There was nothing he could do to stop it. Because Tristan was right.
He was useless. Cowardly.
And he couldn’t bear to watch it, couldn’t bear to see the last scraps of Alphonse fed to an ancient evil by her lover and a filthy thug.
So he wouldn’t.
With shaking hands, Etienne tore down his tent and left before the sun ever neared the horizon.
Chapter XXIV
Eighth Moon, Waxing Crescent : Thloegr
Alphonse giggled as she tried to pull away from Delyth’s warm embrace, instead falling in for more kisses.
“I have to start breakfast,” she murmured, reminding the warrior even as her hands slipped down Delyth’s body, still bare from the night before. So perfect to touch… She yanked her hands away, realizing she was falling into the same trap she had been prey to before the sun rose.
“Beast,” she murmured, her tone so far from insulting it was ludicrous. “You’re an absolute vixen.” Swallowing down her arousal, Alphonse kissed Delyth once more and straightened up, fixing her clothes.
Breakfast. It called to her.
Delyth sighed, letting her head fall back against her arm, dramatic but smiling. “If you absolutely have to.” She stretched out, trying to look particularly vixen-ish as though to get Alphonse to spend a few more minutes in the tent with her. “Chief Alphonse,” she murmured playfully, “off to prepare the troops.”
The healer shook her head at how silly Delyth was being and ducked out from the tent flap. It was a shame that Delyth didn’t feel she could show that tender, silly, playful, loving side in public.
Of course, Alphonse understood why. Delyth was a warrior priestess. She wasn’t supposed to be cracking jokes and winking and smiling. Her stoic nature protected her as much as it served as a perfect mask for her role as guardian of the temple.
Then again, she liked that Delyth only shared that special piece of herself with Alphonse. A little treasure just for the healer.
Smiling, Alphonse stirred up the coals to the fire and then took up her bucket to head towards the stream they’d been following for days now to get fresh water. Some to boil for tea and some to—
The bucket rattled to the ground as Alphonse dropped it.
She stood staring at the campsite like a frightened deer. Startled by hunters and too horrified to try and flee.
There was her and Delyth’s tent, then to the right Tristan’s, and then to the right of that…
Nothing.
No tent.
No Etienne.
Alphonse scrambled over to the spot as if getting closer to Etienne’s humble little shelter would make it suddenly appear. With him in it.
But standing where it had been pitched, she turned in a small circle, looking at the ground. She could see where the stakes had been pulled up in a hurry, the earth crumbling in small piles. It looked as if he hadn’t even slept, no indentations in the grass…
“Delyth!!” she screamed, running back to her tent and yanking the flap open. Birds shot to the sky in a flurry of wings, startled by her shriek of terror. “Etienne is gone! He’s missing! Someone—someone must have kidnapped him or— Did—did—” She gasped and turned to look where his tent had been. “Did I leave the tent last night!?!” What if Enyo had done something to get rid of Etienne?
With trembling hands Alphonse gripped her head, trying to think. Who would have taken him? Where would they have gone?!
༄
Delyth scrambled out of the pallet where she’d still been laying, too comfortable to rush into clothes and cold air. Alphonse was the color of bleached bone, her eyes wide and her words tumbling over each other in a race to escape her throat.
For a moment, the priestess just stared, trying to catch up.
Then she started to fling her clothes on.
“You didn’t leave the tent last night.”
Did she? Delyth didn’t remember marking a sigil. Her arms had been full at the time with Alphonse’s sleeping body. But no, it was impossible. She’d slept with the healer wrapped in her arms, both of them covered with a wing. There was no way she could have left and returned without Delyth waking.
So it hadn’t been Enyo, but neither of the other two options that came to mind seemed much better.
“Stay here.” She was pulling her boots on, Calamity already belted to her back. “I’ll go look for him.”
Delyth flung herself from the tent and into the air, ignoring Tristan’s still sleep-slowed countenance.
On one hand, this wasn’t a particularly safe area. Predators ran rampant through these mountains, and the few bands of people living here would not balk at theft or kidnapping. It might even be reasonable to assume that any bandit would consider Etienne the easiest target, as he slept alone and without weapons, but there had been no sounds of a struggle the night before. And bears did not typically make off with tents.
The only other option Delyth could think of was that Etienne had left of his own accord, though she shuddered at what that might do to Alphonse. If he had, he couldn’t have much of a head start. She’d find him and drag him back if necessary.
❀
Alphonse couldn’t settle.
She paced the clearing, looking at Etienne’s empty camping spot repeatedly. Then the road. Then the sky, hoping Delyth would come back with Etienne in tow.
If she had been better at summoning spells, if she knew how to scry… But she’d never even been taught those types of magic. Besides, she didn’t have anything of his to fixate on. How would she find him?!
Was he hurt?
She didn’t see a sign of a struggle. No blood, no drag marks in the dirt.Wringing her hands together, Alphonse worried and worried and worried. Breakfast was long forgotten.
What could have taken him? Why?! Why hadn’t she woken? Heard him crying out for help?
Had she been so fast asleep?
Had Enyo woken and chosen not to help?
Had some other mage come along and— and overcome Etienne? It felt unlikely. She chewed on the
