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Story: Dawnbringer

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about Cori lately,” Aiden said. “And Dad. Mostly about those first few days after we got the news that they were gone.” He lifted his mug but didn’t drink. “I remember… it didn’t feelrealat first. It felt like we were waiting for someone to say it was all a mistake, some stupid prank. That they were coming back. Theyhadto be coming back.”

He shook his head. “We got that, Aimes. One of them came back.”

Aimee’s jaw tightened. Her voice dropped to something flat. “What if it’s not the one I wanted?”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do.”

She plucked out her tea bag and set it aside.

He stared her down across the table. “You slept in Cori’s bed for a year. Until you said you couldn’t smell her anymore. You didn’t do that for Dad.”

A flash of old grief, quickly buried. Aimee lifted her mug and said, bored and biting, “That was a long time ago. And I wouldn’t have gotten so attached if I’d known she’d grow up to be such an attention-seeking little troll.”

Aiden didn’t push. Maybe once Taly was back—and it stopped being an if—some of that bitterness would crack.

He sipped his tea. “You know, if you keep frowning like that, you’re going to get lines.”

Aimee scowled. “Shut up.” Then she flicked her fingers, sending a spray of water droplets flying at his face.

Chapter 11

The road leading into Ryme was packed with people walking ahead and behind them, all filtering toward the city gate. Skye shoved through them all, ignoring the shouts.

Kato stumbled after him, gasping. “Help… I beg you,” he wheezed to a woman nearby. “Oh, Shards above… my legs...” He leaned against a bewildered bystander. “I just… need a moment… a century… something.”

Skye didn’t glance back. Didn’t slow. Words didn’t matter.

Only Taly did.

She was limp in his arms, barely moving. Breaths ragged and winding down.

The crowd parted. Some stepped aside for the panting, wild-eyed man muttering about a “hellish death march through the woods.” Others just got out of Skye’s way.

Six guards monitored the road from the battlement. More stood outside the gates, their hands glowing violet as they screened each person. With spies in the city, caution was a necessity, not a choice. To confirm proof of life, all magical concealments had to be stripped away.

Thankfully, they’d planned for this. Aimee had fashioned a glamour to make Taly look human. It would pass a casual glance, even close scrutiny. But for the inspection, it would have to come off. That’s where Ivain came in. He was supposed to be waiting to get them through the checkpoint.

Except Skye didn’t see him.

“Holy shit, when… did… you learn to run… like that…” Kato panted. “Ridiculous… I thought I was supposed to be the rabbit in the family.” He scanned the battlement, found the sameglaring absence. “Hey, Skye? Maybe slow down. How is this going to work without the old man?”

“No idea,” Skye said. Taly couldn’t breathe. He needed to get her inside. If it meant carving a way through, he would.

A weary-looking guard waved them forward, barely glancing up as he repeated his script for likely the hundredth time that morning. “Parcels and bags get searched, and you’ll need to submit your dead to the pyres. We have priestesses on hand if you’d like any final rites performed.”

“She’s not dead,” Skye said. “She needs a healer.”

“In that case, I need to check for signs of life and foreign magic.”

The guard reached for Taly.

Skye saw red. He wrenched her back, away from the danger, lips peeling back as a snarl clawed its way up his throat—

Kato stepped between them. “Don’t mind him. He’s had a rough day.”

Skye didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. His stare was coiled violence, waiting for an excuse.

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