Page 40 of Fate of Echoes and Embers (Heirs of Elydor #3)

MAREK

“Why does everything look so much more different than I remember it?”

We stepped onto the dock in Valewood Bay, Issa looking around as if it was the first time she had seen it.

You’re not the same person as when you left.

I wanted to tell her that, but Issa wasn’t a woman that could be coerced or convinced into a decision.

She would decide for herself what our journey meant to her, and the course of her future, without aid from me.

It was one of the many things I loved about her.

That fierce, independent spirit was evident on the very first day we met.

She was so brave, for a human especially, and Issa had proven that in the Depths.

“I know we said we would wait for the others, but if you wish, we can make our way to Hawthorne now?” I asked, assuming Issa would be anxious to be on the road.

“With the same winds and good weather we had, they should not be far behind us, you think?”

“That’s my hope.”

“We will wait,” she said. “Besides, we have no mounts until they arrive.”

“I can get us mounts if necessary.”

“Ever resourceful, as always, captain.”

It was good to see Issa smile. Our journey here had been swift, thankfully, but it was difficult to see her so forlorn knowing there was little I could do to comfort her.

“Let’s find out what we can.”

Issa and I made our way through the port.

We talked to people, gathered information.

Ate a meal and eventually made our way back to the harbor to wait.

Unfortunately, we learned little more than we already knew.

Draven had declared himself the new lord of Hawthorne Manor, but most seemed unconcerned.

It was that apathy, even for fellow humans, that had not allowed Estmere to realize its full potential.

“I know it is difficult for you,” I said as we watched the sea for any signs of Thalassari ships, “with Hawthorne Manor under siege. But excuse me for saying, I’ve enjoyed this time here with you. We work well together, Issa.”

I’d never spoken more truer words. On land, and at sea, we were of one mind which was remarkable given the difference in our upbringing, our abilities, our life spans.

“There is no need for me to excuse you,” she said. “If not for the weight of my people upon me, I would enjoy making my way through port with you. It was the same in the Gyorian marketplace. Beauty, among the darkness. Happiness, despite despair. ’Tis the way of life, I suppose.”

“The first more easy to appreciate given the second.”

“Aye.” She craned her neck, and I followed her gaze.

“It’s them.” Issa ran to the edge of the dock, and I followed.

They were still far away, but the sight of the largest ship in the Tidebreaker Fleet was enough to cause a stir.

As promised, Nerys had not just sent a contingency of Thalassari sailors.

She’d sent the best. Soon, we were surrounded by onlookers.

Watching Issa’s expression, I wanted to pull her to me and kiss her. Reassure her all would be well. But that wasn’t what she needed. Issa had made it clear when we’d re-boarded Tidechaser that she wanted distance, and as difficult as it had been, I’d given it.

She’s preparing to be separated for good.

I could feel her pulling away, bit by bit. Had she already made her decision and just didn’t want to tell me? Could I really ride away from Hawthorne when this was over, never to see her again?

Did I have a choice?

Putting our future from my mind, and restraining myself from touching her, I watched with her as the ship pulled into dock.

“Come on,” I said, nearly taking her hand, until I remembered.

“They really brought horses with them,” she said as they began to unload.

“Horses, provisions. It’s not the first battle of this sort they’ve seen. You forget, some of them are thaloran.”

“I do forget,” she admitted. “It’s so hard to imagine living more than five hundred years. I even forget how old you are sometimes.”

“I’m a child compared to this one,” I said as the seven-hundred-year-old Navarch and leader of this fleet approached. “Lady Isolde, this is Navarch Kieran of Thalassaria, a sharp and steadfast sailor, despite his advanced age.”

Kieran barked out a laugh. “Despite it? Because of it.” He inclined his head to Issa. “My lady, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Kieran’s silver-streaked hair and sea-weathered face bore witness to a life spent battling both enemies and unpredictable tides. We clashed, at times, but he was a worthy and competent ally.

“Thank you,” she said, “for coming to Hawthorne’s aid.”

“And miss the opportunity to remind our Gyorian neighbors the strength of the sea?” He grinned, his gold tooth glinting. “It is our pleasure.”

It wasn’t until the ship was fully unloaded that Issa and I made our way back to Tidechaser to collect our own belongings. I attached them to the mounts that Kieran provided us, and with all eyes in Valewood Bay on us, more than sixty Thalassari followed as we rode from the city.

By the time we reached the outskirts of Hawthorne Manor, it was apparent things were not the same as we’d left it.

Issa gasped when she first spotted the Aetherian tents, visible in the distance because of the blue light they emitted.

Unlike Gyorians, who preferred to blend into their environment, Aetherian warriors believed their presence should be known, a beacon of power and protection.

Their tents, woven with threads imbued with celestial energy, shimmered like the night sky.

“If it was not so terrifying, I would call it beautiful,” Issa said.

“The precise feeling they hope to evoke.”

We were too far from Hawthorne Manor to see it in the distance, especially in the dark.

Movement from the Aetherian camp told us they were aware of our presence, so I wasn’t surprised when two riders, on their gleaming white mounts, headed our way.

I was surprised, however, to realize one was familiar to us.

Before I realized what she was doing, Issa had stopped and was dismounting, running to Lyra.

The Aetherian warrior did the same, the two embracing as if they had been lifelong friends.

In times such as these, with stakes so high, connections were forged and strengthened.

I too appreciated the familiar faces, not expecting Commander Eirion to have come himself.

Grabbing the reins of Issa’s mount, I rode forward.

“We’ve yet to advance,” I heard Lyra saying.

After greetings were exchanged, I asked Eirion if their camp could accommodate sixty more.

“Indeed,” he said. “Though we’ve a newcomer to camp, a Gyorian himself, who warns of a flank attack by a band of Gyorians. We were told those who support Draven are inside with him. Reivers, thieves… none with authority from their king. But the others are a different story.”

“How far away are they?” I asked.

“Unsure. Our scout should be returning soon to confirm.”

Gyorians hid their tracks over land well, but an Aetherian scout didn’t rely on physical markers alone. With the air at their command, I had no doubt we would know precisely how far away this new band was.

“What’s the plan?” I asked.

It was Lyra who answered. “It may change with your arrival.”

I motioned ahead. “Onward then.”

Issa remounted easily, reminding me how adept she was at more than just sailing.

If it was unusual for a contingency of Thalassari to join an Aetherian one to defend a human holding, it was made even more so by the presence of Gyorian scouts lurking at the tree line.

I couldn’t see them, of course, but knew they were there.

Three separate clans had converged upon Hawthorne Manor, and the air was thick with tension.

As we dismounted, Eirion and Kieran greeted each other warmly, their individual histories intertwining more than once throughout the ages.

“This way,” Lyra said to Issa and me as our mounts, and belongings, were taken by one of my own men who had joined the mission. I raised a hand to thank him, allowing Lyra to lead us toward the Aetherian camp.

“Our newcomer,” she said, weaving between tents. “I believe you know him.”

Rounding the corner, we came upon what was likely Eirion’s tent. It was larger than the others, five times in size. Waving her hand, Lyra opened the flap made of sapphire silk. Aetherians were nothing if not impractical, their love of beauty finding its place even in the midst of battle.

The Gyorian informant’s back was to us as he spoke to an Aetherian warrior who sat at the oval table in the center of the tent.

He turned.

Issa gasped.