“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “A lot has happened.”
A breathy chuckle rumbled through Daks’s chest. “You could say that again. But we’ll figure it out.”
Ravi smiled against Daks’s chest. When had that overabundance of confidence become more charming than annoying? He chose not to question it or him and closed his eyes.
Chapter Seventeen
RAVI FELT surprisingly good when he rolled out of bed the following morning. Even waking up entirely alone in a strange place didn’t seem to bother him as much as he thought it would. Someone had left him a small tray of bread, butter, and some now cold honeyed tea, and he ate unhurriedly as he pondered his odd newfound calm, poking and prodding at it with a strange detachment.
He’d slept curled in Daks’s arms all night long, pressed together not for sex, but for comfort and connection. That could definitely be one reason why he was no longer feeling overwhelmed and anxious.
He loves me.
He rolled that thought around in his mind, but he had a feeling it would take a while before it really sank in and took root. Slowly and deliberately, he changed into the set of freshly cleaned and mended clothing someone had kindly left folded in a neat pile at the end of the bed. Many thoughts fluttered at the back of his mind, not frantic, fearful, or loud, but soft, determined, and possibly even hopeful. He felt… settled, which was a sensation he hadn’t experienced in a long time and seemed distinctly at odds with his current situation.
After pulling on his boots and cloak, he stepped out into the cool, mist-shrouded morning without bothering to draw up the hood. A soft breeze caressed his cheeks, and he smiled despite the chill. For some reason, the fog didn’t seem anywhere near as unnerving or oppressive as it had the last time he’d been in the boglands.
He started walking toward the muffled sounds of the villagers going about their day, but not in any rush. He needed just a little more time for his thoughts to finish taking shape and to fully understand where this new feeling came from before he went in search of Daks.
With each welcoming or curious set of eyes he boldly met as he made his way through the village, his confidence grew. This might be Rassa, but he wasn’t alone in his strangeness here. These people lived alongside men far stranger than himself. If he had a Vision, no one would call the Brotherhood, and he doubted anyone would shun him. Hells, they all had to know about his prophecy by now, and they still greeted him kindly. It was a revelation of sorts.
When he caught sight of Tas, the former pain priest, his newfound calm faltered a bit. Apparently, shoving aside a lifetime of fear wouldn’t be quite as speedy a process as he might’ve hoped. But when Tas spotted him and changed direction, Ravi lifted his chin and didn’t run away.
“Good morning,” Tas greeted hesitantly.
“Good morning.”
“I, uh, hope you’re feeling better today, now that you’ve rested.”
Tas’s awkwardness did much to ease Ravi’s fear of him—though the fact that he wasn’t wearing red robes or his holy stone helped immensely. Tas was only a man, and one who seemed almost as troubled by Ravi as Ravi was by him.
“I am. This is all a bit much to take in, though.”
Tas’s smile was sympathetic. “It is. I would be lying if I didn’t say I suffered through months of turmoil and uncertainty before wrapping my head around Singer, Lyuc, Bryn, and all the rest. I was very lucky to have Girik by my side, or I might have lost it altogether more than once, so I perfectly understand your feelings.”
Ravi frowned. “You were a brother, though, a member of the holy Thirty-Six. I would’ve thought all this magic stuff wouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise.”
His words had come out a lot more accusatory than he’d intended, and Tas actually flinched and took a small step back. “As I said yesterday, the Brotherhood, and I, have much to answer for. I am not proud of some of the things I’ve done in their name. My only excuse is that I thought I was doing good at the time… or at least I was doing what was necessary for the good of all.”
“But now you know differently?”
“I do. I learned the truth, which is why I will never wear the scarlet again. I also learned just how much I didn’t know about magic and the world we live in.” His lips twisted wryly. “Last winter in the mountains was very enlightening, and I’ve had months to work my way through it all, so don’t feel bad for being confused or overwhelmed, believe me.”
The self-deprecating smile and openness with which he’d spoken called forth a flood of questions that burned on the tip of Ravi’s tongue, but he bit them back. He had more important things to deal with first, before satisfying any insatiable familial curiosity. His mind was already full enough. Besides, open and friendly or not, Tas still made him uncomfortable and probably would for some time to come. He’d drag whatever details he could out of Mistress Sabin and Shura first before risking a lengthy conversation with this man, no matter how much the storyteller inside him whined with impatience to hear his tale.
Still, he did have one question niggling at him that might have great bearing on his immediate future.
“Why did you come back?”
“What?”
“Why did you come back? Lyuc said the barb—the, uh, clan was pushed out of the mountains by something, but why here? Surely Ghorazon or Samebar would have been safer for you to settle in. You’d just gotten away from the Brotherhood. Why come back?”
“I left Rassa only for some breathing room and time to train. I never intended to stay away. Rassa is my home. I dedicated my entire life to protecting its people. Even if
