Page 160 of The Seeker
Sabine’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“We need to be there. I need to make this training available to mated pairs who want to learn. The Tomir have already secured Akune’s memory stone and are taking it to the treasury. Rhys is ready to be settled for a while, though I think we may go to Istanbul for a long visit soon.”
Sabine blinked. “Your parents?”
“My retinue comes with me.”
Sabine’s eyes grew panicked. “And the haven?”
“Is yours,” Meera said softly. “Yours and Roch’s. My parents agree with me. This land is tied to you and your blood. Your wards deterred an archangel for decades, even when you were unstable. You’re the best possible guardian for Havre Hélène.”
“You’re leaving me in charge of the haven?” Sabine’s laugh was manic. “I’m still half-crazy!”
Meera pursed her lips. “You’re a work in progress. Aren’t we all?”
“Meera, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but—”
“I trust you.” She put a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “I trust you, Sabine. Roch trusts you. My parents trust you.” She leaned forward and kissed the singer’s cheek. “You need to trust yourself.”
Sabine’s expression was still riddled with doubt.
“And Ata has agreed to stay close,” Meera added softly. “She will not fade. At least not right away. Some of the Koconah Citlal will be moving north to rebuild the Atchafalaya mound with her. You’ll have another haven close by. A new place of learning. An elder able to guide you.”
“Meera…” Sabine’s lip trembled. “I want to succeed. I want to be a guardian. I just… don’t know what you expect me to do.”
“I expect you to rebuild. I expect you to be you. Bright and brilliant and protective and strong. And when the madness threatens to come and overwhelm you”—she gripped Sabine’s hand tightly—“I expect you to grab it with both hands, find a safe place, and dance.”
Meera followedthe sound of shouting men to the old guest house, partially renovated and now partially burned. Rhys stood on the roof, tossing down charred shingles to waiting scribes on the ground. His shirt was stripped off and sweat ran down his chest.
His body was whole. The only wounds left in her mate were those on his psyche. And those, like any wound, would take time to heal.
He was even starting to get a tan. Meera hadn’t thought that was possible.
Rhys spotted her, whistled for a break, and climbed down the ladder. “Hello.” His smile was still held an edge of arrogance, but it was softened by the love in his eyes. “Did you talk to Sabine?”
She nodded before he kissed her. “How much water have you drunk today?”
“Enough.” He gave her bottom a friendly smack and nudged her toward a towering magnolia tree that shaded what was left of the back porch. “And they insisted on pouring that hideous tea down my throat.”
“It’s cold and sweet and delicious.”
“It’s cold tea.” He grimaced. “It ought to be illegal.”
She handed him a bandana to wipe his forehead.
“Tell me again”—he stretched out on the grass and put his head in her lap—“about the weather in Udaipur.”
“Um… not as humid as here?”Most of the time.“And don’t forget the large, air-conditioned fortress. It’s been completely modernized.”
He smiled and closed his eyes. “Right now that’s good enough.”
They lay in the shade of the magnolia, listening to the hammering and labor of the scribes and singers repairing the guest house. In the distance, Sabine started her old gramophone and pointed the horn toward the workers.
The breeze smelled of burned sugar, but it was soft and cool. The fire had burned the chaff away from the cane, but it had not destroyed everything. The ground was raw and exposed, but the roots remained. The cane would grow back, healthier than it had ever been.
“I love this place,” Rhys said. “Quite surprised by that, but I do. I want to come back.”
“But you don’t want to stay.”
