his brother. It had always been the case. Silently he slipped out of the bed and made his way to the adjoining door. He knew Tegan was in her room—the bond told him so—and he opened the door hesitantly. She was still asleep, and as he crossed the floor of her room after closing the door quietly behind him, he found her sleeping on her back.
One hand lay palm up against her face, the other under her pillow. Cord recognised the sleeping position. He had no doubt that his little tiger had her hand on a weapon under the pillow. She wore some kind of thin strapped top that was doing little to cover her modesty. One leg was hooked out over the covers, showing her matching sleep shorts. Cord knew his gaze lingered on her bare leg for too long.
“I will gut you where you stand, Castor,” Tegan said softly without opening her eyes.
“If you protest so much, why are you still on display?”
Tegan’s eyes snapped open as she glared at him. Cord leaned over her bed and caught a lock of her hair, running it through his fingers. “I thought you would wear more to sleep in.”
“Should you be thinking of me sleeping at all?” Tegan’s eyes searched his as she looked confused.
“I don’t think I knew I was thinking of you sleeping…until I saw you sleeping,” Cord admitted ruefully. “Now I fear I may only be able to think of you sleeping.” His finger traced her calf curiously, and he watched in avid fascination as her skin prickled with his touch.
Tegan watched him watch the path of his finger as it stroked over her ankle. A warm feeling started in the pit of her stomach, and she was confused as to why she wasn’t drawing away from his light touch. “Did you want something?” Her voice was so low she would not have been surprised if he had not heard her.
“Why did you not tell them that I held you in the room?” Cord’s eyes pulled reluctantly away from where his hand was. “You told them I treated you well.”
“It is between us.” Tegan drew her leg away as she sat up in the bed. Pushing her hair out of her face, she looked up at him. “We were going to be questioned, and I knew you would have to tell them, so why make it worse by us being at odds?”
“Are we?”
Tegan blinked at him. “Are we what?”
“At odds, little tiger.” Cord smiled down at her. Her thoughts and feelings were always easy to read; she was so incredibly innocent in life. He gave a contemptuous round of applause to the Ancients that thought pairing them together was wise.
“Well, yes? We are not friends.” Tegan tilted her head as she looked at him. “Are we?”