Morgawr by Terry Brooks

But his pride would not let him accept that he was powerless to do anything. Even if his luck was gone, even if he himself was doomed because of it, he would find a way to help the others. It was the charge he must give himself, that so long as he breathed, he must get those he captained, those eleven men and women who were left, safely home again. Saving just those few would give him some measure of peace. That one of them was his sister and another the boy she loved made his commitment even more necessary. That all of them were his friends and shipmates made it imperative.

He was still thinking about this when he sensed a presence at his elbow and glanced over to find Bek Ohmsford standing next to him. He was so surprised to see Bek, perhaps because he had just been thinking of him, that for a moment he didn’t speak.

“It won’t come out of there,” Bek said, nodding in the direction of the castle. His young face bore a serious cast, as if his thoughts were taking him to dark and complex places. “You don’t have to worry.”

Alt Mer followed his gaze to the ruins. “How do you know that?”

“Because it didn’t come after me when I stole the key the last time we were here. Not past the castle walls, not outside the ruins.” He paused. “I don’t think it can go outside. It can chase you that far, but no farther. It can’t reach beyond.”

The Rover Captain thought about it for a moment. “It didn’t bother us when we were searching the ruins, did it? It just used its magic to turn us down blind alleys and blank walls so that we couldn’t find anything.”

Bek nodded. “I don’t think it will bother us if we stay out here. Even if we go in, it probably won’t interfere if we don’t try to take anything.”

They stood shoulder to shoulder for a few moments, staring out into the darkness, listening to the silence. A dark, winged shape flew across the lighter indigo of the starlit sky, a hunting bird at work. They watched it bank left in a sweeping glide and disappear into the impenetrable black of the trees.

“What are you doing out here?” Alt Mer asked him. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

He almost asked why he wasn’t with Rue, but Bek hadn’t chosen to talk about it, and Alt Mer didn’t think it was up to him to broach the subject.

Bek shook his head, running his hand through his shaggy hair. “I couldn’t sleep. I was dreaming about Grianne, and it woke me. I think the dream was telling me something important, but I can’t remember what. It bothered me enough that I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I came up here.”

Alt Mer shifted his feet restlessly. “You still can’t reach her, can you? Little Red can’t either. Never thought she’d even try, but she goes down there every day and sits with her.”

Bek didn’t say anything, so Alt Mer let the matter drop. He was growing tired, wishing suddenly that he hadn’t been so quick to send Kian off to sleep.

“Are you upset with me about Rue?” Bek asked suddenly.

Alt Mer stared at him in surprise. “Don’t you think it’s a little late to be asking me that?”

Bek nodded solemnly, not looking back. “I don’t want you to be angry. It’s important to both of us that you aren’t.”

“Little Red quit asking my permission to do anything a long time ago,” Alt Mer said quietly. “It’s her life, not mine. I don’t tell her how to lead it.”

“Does that mean it’s all right?”

“It means . . .” He paused, confused. “I don’t know what it means. It means I don’t know. I guess I worry about what’s going to happen when you get back home and have to make a choice about your lives. You’re different people,—you don’t have the same background or life experience.”

Bek thought about it. “Maybe we don’t have to live our old lives. Maybe we can live new ones.”