Teri McLaren
in his vision, crooked at the first joint. They were a little pale from the cold floor, and he almost put his hand over hers to warm them.
Just then the fire flickered and Maceo's ring gleamed brightly on her third finger, a constant reminder to Cheyne that Claria's heart still belonged to another. One who had betrayed her, no less. He shut his eyes against the thought of it. Claria shifted in her sleep and burrowed back under her covers, and he inched back to his own bed, his mind and heart completely at odds. He didn't know exactly when he had started to love the girl.
Only that he would somehow have to stop.
He rolled over on his pallet and tried to think about anything else. In the morning, Wiggulf would lead them through the winding paths of his watery kingdom to the curtain of light at the edge of the elves' sanctuary. At least then he would discover his name. And wasn't that why he'd come all this way?
Claria opened her eyes at his sharp motion, but did not move. For an hour or more, she had pretended to sleep, unable to calm her mind. Since the long walk in the forest to the lodge, all she could think about was the strange exhilaration and brightness she felt. It seemed the farther she went from Sumifa, the more free she was. Every sense seemed sharpened out here, and her skin had grown dark with the sun. Gone were the headaches she constantly fought in the city, the malaise of the dusty streets and dry days. The journey thus far had been the most arduous thing she had ever experienced, but she was thriving.
What if Maceo could see me now? What would he think? she wondered. Claria realized that she wasn't even mad at him anymore and didn't care that he preferred the Schreefa. Her time with Maceo seemed like a distant memory after the last few days. The heavy gold band felt like a shackle on her finger. She just wanted to return the ring and be done with him. He, after all, was certainly done with her.