Page 117 of Shadows and Flames
“I made a vow, and I intend to do everything I can to keep it. I love him,” I pointed to Elián, “and The Shadows are important to him. Let alone the fact that Cal intends to do nothing but be an absolute terror at the expense of everyone involved. I’m going.”
Tomás gave me a flat look and huffed as he leaned further in his seat. “What a beautiful proclamation of love.” He winced, rubbing at his chest, and I saw the way Elián tensed. “This is bullshit.Balderdash.”
Instead of deigning his brother’s ranting with a response, El grasped the handles of Tomás’s chair and began steering him toward the door. At least the male had the good sense to not plant his heels into the floor.
Elián sent me a weak smile, and I returned it, communicating reassurance I wasn’t qualified to give. I followed them both into the corridor, just as Cera came stomping around the corner. Well, she glided while her guards stepped heavily behind her. Like when she’d pulled the sickness from Elián’s brother, she was dressed in a mixture of gold and typical priestesswear. This time, she overlayed her cream-colored ensemble with a purple shawl around her shoulders.
“These two rooms for now, please,” she directed to the guards who were a mixture of Lylithan, human, and elven, judging by their scents and the characteristic features I could see. They wore identical armor, but the one who was taller than the rest, taller than even Elián, went for Tana’s room. The human went for Tomás’s things, and the remaining guards stood at Cera’s back. “We’ll have to return for the Vyrkos.” She rolled her eyes, even when Tana emerged with that blush still fierce.
“Have you heard anything else?”
Cera grimaced but kept her answer accordingly vague, for fear of nosy lodging house patrons. “Yes, and it’s…notencouraging. More silence from your siblings,” she nodded toward El and Tomás, “and tales of negotiations we weren’t yet privy to.”
Ice crackled over my spine. “Negotiations.”
The guards emerged from the now vacant rooms, carrying my cousin’s and Tomás’s things. Cera chewed at her lip. “We’re unsure of withwhomaside from the separate conversations with Quen. But there’s been allusion to more.”
“For what?” Tana asked quietly yet loud enough for us to hear.
“‘Bolstering the Lylithan stronghold’,” Cera quoted, and my stomach dropped. Knowing how he governed Krisla, there was no doubt what such efforts would entail.
War.
“We must go,” Elián said, and I nodded resolutely.
First to the Shadow Well. And as our procession left the lodging house on Fair and Fortune, I suspected that my peace with Elián, in his Banfas apartment while we made a life together, was retreating further and further away like a receding wave.
Chapter Forty-Three
ELIÁN
We walked the Ralthan Forest, hand in hand, while we led our mares along the overgrown path. I knew the way like I knew my name, though I’d not been back to Papá’s small home in many years. While I had suggested we spend the night at the inn on the main road, with its hot meals and bustling business, here we were.
I paid someone to check in on the home monthly, cleaning and notifying me of any repairs necessary. I could never bear to lease it out, though.
“This—his house is this way?” Meline whispered, her words mixing with the shuddering of the fiery, balding trees above. One of the things I enjoyed most about Ralthas was the visible change in seasons, marking time and providing distinct experiences, celebrations. Zonoras was different, time stretching as far as the endless stretch of sand and rock.
The forest was temperate, just as the one where my queen and I walked, starting our new beginning.
“Yes. It’s not much further.” The sun was almost fully set, now, and the barest hint of orange hung over the treetops, lighting the way. A wind coursed around us, rustling the land and the hair near my face. Before I had decided to stop usin Ralthas, only derailing our journey by an hour or so, I had dressed in one of the shawls my father had woven for me, more than a century ago. It was more decoration than anything, providing additional warmth I did not need. But the vibrant stripes in red, blue, and white filled me with pangs of emotion. Too complex for me to try and put words to, so I just swallowed them, let the feelings settle in my stomach while the knotted fringe along the edges swayed with my steps.
My fingers were not as skilled as Papá’s had been, but perhaps I could make one. For my queen.
More of those throat-tightening memories threatened to sweep me under as we drew closer. The faint clops of our horse’s steps punctuated the count down until we were there. Standing on the path leading to my father’s home.
Moss covered the stone in patches, but the windows had recently been washed. The interior was dark, of course, and the greenery surrounding was a bit overgrown. But Papá had liked that, enjoyed feeling surrounded by nature to the point of almost being suffocated by it. So, I instructed the home’s carer, a gentle Lylithan who lived closer to town, to only trim what was necessary.
The cottage consisted of three bedrooms, a living area, and a kitchen. Simple and small, even though it had seemed so large when I was a boy. With what felt like the whole world around it. Zonoras was nothing but flattened desert, now, so I clung to this, my childhood home, as much as my and Leandro’s apartment.
I started forward, bringing with me the horse named Saffron, until I noticed an absence at my side. I stood between the mouth of the path and the front door. Meline was gazing to the left, where oak and maple trees cloaked the land beyond.
Her mauve tunic was loose, fluttering in the evening breeze while her leather trousers hugged her thighs. The curls that hadbeen short and slicked to her scalp were now long enough to spring around her ears and temples.
“The house where…” Meline swallowed, and pointed west. “That way.” The Ralthan River was a distant rush, a shudder filling the voice of the forest. Another song that colored my memories, like the howling wind rustling the tent fabric of my mother’s home.
I looked where Meline was pointing, fear and the familiar gnawing sadness clawing at the underside of my ribs. “We can set down our things and feed the horses. And you will show me?” Because now, such grief could be shared.
She faced me, eyes shimmering with more than the gold I had grown used to, and nodded.
