A Hand Weaving Chaos (Book 2 of The Fallen Gods Trilogy)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

I'm like a hormone-crazed teenager.

           It was ridiculous, really. All he had to do was touch her, and suddenly her breath was catching in her throat and her legs could barely support her. All she could think about was the other night, and him, and how his hands touched her. Even something so simple as him holding his arm out to her left her melting inside.

            She shook her head in resignation. I'm a mess. He's turned me into a needy, emotional mess.

            He took her outside. The sun had nearly set and the sky faded from pink to darker purple and gradually to black. Stars had begun to appear and wink down at them in the cloudless sky. Though most of the day's snow had melted, it was still cold outside. It made her glad for her extra clothing. Still, it didn't take away the crisp beauty. Also, there was Brexten's warmth and she allowed herself to huddle closer. The leather of his jacket was soft and supple so she tucked her hands in between his arm and his body.

            "Cold?" he asked, his breath a fine mist when he spoke. "It doesn't usually snow this early in the season. We can go inside if you're uncomfortable."

            "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."

            Silence descended as they walked further out into the trees. The wood grew dense and seemed to insulate them from Chareen. The fresh smell of pine drifted in. Jill found the scent comforting and thought—inexplicably—of the forest she had bought back in her own world. What had happened to it during her time in Dolmar?

            "You look tired."

            "It's been a hectic day. Also, I woke up very early this morning."

            A faint smiled touched his lips. "As did I. No doubt we both could have done with more time in bed today."

            She glanced down quickly, finding her heart thudding in her chest and her cheeks heating at the thought of more time in bed with Brexten.

            "I'm sorry I was so rotten to you this afternoon. I never meant to be. I was angry with Rafe and I took it out on you. It's been a frustrating day."

            "I know. I'm not always at my best when I spend the better part of the day convincing everyone I'm not insane and explaining why they need to prepare for a war no one believes will happen."

            "They don't believe Tamas has to be stopped?" Jill asked, incredulous.

            "Not all, but some, yes. They can't fathom what Tamas is really capable of. I don't even know what he wants. War, certainly. The destruction of Dolmar, yes. Beyond that, I can only guess. But, with what's happened to you...I know you said you and Arianie are connected, yet I never expected what I saw today. If you have that link to Arianie, it makes me wonder if I have a similar one with Kydel. And now you've said Kachine wants to have Perren's child, and then there are these dreams of the dagger...Gods, something is happening—something that involves Tamas, you, this world, and the gods themselves. I just don't know if I can make us ready enough for whatever that something might be."

            "I had the second part of the dream this afternoon," Jill confessed. "Astera's dream."

            A pause. "Do you want to talk about it?"

            Jill shuddered at the thought. "No." Then, "It was... Astera was a very strong woman to have endured dreaming that same dream for so long."

            "But you'll have to live it."

            Jill said nothing, just continued walking. She felt Brexten's hand take one of hers and squeeze gently. Afraid she might cry if he continued, she jerked her hand away and stuffed both forcefully in her pockets. "Will the priestesses be going to Orestria?" she asked abruptly.