Morgawr by Terry Brooks

“That was unexpected,” she said.

He couldn’t speak.

“I want to do it some more. I want to do it a lot.”

He grinned in spite of himself, in spite of everything. “Me, too.”

“Soon, Bek.”

“All right.”

“I think I love you,” she said. She laughed again. “There, I said it. What do you think of that?”

She reached out with her good arm and touched his lips with her fingers, then turned and walked away.

When he went inside the ship to the Captain’s quarters to see about Quentin, he was still in shock from his encounter with Rue.

Panax must have seen something in his face when Bek entered the room, because he immediately asked, “Are you all right?”

Bek nodded. He was not all right, but he had no intention of talking about it just yet. It was too new to share, still so strange in his own mind that he needed time to get used to it. He needed time just to accept that it was true. Rue Meridian was in love with him. That’s what she had said. I think I love you. He tried the words out in his mind, and they sounded so ridiculous that he almost laughed aloud.

On the other hand, the way she had kissed him was real enough, and he wasn’t going to forget how that felt anytime soon.

Did he love her in turn? He hadn’t stopped to ask himself that. He hadn’t even considered it before now because the idea of her reciprocating had seemed impossible. It was enough that they were friends. But he did love her. He had always loved her in some sense, from the first moment he had seen her. Now, kissed and held and told of her feelings, he loved her so desperately he could hardly stand it.

He forced himself to shift his thinking away from her.

“How is he doing?” he asked, nodding toward Quentin.

Panax shrugged. “The same. He just sleeps. I don’t like the way he looks, though.”

Neither did Bek. Quentin’s skin was an unhealthy pasty color. His pulse was faint and his breathing labored and shallow. He was dying by inches, and there was nothing any of them could do about it but wait for the inevitable. Already emotionally overwrought, Bek found himself beginning to cry anew and he turned away self-consciously.

Panax rose and came over to him. He put one rough hand on Bek’s shoulder and gently squeezed. “First Truls Rohk and now the Highlander. This hasn’t been easy,” he said. “Has it.”

“No.”

His hand dropped away, and he walked over to where Grianne knelt on a pallet in the corner, eyes open as she stared straight ahead. The Dwarf shook his head in puzzlement. “What do you suppose she’s thinking?”

Bek wiped away the last of his tears. “Nothing we want to know about, I’d guess.”

“Probably not. What a mess. This whole journey, from start to finish. A mess.” He didn’t seem to know where else to go with his thoughts, so he went silent for a moment. “I wish I’d never come. I wouldn’t have, if I’d known what it was going to be like.”

“I don’t suppose any of us would.” Bek walked over to his sister and knelt in front of her. He touched her cheek with his fingers as he always did to let her know he was there. “Can you hear me, Grianne?” he asked softly.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here anymore,” Panax continued. “I don’t know that there’s a reason for any of us being here. We haven’t done anything but get ourselves killed and injured. Even the Druid. I didn’t think anything would ever happen to him. But then I didn’t think anything could happen to Truls, either. Now they’re both gone.” He shook his head.

“When I get home,” Bek said, still looking at Grianne’s pale, empty face, “I’ll stay there. I won’t leave again. Not like this.”

He thought again about Rue Meridian. What would happen to her when they got back in the Four Lands? She was a Rover, born to the Rover life, a traveler and an adventurer. She was nothing like him. She wouldn’t want to come back to the Highlands and stay home for the rest of her life. She wouldn’t want anything to do with him then.