Sisters Three (Completed)

21. Adair (2/2)

The reindeer, not spurred any longer, continued to slow until they were nearly walking. Adair kept Silver close, kissing the top of his head hoping that he'd feel the comfort she wanted so badly to impart to him. He waited a few moments before breaking free of her, his eyes averted to one side.

"We should head back," he muttered.

Never before had he wanted to go back before he had to.

"It's fine," she said. "We can stop here and you can have a bit of a walk about before we need to go back."

"I'd feel better if we went now. I need to check on the scrying bowl," he said. "There've been more scouting parties trying to breech the borders and it makes me nervous when I can't keep an eye on them."

Adair sighed. "I've set all my wolves along the border, and I make sure to douse it with a good snow fall every so often. They'd be fools to try and get into the North."

"Yet they do it all the same," Silver said.

"What would you do to stop them, then? You're merely looking at them through a bowl of magic water."

"I could have advanced warning if they managed to get in, and I could always alert you," he replied.

Adair reached for his arm but he jerked away almost automatically. His hands fidgeted in his lap when he realized what he'd done, and he leaned forward a little for her to touch him if she wanted. She didn't any longer. Her lips flattened and she snapped the reins. The reindeer lurched forward, picking up speed before taking a long arc to turn around.

On the way back they were silent. They passed by the creations that Adair had made for Silver, and as they did she raised one hand and released the magic holding them together without even glancing at them. She saw Silver watching the snow collapse out of the corner of her eye. His eyes held something so deep and shadowy that Adair's heart suddenly ached. She turned to him, her anger still fresh but her voice soft.

"Do you regret following me here to the North, Silver?" she asked. It was something she'd always wanted to ask him, but she'd always been terrified of what he might say. Her shadow, her second half. If he regretted her, she couldn't think of how she'd live.

"No," Silver replied, his eyes trained on a spot far off on the horizon. Adair only saw a sliver of his face and the back of his curly hair. His voice was monotonous. "I don't regret loving you."