supposed it was the chilled water that had done the trick. She would grow to appreciate his mercy when he chose to bestow it. When he did let her lie on the floor to sleep, she would be grateful, remembering the long, painful nights when she stood.
Tadraem left Aiden. Alone, he stood in the street for some time just staring at the ground. He knelt down to trace the letters with his finger. The stone was cold, jaggedly carved, each stroke of the instrument wrought with great effort. It looked like a child had written it, but there were no children in the outer courts. Only adults had been brought back to Eidolon, the children from the various regions were raised in captivity for servitude. No, definitely not by a child — if this word had been written by a human, it would have been an adult. He rose to his feet, and looked around.
Droves of humans walked past him. There was no need to separate males from females; they couldn't act upon any feelings or instincts they might have harbored otherwise. They were randomly placed alongside one another, except for the breeders, who resided in an entirely different part of the outer courts. There was a section close to the dividing wall where each breeder was granted his or her own quarters. It really wasn't for the human, but for the Ereubinian whom the human was married to.
Tadraem was right, he'd never stepped foot inside of the small house that had been set aside for Sara. It would have looked like all of the others to him, except that his name was etched onto the doorway.
He had started back toward the castle when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He pivoted to see what was behind him.
Nothing.
He surveyed the humans who brushed past him. Not a thing out of the ordinary. Aiden, feeling his temper flare, changed directions and walked further into the outer courts. Like a fish swimming upstream, he waded through the hundreds of humans going in the opposite direction. He pushed some of them aside, one or two falling as he began to pick up speed. Something was coming over him. He could feel it in every muscle — a prickly thing, piercing him in a thousand places all at once. Once he neared the edge, he slowed, then stopped next to the gates of the city. He stood there, his hands on his hips. His breath had started to come in halted pants and he cried out in frustration, running one hand through his hair. Again, he felt a chill race up his back. He turned, looking all around him. With wild eyes, he scanned the multitude of blank faces, searching for anything to explain what was raging in his head.
It was as if time slowed and the crowd parted to reveal, for just a hair's breadth of a second, a face. The stare that met Aiden's was enough to cool his blood permanently. The distinct jaw line and dark, knowing eyes had haunted him many times before, but not like this. Not in the light of day. Not outside of his conscious thoughts.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Duncan trudged through the snow-laden woods, his mind alive with memories that he'd long buried. It was dark, and the sounds from the feast inside the castle echoed among the trees. He kept his head down as he continued on into the forest.
When he'd first returned to Adoria, he'd walked this particular route countless times. He could trace every step blindfolded. Every rock and root had become familiar. It was all he could do to keep from thinking of what he'd left behind. It had been difficult not to return to Palingard once Gabriel was dead. He could still remember the first few months he spent in Ruiari, mourning the loss of his friend. He'd never been married, and had never expected to fall in love.
He met her daughter first. Lilly was a very bright, outgoing child, full of life and imagination. She reminded him just a little of Ariana, with perhaps a tad more restraint. He was in the marketplace when he discovered her following him. He dodged in and out of several tents, just to make sure that she was indeed on his heels, and not just coincidently taking the same path. He finally felt her eyes right on him, and twirled to catch her. She was still a girl at the time, not quite eleven years old. She stopped, openly surprised at his speed, and started giggling.
'What is it that you find so fascinating about me?' he asked, bending down to see her better. Her eyes were a deep brown with little flecks of gold.
'You have something in your pack that's moving,' she said it as though he were ridiculous for not having noticed it himself.
He looked at her, wondering if she were trying to fool him, before he remembered that he'd indeed taken his furry friend along. He smiled and pulled his satchel around to undo the clasp. A small, black- and brown-striped head poked its way through the hole in the opening. Her eyes lit up as Duncan pulled the ferret from the bag and held him out for her to hold.
'Will he bite?'
'Only sour little girls, but you don't look sour to me.'
She laughed and took the ferret with both hands, cradling him to her neck. 'He's so soft. What's his name?'
Duncan thought about it for a moment. He hadn't named him, but the look in her eyes promised him utter disappointment if he didn't come up with one.
'Why don't you ask him?' He thought he would buy himself some time. He watched as the little girl leaned her ear down to the tiny cold nose and jerked her head up seconds later, a great revelation on her lips.
'Spoon!'
He laughed. 'What?' He shook his head, not entirely certain that he'd heard her right.
'He said his name is Spoon.' She shook her head. 'What a silly thing to name a weasel.' She then turned to address the ferret. 'He should never have picked such a funny name.'
'Well, I suppose you will just have to give him a new name,' Duncan laughed.
She stopped stroking his fur and turned a serious glance toward Duncan. 'Oh no. He says that he likes his name very much. I couldn't take it from him.'
'Alright then,' Duncan sighed, wondering how he'd become such a soft-hearted fool. 'I do have a favor to ask of you. Do you think you could do something for me?'
She nodded.
'Spoon doesn't really have a home, and I think he would very much like to go home with you. You see I've been looking for a little girl, just like you, to keep him for me. Do you think you could do that?'
'Yes, I could. I would take very good care of him!'
Duncan patted the ferret on the top of the head. He would kind of miss him, having found him well over a year ago, but she took to him so well, that he didn't have the heart to keep such a thing for himself, not being a grown Adorian. 'Run along then and introduce Spoon to his new home.'
She smiled and threw one arm around him in a quick hug before running off back into the crowded market.
It was later that same day, well into the evening, that her very displeased mother found him and conveyed her disapproval for her involuntary adoption of the creature. He'd swung his door open with the idea that maybe the girl's father had come to find him, to question why Duncan had felt it necessary to give his daughter anything at all, let alone something living. But instead of the tall, dark-headed man he'd imagined, there stood a woman with one hand on her hip, the other holding out the ferret, who was struggling for solid ground. She was so perfect. Her smile had a slight crook to it, leaning down a little more on the left than the right, and her skin was like that of a child's doll. She opened her mouth to speak, but stuttered her words at first. She'd expected some strange, shady character to open the door.
'I meant no harm, my lady, and I'm sincerely sorry if I've caused you any trouble.' He hadn't meant to greet her that way, 'lady' wasn't a common term in the villages, but she'd struck him as having the regal nature of the Adorian women whom he'd grown accustomed to addressing upon his visits home. Aside from her clothing, there was nothing that could connect her to Middengard for him.
She smiled. 'I just wanted to make sure that this wasn't a beloved pet that my daughter has somehow convinced you that she can't live without. She has a way of doing that.'
