Elf Defence (Adventures in Aguillon #2) - Lisa Henry Page 0,74

emotion at seeing his sister sworn in. Benji certainly hoped that’s all it was, anyway.

He nodded at Calarian and they slipped away quietly. They tried their rooms first, but there was no sign of Lars. “Well, he’s not here. Where else would he be?”

Calarian’s brow creased. “Maybe the stables? Seeing his girls?”

That made a certain kind of sense. Lars often liked to spend an hour in the evenings with his cows, getting them settled.

They hurried down the staircase and made their way across the courtyard towards the stables, moonlight gleaming off the cobblestones and wisps of breeze dancing across Benji's face. He paused, just for a second, to tilt his head back and breathe, pushing his long hair back from his face so he could feel the crisp alpine air on his skin one last time. Calarian stood next to him, eyes closed, also breathing deeply. His hand crept into Benji’s and he gave a tiny squeeze.

Calarian’s eyes snapped abruptly open, and he put up a hand for silence when Benji opened his mouth to ask him what was wrong. He put a finger to his lips and led Benji stealthily across the yard to the doorway of the stables, and as they got closer, Benji heard it too.

Muffled sobbing, of the sort that uniquely belonged to very big men having very big emotions and trying to hold them at bay by means of a meaty fist stuffed in their mouth. It was a very distinctive sound.

Benji and Calarian peered warily around the doorframe of the stable.

Lars stood at one of the first stalls, cradling Maisy’s heavy head against his shoulder with one hand, while he tried to muffle his hitching sobs with his other hand. “I-I’ll try to come back and visit. I wish I could take you with me, but the city’s no place for a cow like you. I’m not even sure it’s a place for a cowherd like me.” He wiped his nose on his sleeve. “You’re my best friend, Maisy. Don’t you go getting stuck in any more caves when I’m gone, you hear?”

His watery smile dissolved into hiccupping sobs.

Benji stepped forward to move inside the stables, but Calarian shook his head and tugged him back by the wrist.

They left Lars to say farewell to Maisy in the privacy he clearly wanted.

Suddenly the pub crawl seemed a lot less appealing, and after exchanging a glance they went back to their rooms. Sitting against the wall just inside the door was Lars’s small suitcase. It held everything he planned to bring to Callier and his new life, and his little feather hat sat perched on top. Next to it rested Benji’s own rucksack, a stark reminder that this was their last night here, and after tomorrow Benji’s future would hold no more gingerbread, no more demigod blacksmiths, and no more cowbells.

Benji consoled himself with the thought that it would also hold zero creepy nuns, wild geese, or political debates with Jakob that Benji kept losing—all things that Benji had thought he’d be glad to see the back of, but that he was now forced to admit he quite liked. His future did hold Lars and Calarian though, he reminded himself, and that would have to be enough.

Asking for more was just wishful thinking.

He caught Calarian looking at his own rucksack with an expression that was something like regret on his face, and Benji knew that look. Calarian was going to suggest they do something stupid and noble like leaving Lars behind, and Benji couldn’t.

“Just...don’t,” he said, before Calarian even opened his mouth. He knew it was selfish, but he didn’t care. Lars was theirs, and he'd agreed to come to Callier so they could stay together, and if Lars wasn’t all that happy about it, well, it was his turn to compromise, that was all. That's how relationships worked, right? “Listen, if he didn’t want to come to Callier, he should have said so. But he agreed. He’s a big boy, he’ll adjust,” Benji said, with more conviction than he felt.

Sometimes life was hard. Look at Benji. He’d gotten kicked out of the collective and he’d had to go it alone. He’d managed perfectly well and had carved out a life for himself. Alone and in a swamp, and it wasn’t like Lars would have to live in a charcoal house on a swamp-weed diet, was it? No, he’d get to live in a city, with Benji and Calarian there to look after him. They loved