He forced aside the idea that he also wanted to see Azriel one last time.
Afternoon turned into evening, and he and Agnes were warming themselves by the fire when Azriel returned to the covered bridge. Galen’s pulse beat erratically upon seeing him again, and he told himself it was because he was so lovely to gaze at, especially when watching him do his work.
“Agnes, this is my friend, Azriel.”
Azriel spoke to her, asking questions about her health, and from what Galen overheard, her chest had been aching from her coughing fits. She’d been even more miserable than Galen had thought, and he felt guilty for not doing more. It was sheer luck that Azriel had found him, and he probably wouldn’t have come at all had Galen not run from the man in the alleyway.
So perhaps fate intervened in the most unlikely of times.
Or maybe sometimes it rewarded you with the very thing you wished for in the deepest part of your soul…
He chastised himself—it would not do him any favors to entertain such lofty thoughts.
“If the medicine works, your cough should be better by morning.” Azriel retrieved a decanter from his coat pocket and offered it to Agnes, who drank the contents down.
Azriel stayed a little while longer, sharing the cheese and bread he’d brought with him, before needing to depart again. “I will return to check on you.”
Galen struggled with sleep the entire night, worrying about any number of things. But he’d made up his mind to leave as soon as Agnes was better, to take advantage of the clearing weather. It would be unwise to delay.
He drifted off eventually, and when he woke up, immediately knew that Agnes was almost back to her old self again. She was humming under her breath, something she hadn’t done since his return. And the little coughing she did sounded less awful and persistent.
Azriel agreed with Galen’s assessment upon his arrival that morning. “I’m so glad to see you’re better.”
He’d brought more biscuits and another bottle of elixir for her to take that evening.
“Thank you,” Galen said to Azriel. “I’m not sure how I can ever repay you. I have nothing to offer.”
“Madam Langley feels that you do.” Azriel could not meet his eyes, but his cheeks had dotted pink. “She would like you to return with me in order to set the terms.”
“I…I don’t know what to think,” Galen replied, though he knew full well what Azriel was suggesting. Madam Langley was providing him a safe respite while still appealing to his sense of pride. She knew he’d want to compensate them for their help with Agnes, and this was a way to do that. Besides, who knew what fate awaited Galen in the next town?
“Unless you feel you might fare better elsewhere,” Azriel said, eyeing Galen’s packed bag. His aura pulsed with a mix of blues and greens resembling the kaleidoscope of colors glinting off the crystals in the apothecary. “But if the rumors of an illness are true, you might be safer with us.”
Galen knew they were more or less speaking in riddles, but his heart was currently lodged in his throat and he didn’t think he could make a decision right then.
“Your path will always be one of your choosing,” Azriel said, and when their eyes met, Galen felt exposed, like Azriel could see all his fears and vulnerabilities, all his hopes and dreams. “The rumors in town would also grow quiet.”
“Azriel, I…” He could scarcely believe he was so close to agreeing. Still, he nearly balked before firmly swallowing his pride. “I suppose we should be on our way, then, before the weather turns.”
Azriel’s smile was as radiant as the edges of his aura, which had changed to a sunny yellow. And if Galen peered closely enough, he could also see that thin line of magenta.
Chapter 15
“I’m glad to see you’re well,” Madam Langley said upon his return. “You will be safe here with us.”
“Thank you.” He believed he would, at least temporarily. She’d known Galen wouldn’t have returned on his own, nor begged to live there for longer, and he was ashamed that he’d allowed his defensiveness in the name of self-preservation to get in the way. Again.
But the truth was, the safe haven of Moon Flower could not last forever. All it would take was the deviousness of one man, or even an innocent slip of the tongue, for the careful selection process and secrecy to unravel. Galen had even noted the slight shift in Madam Langley’s aura. Like an impending sense of doom. But the cause of the worry remained a mystery. He was not a mind reader, after all. Was it the constable? The rumors of a new illness? Only time would tell. For now, he would accept the reprieve and allow himself to finally breathe.