The Amulet Of Nicmir (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 1)

Chapter 60

It took three solid days for Lillian to stop avoiding Nyle. Three days in which he died a little every time she shot him a single poisonous look at dinner before ignoring him the rest of it, and left the room whenever he entered. It hurt. Badly. He missed her smile, her jokes, her company. Her friendship. Her good graces. Everything.

The nightmares were worse, too. Full of shadows, wrought in pain. He'd wake up alone in a cold sweat, trembling and fighting to breathe. It'd take him ten minutes of fingers anchored in his hair and telling himself it wasn't real to calm down enough to think straight again. Then he'd lay back, pull his blankets over his shoulders, and hope that Lillian felt reasonable in the morning.

It was the message that really started things off. Ibadan had sent a messenger on foot. The army was preparing. It was time to go.

Packing was easy enough. Paleo provided an alpaca for what they couldn't carry, and Chad assured them that he'd be fine walking. Nyle wasn't so sure, but he had his own problems to deal with. Like the dark-haired girl strapping down the supplies on the alpaca's fuzzy back.

His approach was slow, his heart setting a rhythm he knew couldn't be healthy. The frigid, snow-sprinkled air drifting through a hole in the ceiling wasn't the only thing making him tremble, but he managed to walk over and busy his shaking fingers checking over her work. It was solid as ever--she'd always been better at knots than he had--but that and the barn-ish smell of the animal provided the distraction he needed to gather the courage to speak.

"Hey," he said, his voice small. She still wouldn't look at him, bending over to secure the saddle under the animal's belly, her hair falling over her face so he couldn't see anything of her expression except the hard set of her jaw. Nyle sighed through his teeth, yanking harder on a strap than he should've. The alpaca snorted, shifting its legs. "Lil, it's been nigh three days. You know we need to talk about it."

"Talk about what?"

Gods, he'd missed her voice. Even if it was loaded like a drawn bow with bridled anger.

"You know what," Nyle retorted, abandoning the strap to face her. Sam, across the high-ceilinged room, shot him a questioning look as he helped Chad don a backpack and tighten the straps to fit his bony shoulders. Nyle ignored them both, watching Lillian as she straightened up and buried her fingers in the alpaca's woolly mane. "The book. My tattoo."

"How long've you known?" Her tone was blank, her words an attempt at disinterest. He saw right through it. She was scared.

"Since Etniria." Glancing back at Sam and Chad, Nyle made sure they weren't listening and ran a hand through his hair. Chad knew, but Sam...he wasn't ready to tell Sam. Not yet. "Craventi summoned me after I was healed, before I woke up. What he said...it scared me." Huffing a breath, Nyle rubbed his face. "It still scares me. I don't know what to do."

Lillian's brows tilted inward as she twisted the wool, but her gaze still didn't find him, and it drove him crazy. Grabbing her shoulders, he turned her to look at him. Her eyes were unreadable, her expression a startling conflict of lingering wrath and the desire to help him. "I don't know what to do, Lillian." His voice was almost pleading. He shook her once, gently. "Please, please talk to me."

The way her walls crumpled was almost physical. Her eyes shone with tears, but he could tell she was angry again by the tilt of her mouth and the tightness of her jaw. Shrugging his hands off, she stabbed a finger into his chest and leaned in close. "You should've talked to me. The second you knew." Her voice was a shaking whisper, so laden with trapped emotion that it choked him up. "You think you're the only one scared by this? You've got a target painted on your back, Nyle. Those Serpentine Chad killed? That's how desperate Agnir is to get rid of you. And I can't stand to lose anybody else I love."