Page 72 of Grounded (Convergence #1)

Thaxvarien stood beside Evellor while the healer worked on him.

With a pulser wound, the flesh had to be reopened before it could be fused.

Luckily, the clinic was well stocked with the latest devices, and the healer was able to numb Evellor before slicing away the burned flesh.

But the placement of the wound—so close to the heart—made it tricky work.

Thax wasn't sure if he should leave so the healer could focus or stay in case he needed help.

Despite the fact that a man's life hung on a precipice, right there on a metal table before him, Thaxvarien felt the draw of his destra.

He glanced through the open door at Liri, who was napping in a chair just outside the med room.

Even exhausted, she looked lovely, her long hair streaming over her shoulders, catching the soft energy lights to shine red. He had almost failed her.

They had thought the attack would come from her people, but instead, it came from his.

With a twist that only fate could manage, the Medean townspeople came to help them.

A group of normal people prepared to fight warriors with rolling pins and fire pokers!

And Braxis—damn it all—had proven to be steadfast and came to help them with a fucking table leg for a weapon.

Now, he'd have to be nice to the fucker.

Thax could hardly believe it. In his time on the surface, Medeans had shown him more kindness, acceptance, and generosity than he'd ever received from the Aethari, barring his parents, of course. It made him want to stay grounded. Fuck the sky. Down here, life was about harmony, and it showed.

Braxis was in a chair near Liri, speaking with his sister and a few of the other citizens of Thennis.

The town was waking up, and word of the early morning drama was spreading.

Even as Thaxvarien watched, more people entered the room to check on their neighbors and offer their help.

Incredible. Absolutely incredible—this sense of community.

The friendship and loyalty shared without expectation of anything in return.

There were good Aethari, of course, but would they rally to defend one couple?

Not if one half of the couple was Medean and the other half was wingless.

Icara was probably floundering even now, as Thaxvarien pondered the bravery of these Medeans.

Yeah, the sky city would sooner tear itself apart than band together.

That calm came again, and he knew the Sources were with him.

They didn't speak with words, but he felt their approval.

It was a warm acknowledgment that Thaxvarien finally saw Medeans without the tint of Aethari influence.

He was seeing things as they truly were, drawing his own conclusions, and that was necessary for what was to come.

But what was that? What did the future hold?

Again, it wasn't words that came to Thaxvarien but an instant knowing.

As if one or both sources had deposited information in his head as you might enter it into a cacher.

Thax suddenly knew that this wasn't about him being the next Speaker.

It wasn't even about either source. It was about the Aethari—their future and how he would lead them into it.

King. That's what the rebels wanted. Ironically, that's what the sources saw for him as well. But Thax didn't want to be a king. Monarchies were things of the past. He wanted his people to move forward and be free of such rule. The fucking Aethari Council was bad enough.

But absolute freedom would lead to anarchy. Chaos. As Thaxvarien stared at the Medeans, he knew he needed to bring their kind of unity to the sky cities. If he had to become king to do it, so be it. Still, he couldn't see how anyone would listen to him after Icara went to war over him.

And then Thaxvarien saw it in his mind—a scene far worse than Liria's nightmare.

Icara on fire. Plummeting to the ground.

A burning crater larger than a Nethren pit.

That was the future he had just averted merely by accepting who he was.

Thaxvarien knew he was Icara's only hope for recovery.

He felt anxious suddenly, an urge rising inside him.

He had to go now and address the City of Icara.

Thaxvarien needed to tell those who wanted change that violence was not the way to get it.

If he could reason with the rebel army and get them to stand down, he could also show those who clung to the old traditions that he was not a figurehead of a war but a true child of the sky—one who could bring the Aethari back to the surface of Para without grounding them.

Thaxvarien looked at Liria again. She'd want to go with him. He didn't like the thought, but he had to have faith in what was guiding him and in himself. He'd protect her. And Liri would protect him. They were stronger together.

A new revelation filled Thaxvarien's head. Holy shit. Stronger together indeed. He'd sensed that Liri was integral to his future, that this wasn't just about him, but it was so much more than he thought. She was so much more.

“Thaxvarien?” Evellor whispered.

