Page 76 of A Monsoon Rising

Hovering directly over the crater—directly above its deep abyss—was the yacht.

It’s a very small yacht,Alaric thought uneasily. And the amplifying configuration that had been laid out on the deck, the assemblage of jars and wires, seemed far too breakable when its backdrop was a yawning, bottomless pit.

He was Shadowforged. He shouldn’t have been scared of the dark. But withinthisdarkness lurked a horror that Alaric couldn’t face alone.

Ishan was somehow still gabbling on, speculating about the dragons’ method for communicating among themselves. Talasyn leaned well away from the aetherwave transceiver’s mouthpiece. “Imagine if the Void Sever triumphs because of Daya Vaikar’s unpredictable attention span,” she muttered.

“At least it will be no fault of yours or mine,” said Alaric, “and the survivors will remember us kindly.”

Talasyn snorted. She shone in her blue-and-gold armor, in the moonlight, her dragons spinning above her. Some had dug their claws lower down the volcanic slopes, as though preparing to pounce at whatever emerged from the crater. Four of Lir’s seven moons had already disappeared from the sky.

Ishan eventually stopped talking, perhaps realizing that no one on the other end was listening to her. And in the silence …

“I just wanted to say—” Alaric broke off. Whatdidhe want to say?

Talasyn blinked up at him. “Yes?”

I am sorry for everything.

I liked writing to you.

I won’t let my father hurt you.

I know we agreed that it’s simply physical attraction between us, but sometimes—sometimes I think—

Ever since we met, I have lived in a dream of what could be.

But he could never tell her any of this. Saying any of it would make dying tonight thebetteroption. He could never confess about the stolen sariman and Gaheris’s plans before he figured out how to fix all of it.

“If this is farewell,” Alaric began, aping his father’s words because that was affection as he knew it, and that meant something, too, “then it is—”

“It’snotfarewell,” Talasyn interrupted fiercely. “You said so yourself, on Belian, remember? When I asked if you really thought we could stop the Voidfell, you said,Yes. Otherwise, we’re all dead.You may have been a smart-ass about it, but you were right. Wewillmake it through. We’ll fight to live. You taught me how.” Two more moons vanished, leaving only the Seventh, but all the light that he needed was in her eyes, the shards of gold within them fervent with conviction. “So stop moping and let’s get thisdone.”

Alaric smiled behind his mask. He reached out to tuck that particular strand of chestnut hair that was always escaping from Talasyn’s braid back behind her ear, moving carefully so that the clawed tips of his gauntlet didn’t rake into her temple.She shivered at his touch, the seventh moon’s wan silver glow dusting her freckled cheeks.

He drank it all in.

“If there’s anything I believe in,” he said, “it’s your stubbornness. It annoys me quite frequently, but it can move mountains. I would have no one else by my side tonight.”

Talasyn rolled her eyes. “I’ll hold you to that the next time we argue.”

Alaric shrugged. “I’m just glad that there will be a next time.”

The aetherwave transceiver crackled to life. It was Ishan again, asking them if they were ready. Shadows were steadily creeping over the last remaining moon, like ink spilled from its bottle, over fresh parchment.

“We’re ready,” Talasyn confirmed into the transceiver’s mouthpiece.

Ishan replied in Nenavarene before signing off. Alaric and Talasyn stepped closer to each other, facing each other within the amplifying configuration. “What did Daya Vaikar say?” he asked.

Talasyn’s lips curved into a small, wistful smile as she translated for him. “‘I’ll see you on the other end of this, or in the Sky Above the Sky where our ancestors sail.’”

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

The seventh moon slid into place behind its fellows, forming for the first time in a thousand years a straight line that blocked sunlight and all its reflections from reaching Lir. Only the stars were left in the heavens, but they shone so faintly that the world was effectively plunged into shadow.

In the depths of the moonless night, the dragons growled and huffed and beat their wings. The primitive racket, speaking to magic much older than these islands, was soon joined by a low rumbling from the crater below Alaric’s feet.

He glanced beyond the yacht. Embers of violet light bled upward in a slow and mesmerizing ascent from out of the darkness. In their glimmering multitudes, they shone like fireflies rising from the bushes in early summer as the dusk crept in.

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