Page 72 of Between Despair and Hope

I spared myself from seeing her face break, even though I felt it through the bond. I stopped short when I saw a cloud of dust coming toward us: Thyra on horseback, tearing her way across the field. My heart stopped, and Emma and I stood in silence, watching her. Waiting. I could have made a rift to get to her sooner but didn’t, and I’d never felt like more of a coward.

Finally, I saw Thyra’s mouth move before either of us could possibly hear her.

“She’s awake!”

Chapter 26

Emmeline

“Gograbwhatyouneed—I’ll wait.”

At his words, I stumbled over myself toward Thyra and her horse before remembering I could rift. Between Rainier’s and my own, our emotions were all over the place, crashing and bouncing about, strident. Walking through the rift into my quarters, I grabbed weapons for both Rain and myself, not bothering with my pack, and within moments, I was stumbling back out to the cliff side. The rift was imperfect; I was a hand’s breadth above the ground, so I stumbled, and I nearly fell flat on my face before Rain caught my elbow. When he immediately withdrew his touch, frustration and sorrow coming through the bond, I wiped my expression clean. Rain continued giving orders to Thyra, and I shoved his weapon at him before opening a rift to Nara’s Cove. The bustle of the port was loud compared to the relative quiet we came from, and the frenzy matched the flurry of emotions overwhelming me.

My stomach roiled. I was terrified. What if she wasn’t the same? What if she wasn’t herself? I needed her to be alright. The message from Sterling had said she spoke, so that had to have meant she was her normal self. Right? What if she was angry with me? Gods. I had to tell her about Rain—that he was her father. What if she didn’t want to meet him? I could tell by the look on his face and the feelings coming down the bond, many of our fears were the same. The odds were good that this first meeting wouldn’t go well. But at the same time, I was so thrilled she was awake, I wasn’t sure it mattered. She could rage and scream and cry and hate me—I wouldn’t care. I had my daughter back. I would do whatever I could to keep her.

I chanced a glance over at Rain, noticing his furrowed brow and his fisted hands. I didn’t know what to say to him, what to say which could prepare him for this. I could feel his fear, and there was nothing I could do or say to ease it. Not when the fear clearly extended toward me as well. He created another rift, and we both stepped through without another word, onto a footbridge over a small creek. I immediately went to open another rift, but I struggled to remember the next location in exact detail.

I tried again, frustrated. I wanted to get to her. To get home. She was probably beside herself, wondering where I was. Was she alone? Had Cyran been with her when she woke? Ven or Mairin? When I failed at opening the rift a second time, I started fidgeting. Taking my hair out of its braid and plaiting it once more, tighter, I paced on the bridge, watching Rain below me as he skipped stones on the water, not quite frozen. Though he looked serene and calm, I knew it was a farce. I could feel the tension, sharp down the bond, see it, thick in the hold of his shoulders.

Sighing, I turned away from him and tried once more to open another rift. This time, I was so far, I created a rift back to Nara’s Cove.

“Em.”

“What?” I snapped, instantly regretting it as I turned toward him. I felt—rather than saw—the small tinge of hurt my sharpness caused.

“Rest.” I opened my mouth to argue with him, but he cut me off. “We’ll make the next one together.”

The quiet way he spoke, the care and compassion in his voice, made me soften. I undid my hair, brushing it out once more, and braided it calmly, giving me something to do.

“What should we say to her? What should I—I should talk to her before you come in. Right? ‘You almost died, Elora.’ No, shediddie.” My voice broke. “’By the way, the King of Vesta is actually your father.’”

I watched his full lips curve into a smile as he looked up at me, amusement shining through. “I suspect that might cause more questions, considering she might not know I’m king,” he drawled. I huffed a laugh despite myself. Warmth from the bond made me look Rain in the eyes, and I wanted nothing more than to throw myself into his arms. But I wouldn’t. He wasn’t ready. “Just tell her the truth, Em. That’s all we can do.” He broke eye contact with me, looking down at the stone in his hand as he traced his thumb over it.

“What if she’s angry? What if she’s upset with me? Hell, what if she doesn’t believe me?”

“If she’s angry, you will understand because you love her, and you are the most empathetic woman I’ve ever met. If she’s upset with you, you will give her the space and patience she needs to work through it. As for believing you, well, if what Dewalt says is true, maybe I’ll be enough proof to convince her.” He smiled at me before reaching up and closing his hand over mine where I’d grasped the railing.

“It’s not quite as pronounced as Dewalt makes it out to be. It wouldn’t have gone unnoticed for so long if it werethatobvious. He notices it because he knows your face so well. And he knew Lucia’s—mine. But perhaps it will help.”

He brushed his thumb over the top of my hand as he gazed up at me. But then he pulled away, just as fear and self-doubt ebbed between us. He still wasn’t ready. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, then pulled it away quickly, almost as if it burned.

“Where did this sword come from?”

He unsheathed it, pulling it out to look at it. Holding it up, he walked into a streak of sunlight and examined it. I hated the thing. I almost felt bad for asking him to carry it for me; since it made me feel sick with dread, it might have similar effects on him. I could feel it from where I stood, a low, repulsive energy. But when Rain looked up at me, awe and confusion on his face, I felt a twinge of pride which made me smile.

“It’s Declan’s.” Shock came rippling out of him, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, he was naked when he rifted away from Darkhold, so I suppose that’s why he didn’t grab it.”

“He was naked? Why was—never mind, I don’t care.” Rain shook his head and went back to examining the sword once more.

“I saw it in his quarters. It glinted in the light, and I—I don’t know. I felt like I should take it. But it makes me feel ill.”

“It’s an elven blade,” he said, peering over it. I stared down at it and noticed a golden swirling language inscribed within the steel. It must have only been visible in direct light. His words registered, and I stared at the weapon in disbelief.

“Divine hell, where did Declan get an elven blade? That has to be at least five centuries old—more.”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Father has one—er—I suppose we have one. It was something he took from the last elf prince. He challenged him, and the prince lost, or so Father claimed. Truly, this sword could be its twin. The only difference is the stones.”

“Your father has Tannyl’s sword? Soren was the one who killed him then?” The elf prince had fought bravely during the Great War, but died with the rest of his kin. It had always been a rumor that Soren had killed him, but if he had Tannyl’s sword, it must have been true.

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