Page 77 of Storm of Blood and Shadow

The windows look out on a dingy alley, and at this time of day, not much light filters down to ground level—but there’s a faint evening glow, and the heat of the afternoon sun lingers in the air of the room.

Ethalie’s mother-in-law Scarla is in the kitchen area, scrubbing a pot. I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen her do such a thing.

She looks different. A little thinner, perhaps, but the biggest difference is the energy I perceive in the lines of her body—the posture of a woman with purpose.

“Back already, Lark?” she says, turning around.

We stare at each other.

“Well, fuck me,” she says slowly. “Thought you were dead.”

“I was taken by a dragon.”

“So we heard. One of the neighbors saw it happen.”

I survey the room, noting that despite its shabbiness, it’s tidy and reasonably clean. It’s been kept up the way I like it—except I haven’t been here to ensure it stays that way.

“What happened?” I ask her. “Where is everyone else?”

Scarla turns back to the sink and continues scrubbing the pot. “Lark is on an errand. Miri is napping. Ethalie is at work.”

“Work?” I exclaim. “What kind of work? And where are Loram and Bryon?”

“Gone.”

“Gone? Gone how?”

“Gone, like,gone,” she says. “They went out looting the day of the invasion. Made Lark go along with them to this rich prick’s house, because they’d heard his lordship had fled and left plenty of booze and valuable goods behind. Turns out he was hiding in a back room with an explosive he’d rigged up. I guess he planned to take out any Vohrainians who came into his house. Instead he blew up himself and Bryon.”

A chill bursts over my skin. I can’t move, can’t fully process what she’s saying.

Scarla makes a raw sound in her throat and sniffs. “Loram pushed Lark out of the way, covered him with his own body. Best thing my useless son ever did, saving that boy. Lark draggedLoram out and pushed him back here in a wheelbarrow, but he was pretty far gone. Died the next day.”

Lark dragged him back here… My mind conjures the image of ten-year-old Lark trundling his injured father through the danger-riddled streets of the city during an enemy invasion.

“Is he alright?” I say faintly. “Lark… is he… He must be so…”

“He’s a tough kid, my grandson. Tougher than all of us.” Scarla gives me a brusque nod. “He’ll be alright. The coin he brought back that day saw us through. That, and the goods from that garden on the roof. And Ethalie’s pay.”

“Her pay?” I echo vaguely.

“She started working for one of Vohrain’s factories, but she’s got another job at a local inn now. Nothing fancy, but it’s work she can do. I’ve been minding the place and the children. There’s talk of schools being opened again. I’m thinking they should go.”

I drag a chair away from the table and sink limply onto it. Half-dazed, I reach into my bag and take out the coins I’ve kept safe, along with the necklaces Varex gave me. I spread the treasure on the table.

Scarla eyes it appraisingly. “Did well for yourself among the dragons, did you?”

“Better than I expected.”

She gives a snort of gruff admiration and sets the clean pot on the wooden counter.

A tsunami of emotion swells inside me, too much to manage at once. The one I’m most familiar with, anger, rises to the top.

“Tell me something, Scarla,” I say, low. “Why now? Why start doing your partnow? Not that I’m complaining but… maybe I am. After years of letting me carry all of you… why now?”

She sighs, wiping thick red hands on the apron she’s wearing. “Because you were gone. And then Bryon and Loramwere gone. Everything was gone. I had two choices—end it, or grow a pair. And Ethalie couldn’t survive alone with those kids, so...” She shrugs.

It’s all the explanation I’m likely to get from her, though I know the truth goes deeper. She’d been living in a haze, occupying herself with liquor and food, spending her evenings gambling and guffawing with her son and Bryon, then drinking herself to sleep only to do it all over again. Their death and my disappearance was a forced awakening, a boulder catapulted into the center of her world, smashing everything she relied upon. And in the aftermath of the grief and destruction, she chose toget up, and to live. Not for her own sake, but for the sake of her daughter-in-law and her grandchildren.

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