Page 48 of Aubade Rising

The sun is about to set when I see a quay appear ahead.

I hope it’s Cathair but, right now, I’ll do anything to get out of this freezing water, still tinged with the faintest pink.

I paddle closer and grasp the wooden structure.

My fingers are cramping. I crawl onto the dock.

White knuckles, arms shivering, I make it out of the water alive.

And I wait.

The cold sets in but I feel nothing. I will not leave until I know if Eskar is alive.

The last ray of sunshine flickers over the horizon and through habit I channel.

Thank goodness I do because I’m at risk of hypothermia.

I send a flash of light upwards, alerting the aqueduct guards to my presence.

It occurs to me they could be rebels but I doubt that they will kill me on the spot.

Nonetheless, I’ll die if I stay here exposed.

I don’t even care that I’ve used my magic so openly.

Logic has abandoned me and I can only think about the cold… and Eskar.

The guards, taken aback to find a member of the King’s Concord stranded at the aqueduct quay, give up attempting to get me to leave after a while. If they think my behaviour bizarre, they don’t say. I’m left with heavy blankets and some food but I can’t bear to eat right now.

I sit and wait, and think of all the things I haven’t said to Eskar – how he’s been constantly on my mind, how he kept me sane in the Haag and protected me time and time again. I never got to explain or apologise for his torture.

The water keeps flowing, its rhythmic noise hypnotic. I scold myself when my eyes try to shutter and resume my watch.

My ears are so attuned to the regular pulse of the flow, they catch a slight variation. An irregular splash, then another. All of a sudden, I’m wide awake, peering through the darkness, wishing the moon was brighter.

A silhouette rises from the water. My heart threatens to pound out of my chest at the hope it could be him.

The figure struggles and collapses, too weak to make it to the bank. Without thinking, I jump back in the water, icy in the darkness and make my way over.

I get close enough to recognise his face, his broad shoulders, his height. It’s him – it’s really him. In the darkness I can’t see if he’s injured but he’s alive.

He’s too exhausted to speak but I see a smile once he recognises me and pulls his arm over my shoulder to help him get to dry land. He’s too heavy for us to move quickly and when we get to the bank, I use my light to signal the guards below for help.

While we wait, I hold his head against my shoulder, giving his legs a rest. His eyes close, pale face drawn but his hands start to channel under the water. Good, hopefully that will give him something to keep in reserve, since his magic must be thoroughly depleted.

The guards help me carry him out of the water and down the stairs. They must recognise him because a carriage is called.

I refuse to let go of his hand on the journey and every so often he jerks into consciousness and panics. When he sees my face, he relaxes and slips away again.

My heart sinks when we are taken through the streets of Cathair to his family home, a monolith of white stone glowing in the moonlight. The driver opens the carriage door and coughs when I don’t move to leave.

Eskar peels open one eye. His attention snaps to the driver when he notices where we are, his gaze narrows.

“Sir, the house is err… quite empty. Ms Dervla Cairbre told us to keep it maintained but your arrival is unanticipated. Your parents have been…” Eskar visibly relaxes as the driver stumbles for the right word.

“Removed?”

“Yes sir. Quite right. You’re safe in the city for now.”

“Do you happen to know by who?”

“The new Almanac I believe. They’ve been suspended and asked to retreat to their summer estate outside Restormel.”

That’s miles away, far from Cathair and I sink into the carriage seat in relief.

Eskar’s nod is the full extent of his remaining energy and he all but falls out of the carriage and stumbles up the steps to his family home.

The housekeeper is awake when we arrive, but the rest of the house is deserted. She leads us to our rooms but gets flustered when I refuse to leave his side, eventually conceding this is an argument she won’t win. I’m not going anywhere until I’m certain he’s safe.

I curl up tightly against his side, ignoring our damp clothes. My shivers stir me long after I fall asleep.