Page 83
Story: Ruins of Sea and Souls
His nod was small, barely distinguishable from an involuntary twitch in the dim firelight.
And why shouldn’t the choice be his, too? I glanced over my shoulder, at the eastern temple wing that stretched out along the garden, the barrier of tightly entwined plants that rose before it. They weren’t justmyfriends and allies. He was forced to deal with them just as much, and if the truth would make this company pushed upon him any more bearable …
Why should my fear and discomfort be the only factor of relevance? It was so damn easy to assume he would handle it somehow, the male who always handled everything somehow – but clearly he didn’twantto handle this.
Ignoring that was choosing a side, too, and not the side I wished to choose.
‘Tared …’ I swallowed. ‘Even if he doesn’t kick me out of the house, he might be unhappy for a while when he finds out.’
When.Notif. I heard it the moment it passed my lips, and the brief stiffening of Creon’s wings told me I was not the only one.
He might sulk a bit, yes.
‘So maybe this is not the place to tell him.’ I gestured at the dark courtyard. ‘There’s no avoiding each other here. I don’t want to deal with both time pressure and grumbling alves if we’re forced together for the rest of our journey.’
Creon sighed, but nodded.
‘So for the coming week …’ I pursed my lips. ‘Could you stop attacking? Just shrug and walk away if he’s being a prick. Pretend you didn’t hear him. Chat back about the weather, if you must. Just act like he’s a five-year-old trying to start shit, and …’
A smile quirked his lips.Not sure if you want to know what I’d do with five-year-olds trying to start shit, Em.
I rolled my eyes. ‘Try not to skin him alive.’
I’ve been making that effort for a while.
‘Keep doing that,’ I said, swatting at him. ‘Six more days at most. And tell Lyn you’re sorry for upsetting her, which you are, even if you don’t give a damn about the state of Tared’s shoulder.’
He looked like he was about to object, but miraculously swallowed his protest.
‘Alright. That should get us through the rest of this trip.’ I drew in a deep breath. ‘And then when we’re back in the Underground – when we can just camp in some vacant house in Inika’s Quarter until the alves figure out how not to kill you …’
My chest tightened again – that familiar flare of panic, warning me that the fragile life I’d built for myself might come tumbling down any moment. And yet I managed to keep breathing this time. Because things would change, and I might hate the changes – but if evenCreondidn’t think the Skeire family would chew me out and never exchange a word with me again, then who was I to doubt that?
And choices had to be made.
I felt it in the marrow of my bones for the first time, the violent scene of the afternoon a frightening demonstration of the alternative. Trying to walk all paths at once was a recipe for disaster, a guarantee of endless misunderstandings leading to bloody escalations. My alternatives were either telling the truth or giving up on any public encounters with Creon for months or years to come, and that …
Hell, was that even a choice?
‘When we’re back in the Underground,’ I repeated, and my voice only croaked a little as the words spilled out of me, ‘I’ll tell them.’
Chapter 16
Ididn’trememberfallingasleep in his arms; the memories of his embrace and his lips against my forehead mingled seamlessly with my feverish dreams. But when I woke, the crackled ceiling of my bedroom had replaced the starry continent sky, and instead of the spiced smell of autumn and warm honey, the pervasive mustiness of dust and stale water now filled my nostrils.
And shouting.
Someone was shouting.
Lyn? I scrambled out of bed with enough speed to strain an ankle, processing the shreds of my observations only slowly. ThatwasLyn’s voice, although there was no making out the words with walls and doors separating us; all I could identify was that clipped tone of exhausted patience, a tone I instinctually connected to Edored. But Edored was no longer at the temple – my heart squeezed at the memory of his burn wounds – and for anyone else to bring Lyn to that level of exasperation …
Something had to be very wrong.
I yanked my dress over my head, stepped into my boots, and stumbled out into the corridor, ignoring the mess of hair around my shoulders. Now I heard Tared too, sounding thoroughly displeased. The third voice, interrupting the two of them every other heartbeat …
ThatwasEdored.
For one bewildering moment, I was convinced the previous day had been a dream: my training with Sunray, Edored’s ill-conceived dragon hunt, the knife Creon had pressed to Tared’s throat. Then I staggered around the corner and found Edored lounging against the kitchen counter with thick layers of greenish salves on his face and a generous number of bandages covering his arms, and came to the even more disconcerting conclusion it had all been real.
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