Page 63

Aiden finally found what he was looking for. He pulled a slim, iridescent device from his bag—a thin tube of crystal set into a delicate metal framework. He loaded a vial of glowingliquid into its center and pressed a small switch. The device hummed, flashing violet.

“In the interim, Cori had one of these,” he said. “It’s called an airbalm. The plaques from Earthlung thicken over time, eventually blocking aether absorption completely. The airbalm breaks them up.”

He handed it to Sarina, who turned it over carefully. “So… Taly has Earthlung?”

Aiden nodded. “If I had to piece together what happened, I’d say once she left the palace, the strain of travel plus the low-aether environment combined to exacerbate the condition. I can only imagine the pain. Earthlung is… well, it’s excruciating.”

Skylen’s eyes narrowed at that. His head tilted. But whatever question was there, he didn’t give voice to it.

“Oh, my poor baby,” Sarina whispered. Ivain placed a hand on her arm, his expression grim but reassuring.

Aiden cleared his throat. Everyone’s attention re-focused. “I’ve already begun treatment,” he said. “The plaques were so thick I had to cut them away, so that actually gives us a pretty good head start. We have a clean canvas, so to speak.”

Surgery, then. That explained the blood-soaked towels.

“She’ll need the airbalm for a few more days, but after that, she should be fine. Earthlung rarely resurfaces once it’s been treated.”

The realization was slow to sink in. Talya was okay. Or would be. All that drama, the hand-wringing—it had all been wasted.

Ivain and Sarina shared a look. Then laughed. Then met each other in a hug.

Skye deflated back onto the couch, as if all the tension was finally draining out of him.

EvenKatolooked happy. And he was never happy for anyone but himself.

Aimee clenched her fists, the tightness in her throat threatening to choke her. There were too many emotions clawing at her chest, fighting for space. And none of them made sense.

Grief. Fury.Loss.

The traitorous scrape of that something unnamable that edged too close to relief.

Everyone else had already decided. The prodigal was home.

Everyone else had gotten what they wanted. So, why did she still hurt?

Because it wasn’t Cori. It was Talya. Maybe they’d been the same once, but not anymore.

Cori never would’ve left these people. She wouldn’t have thrown them away for any reason, no matter how eager they all seemed to be to welcome her back.

Aimee stood. The room didn’t need her anymore. As the others crowded around Aiden, peppering him with questions, she slipped towards the door.

No one noticed. No one stopped her. Of course, they didn’t. Where Talya existed, nothing else mattered.

“Tell me one thing,” Kato said.

Aimee blinked—just once—then turned. He barely counted, so her point still stood.

He leaned lazily against the mantle, warming his backside by the fire. She arched an expectant brow.

“Did you cheat?” he asked.

She huffed. Kato was a shadow mage. The fact that he still had to ask meant she was doing at least one thing right.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

Aimee shook her head. “Nothing.”