Page 95 of To Touch A Silent Fury
This was no elderly man.
I froze to the spot in an instant, my eyes tracking up and down in complete disbelief. I took in the newest addition first, the circle made of tiny dots on his right temple. He’d done it, he’d earned his Fated Mark. I gasped, my hand flying to my throat, and staggered forwards a step as I took in the rest of him: familiar kind eyes, long nose, and his warm mouth opening in surprise.
For a second, he simply looked confused, and then his face changed. Shock lanced him just as readily as it had me. “Tani?” he asked, his voice strangled as tears formed in my eyes. He looked aghast. “Tani, can it truly be you?”
“Seth,” I breathed.
He let out a garbled noise and ran forwards, pulling me into his arms. I wrapped my arms around him, not knowing if the surprise, relief, and love I felt in that moment was his or mine.
Seth, Seth, Seth.
I sobbed, the noose of perpetual loneliness falling from my shoulders as we held each other.
He pressed his nose into my hair. “How can this be so? A Soundlander girl with a dragon. How is thatyou?”
I choked on a laugh, pulling back a little. His hair was shorter now than I had known it, and his clothing far from the drab grey cloak I had associated him with forever. He wore a light blue waistcoat over a fitted white shirt and well-fitted trousers. Stabbed into his waistcoat, almost like an afterthought, was a golden pin of a scroll. I tapped it with the back of a fingernail. “How areyouthe King’s Advisor?”
Seth stared down at me, his white eyes shining with tears. He snorted ungracefully, and my heart clenched. “I am related to the king. That is hardly the biggest surprise here.”
I shook my head in total disbelief, pulling him back towards me. “I am so glad you’re here.”
“I thought you might be dead, when they’d told me you’d fled,” he rambled. “I promise you I tried to appeal to the Threads to take you back in. But the rules prevent a Broken from stepping on the island.”
“I know, I know,” I said, happy to be in his arms.
“I should have done more,” he said, and through my touch I felt his guilt and shame rising up. “Edrin’s watch, I should have searched every land.”
I shook my head, shushing him. “No, Seth. It was the path meant for me. I have made some peace with it over the last span.”
He pulled back again, and this time he stepped out of the circle of my arms. His manner was frantic as he took me in, then he gasped. “On my life, your eyes.”
I laughed. “Yes, I’ve finally unshackled them from the moon.” I pointed to the bed. “Would you like to meet him?”
He stared at me in wonderment, then his brow furrowed, and he followed my point. I could not help the chuckle when he visibly baulked, jumping back a full step. “Dragon,” he whispered.
I stepped over to the child, curled peacefully on the bed. His small claws had already ripped some of the sheets, but I didn’t think to care, only glad he was comfortable. I settled myself nextto him, stroking a hand down his back and feeling our mutual relief at the touch. It was easier when we were close. His back arched, and still half asleep, he pushed his feet out into me and then crawled into my lap.
When I glanced up, Seth was watching me with his mouth open.
“You have questions, I expect,” I said.
Seth shook his head, rubbing at his clean-shaven face. “Where have you been? Are you well? Why did you come here? How did you—How are you bonded to a sapphire dragon? Have you eaten?”
I laughed again, and with him it came so naturally. “Maybe one at a time. I’ll start with the easier ones. I am well enough, better than I deserve, and my reluctant guards are feeding us. And I have been living like a Euphon, or as close as they would allow me. That much was true.”
“How was it?” he asked. “In the forest?”
Years of memories flowed through me. The good moments were like stars amongst the black sky of hardship. A first sun after a long Domin, a warm hearty meal I’d caught myself, a smile shared with Yvon. But I didn’t want to talk about all of it now. There was too much to unbox, too much to remember. Too many hungry and lonely days. So instead, I tried to smile. “Cold.”
He shook his head. “I cannot imagine how you must have lived.”
“It is a tale for another time,” I said. I meant it. At some point, with wine and a night to talk, I wanted to speak on my time there. Everything I had learnt, everything I had survived. But that day was not today.
“And,” he started, circling his finger towards my lap. “How is that?”
I rolled my eyes. “Come over here, you oaf. He probably won’t bite. I don’t think he’s got to that phase yet.”
He looked a little grey at that, but he came over nonetheless, approaching the bed with fear. “There’s a biting phase?”
