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‘Oh, travel won’t be an issue,’ I said. ‘We can just ask some of the alves to fade us.’

It turned out neither of them had heard of the concept. So I told them about fading and then about the phoenixes not being birds; Rosalind wanted to know if we had any allied vampires in the Underground, and Delwin turned out to be particularlyinterested in fire magic. We spent most of our first hour of walking in pleasant conversation on the different corners of the magical world, interrupted every now and then by guards passing on questions. Were we going to set up camp right outside the walls? What were the plans for dinner? Would weapons be distributed among those who hadn’t brought any?

‘I’ll ask the others outside to take care of it,’ I kept telling them, smiling my most reassuring smile time and time again. ‘Agenor has plenty of experience with this sort of logistics.’

That generally did the trick.

‘Your father, isn’t he?’ Delwin said after the fifth of them hurried off to pass on my message. ‘Agenor?’

I nodded. He threw a glance at Rosalind, whose smile suddenly had a decidedly nervous edge to it – an answer to all the questions we weren’t asking.

I decided to keep my mouth shut. As much as I wanted to know what she was planning to tell him, the specifics of their love life were hardly my concern.

Alyra joined us after about an hour and a half of walking, prompting another educational conversation on gods and godsworn magic. By the time I’d told Delwin about Agenor’s snakes, my feet were aching a little and the gleaming white walls of the city’s wider territory were looming up before us, still half-hidden behind hills and forest. The people behind us were audibly getting nervous at the sight, and Delwin announced he was going to make a quick round of the ranks to make sure no one would be panicking when confronted with their first fullblood magical being.

I sent Alyra on her way with all my remaining white ribbons – the clearest sign I could think of that all was well and I would soon be back from my journey. Then it was just Rosalind and me, walking the last mile in silence as behind us the expectant laughter grew quieter and quieter and finally died away entirely.

The guards at the gate appeared to have been warned: they looked grim but unsurprised as we approached. I waited while they hauled away bolt after bolt, wondering suddenly how many of the people behind me had never even seen the world on the other side of that wall – did they know what the sea looked like, the plains and forests stretching out to the west of the city?

The near-absolute silence suggested that at least some of them did not.

There were some gasps behind me when the gate finally swung open.

The field between city and sea was surprisingly empty – no more tents or desperate refugees, only some squares of browned grass showing where the camp had been three days ago. Only as I cautiously stepped past the wall did my gaze fall on the group that had come in place of those unlucky humans: a handful of alves lingering around a small campfire, a single low tent, and at the very right side of their gathering—

My heart skipped a beat.

Creon.

I forgot for a moment about my mother beside me. Forgot about the humans pouring through the gate at my back, whispering urgently amongst each other.

Damn the aching feet – I ran.

He broke away from his alvish company at the same moment, striding towards me with rapidly widening eyes. Something to do with the unannounced army emerging behind me, possibly. Something to do with the forty-something-year-old woman who might look just a bit too much like me to the observant eye. As he came within hearing distance, wings flaring in agitation, he started a slightly bewildered, ‘Em, what in the world have you—’

I flung myself around his neck before he could finish.

He went silent.

Near the gate, a few people cried out in shock. Closer, an alf whistled suggestively. But I breathed in the sweet, sweet scent of him, and only then did it truly hit me how much I’d missed him even in these short few days – how much I had craved his touch and his smiles and the rough warmth of his voice.

So much for the peace and the politics and the people who looked like me; this was where I’d unknowingly been going since I stepped through that gate three mornings ago.

‘Em,’ he repeated as he wrapped his arms around me, a hint of baffled laughter in his voice. ‘What exactly are these people—’

‘That’s our army,’ I said into his shoulder, my voice muffled by lean muscle and linen. ‘Don’t worry, they were a surprise for me, too.’

‘Ah.’ He cleared his throat. ‘You realise they’re looking at us?’

‘Oh, probably.’ I tightened my grip, just in case he was thinking of releasing me. ‘Can’t blame them. You’re pretty pleasant to look at.’

This time his laughter was unmistakable. ‘Yes, and I wouldn’t dare begrudge them the delight, but I’ve been told my presence is a little divisive. If you don’t want to chase your new followers back into the city before they’ve seen a single battlefield …’

I shrugged. ‘I already told them.’

He stiffened in my arms.

‘My least favourite consul decided to accuse me of spreading my legs for murderers during a public meeting,’ I added, letting go of his neck to lean back and meet his eye. As expected, his face had gone tight at once. ‘So if they could handle that, I suspect they’ll survive the sight of a hug, too. And either way, I’m not planning to stop hugging you.’