Thaxvarien looked down at Evellor. “Just a little longer. He's fusing your wound now. We were lucky to have such a talented healer come to us. I believe Source is looking after you, my friend. You are not meant to die today.”

Evellor turned his attention to the healer. “Thank you, healer.”

“This is what I do,” the healer said. “Now, try to hold still. The delicate work is done, but I don't want to leave a scar.”

“Just one moment, healer.” When the healer lifted his flesh-sealer, Evellor looked back at Thax. “I'm concerned about Icara. You need to go.”

Thaxvarien snorted. It looked as if the Source of Magic could speak through Aethari in multiple ways.

“Thaxvarien?” Evellor scowled.

The healer got back to work.

“Sorry, I was . . .” Thaxvarien cleared his throat. “I was just thinking that my destra will not wish for me to go.”

“And her wishes are paramount?”

Thaxvarien lifted an eyebrow. “Did you just insinuate that I am controlled by my woman?”

“Not at all.” Evellor's expression contradicted his words.

“There,” the healer said and laid his tool aside. “Your wound is sealed. You will still need to be careful as the fusing settles. Don't do anything strenuous for at least a week.”

“I guess you won't be coming with me to Icara,” Thaxvarien said.

“Then you're going?” Evellor sat up.

“Easy now!” The healer hurried to adjust the medical table so that it braced Evellor.

“What's your name, healer?” Evellor asked suddenly.

“I'm Rell.” The healer grinned. “Like well but with an R.”

Evellor grasped Rell's shoulder. “How appropriate. Thank you, Rell. I am in your debt.”

“Nonsense. You were in need, and I'm trained to heal. There is no debt.”

“No, there isn't, because I will pay your fee,” Thaxvarien said, grinning. “But you also have my thanks, Rell. Can Evellor rest here for a bit?”

“Of course. I'll fetch him some water and bone broth. He will be thirsty from the blood loss.”

“Thank you,” Evellor said again, his stare following the healer.

They waited until Rell had left the room before resuming their conversation.

“You're going?” Evellor asked.

“I am. And you will be staying to face my father's wrath.”

Evellor grimaced. “I can't be held responsible for you doing the right thing.”

Thaxvarien snorted and tapped Evellor's thigh. “Rest up, my friend. You will need your strength.”

As he stepped into the other room, Evellor groaned, and Liri roused. It was as if she could sense his proximity. It wouldn't surprise Thaxvarien if she could. He could sense her. And there was a reason for that—a reason that went beyond their destiny bond.

Those blue eyes—the bluest on the planet—focused on him. And narrowed. “No,” Liria said.

“They might listen to me, Liri.” Thaxvarien crouched before her. “If there's even a chance that I can stop a war, I have to try.”

“Your parents are on their way here.”

“Evellor will be here to greet them and explain.”

She blinked. “Not me?”

“Do you want to stay here?”

“No . . . I, uh, I thought you'd ask me to.”

Thaxvarien bent his forehead to press against hers. “I would, if I thought you'd agree.” He leaned back to grin at her. “But you won't, will you?”

“No.”

He stood up. “Then we must hurry.” He held a hand down to her.

Liria looked down at her simple dress.

“You look beautiful, destra.”

She scowled at him. “I wasn't worried about how I looked. I'd prefer to be in appropriate fighting attire, is all.”

Thaxvarien chuckled. Of course, his destra didn't care about her appearance. Not at such a time as this. “We will stop at home so you may change.”

“You're going to Icara?” Braxis stood up. “Those people slaughtered your guards in their sleep. That is not the action of honorable men.”

“No. Which is why I executed them.” Thaxvarien went grim. “The longer I'm on the surface of Para, the more dishonor I see in the sky. But I believe my people can change. They've been misled. Lied to. This has led to discontent and fear. Something must be done before the bubbling cauldron explodes.”

“And you've been elected their hero?”

“Not hero. Mediator. At least, I hope I can mediate this.”

Liri squeezed his hand. “Mediation is merely another type of convergence. And you've become adept at unique convergences.”

Thax's chest lifted. Praise is always nice to hear, but coming from his destra, it was enough to make him foolish with joy. He needed to focus. “Thank you, Liri. Your faith in me gives me strength, but I also have faith that this is the right thing to do.”