Page 140 of The Ranger
“What more is there?” Vale asked as Markhel’s singing softened.
Kwaku took on a somber look. “Part of his soul.”
“How is that even possible,” Vale asked. “And why would he do such a thing?”
Kwaku smiled. “So she will have control of him, whenever the need calls for it.”
Zara nodded in understanding and turned to Makama and Vale. “One is the weapon, the other the wielder. But in this case, once joined, they will be able to wield each other.”
28
Maida’s eyes fluttered open. She looked around her room, saw Markhel sitting on the floor by the door and smiled. “How long have you been there?”
“A few hours.” He climbed to his feet. “Are you hungry?”
She pushed herself up and looked around the room. “I don’t remember falling asleep.”
He smiled. “It is nothing to worry about. Would you like me to bring you some food?”
“Yes, thank you.” She shoved back the quilt someone had placed over her. “Who brought me here?”
He turned as he was heading out the door. “I did.”
“You... carried me?”
“I did not drag you.”
She giggled at his joke. Or was he joking? He took things literally sometimes. “Will you tell me what happened?”
“You do not remember?”
She yawned. “I remember you holding me.”
He smiled. “I did.”
He scanned the hall. “Would you like to come downstairs to eat?”
A chill went up her spine. If he was holding her then… “Did anyone see us?”
He drew in a breath. “Yes. Everyone.”
Her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, Markhel, then they won’t let us...” she stopped. “Why are you still here?” She left the bed, slipped past him and surveyed the hall. “We’re alone?” She turned to him in shock. “But my family saw us!” She put a hand to her forehead. “They saw us holding each other?!”
“Yes.” He put his hands on her arms and rubbed them.
She grew warmer and part of her relaxed. But of course, she did. His touch was oh, so nice. “Then why are we alone?”
He closed his eyes and for a moment and looked like he was praying. When he opened them, his expression was hopeful. “Because it is too late for them to stop what is happening to us.”
Her breathing stopped, as if that was going to prevent her from asking the obvious. “And what is that?”
He steered her to the bed and sat her down with him. “Maida,” he began and looked her in the eyes.
She started to relax again, as if his presence willed it. “Yes?”
“I am Muiraran. I am not like you.”
Something between a laugh and a cry slipped out. “No, you’re not. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.”