Page 103 of Children of Fallen Gods

I told him of the battles, and how I won. I told him of Eslyn, and what Sammerin and I had done to buy time for the slaves that my own actions had endangered. I told him of every feat, and every fear. I told him everything.

And for his part, he did the same. I listened as he told me of the battle in Antedale, and those that followed. I had heard all the stories here, of course, when they were spoken of in terms of victory and strategy and numbers. But rendered in Max’s voice, the wins and losses weren’t matters of statistics. They were human.

I loved that about him. I loved it, and gods, I had missed it.

We talked for hours, so long that we didn’t even notice that the water had gone tepid by the time we trailed off into silence. When we finally decided it was time to end our bath, I stayed behind for a few minutes to wring out my wet hair. Then I went to the washroom door and leaned against the frame, watching him.

He was standing at the window, hands tucked into the pockets of the pants he’d thrown back on, profile outlined in the waning light. The view overlooked the Farlione estate and the mountains beyond it. Max’s face was tilted to the east — towards the house.

“It is beautiful,” I said.

“Hm?”

“Korvius. Korvius is beautiful.”

A shadow passed over his expression.

“It is,” he said.

I crossed the room and stood beside him, taking in the view.

“I know it’s hard for you to be here,” I murmured. “But I’ve liked seeing the place that raised you. While you were gone, it was like I could find pieces of you here.”

“I don’t know if I like the parts of me that were left in this house.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder. I couldn’t help drawing in a long breath, taking in his scent. Ash and lilacs. And a little hint, I had realized, that was from here, from this place, as if it was in his blood.

“Not the house. The city. The scenery. The flower gardens at the edge of the grounds. The trinkets in the libraries. There’s a bookstore in town that made me think of you. The owner is very unfriendly. He snaps at you if you even say a single word.” I gave him a coy smirk. “It seemed like the sort of place you would enjoy.”

His eyebrows lurched a little, a distant smile curling his lips. “Mathilda’s.”

“Yes. That was it.”

I was satisfied that my instincts were right. Iknewhim. He reached out and brushed the small of my back, as if this was satisfying to him, too.

But his smile faded quickly. I watched him fall into serious thought.

“Is it just as difficult?” I murmured. “To be here, again?”

“I’ve never been able to face this place.” He swallowed. “When the Syrizen brought us here, that was the first time I had looked at those gates since… Well. All of it. Brayan tried to find me, for a few years. Tried to get me to come back, but I just couldn’t.”

Brayan. Max’s older brother, and the only other remaining Farlione. The only one who had not been present that day. I rarely asked about him. I knew it was a particular sore spot, for many reasons.

“Do you ever think about finding him now?” I asked, quietly.

“No.” He said it fast, like it was a ridiculous thought. “No. I don’t even know where he is. As far as I know he hasn’t been back to Ara in years. And… he doesn’t know the truth, of what happened that day. He was fed the same story as everyone else. I can’t look him in the eye knowing what I know, because if I were him…” A muscle feathered in his jaw. He still stared out at the landscape. “Like I said, there are a lot of things I haven’t been able to face.”

I squeezed his arm. It was a long moment later when Max spoke, and said something that I was not at all expecting.

“Would you come with me to see the house?” His eyes slid to me — a little wide, as if he had surprised himself, too.

My brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

A pause, like he himself wasn’t sure. “I need to,” he said, at last. “It’s loomed in my memory for so long. I need to…”

His voice trailed off, but he didn’t have to continue.

“Of course,” I murmured, and reached for my clothes.

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