Page 66 of They Call Me Blue

“There’s nothing we can do to protect our daughter from them, but that doesn’t mean we won’t try. Arden is resilient. She will survive.”

—Clara of Ashwood, Former Starra’lee Priestess

Status: Deceased

D awn crests the horizon and the rain clouds part, revealing a sky dusted in soft shades of pink and saffron yellow.

Songbirds chirp overhead, and the sun’s golden rays illuminate our walking path as Giara and I near the Aegis River.

Neither of us speaks. It’s never been our strong suit, and now years of time and circumstances have driven a wedge between us.

I asked her to save Fenris. It’s my fault she got captured.

The truth of that weighs heavy on my shoulders.

Gravel crunches underfoot as we near our meeting spot, both of us dressed in clothing we stole off elgrew corpses along the way. The pants dig marks into my hip bones—a problem I’ve never had before—but they’re functional enough. At least they’re dry. Giara’s leathers fit better, though.

“It’s just around that bend,” I tell her, pointing toward the wall of spine trees.

She holds her arm out to stop me. “Are you alright?”

The question shouldn’t make tears well behind my eyes. So, I blink them away and pretend it didn’t. “Are you?”

Our mutual silence is answer enough.

Giara wraps her arms around me and pulls me tight, squeezing me like she’s trying to snap a rib.

My eyebrows rise in surprise, but I hug her back, so fucking relieved to have her safe and home, away from Kariss.

Almost no one goes there and returns, but we did.

We made it. We’re alive and mostly whole, despite everything.

“Thank you for saving me,” I say, coughing to clear my scratchy throat.

“Just returning the favor.” She lets go of me, taking the warm solidness of her body with her. “That was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I know. I’m pretty awesome.” I shoot her a cheeky grin, though I doubt it reaches my eyes. Everywhere aches, and although we’re leaving there victorious, we’re not leaving without scars—both seen and invisible.

My palm no longer throbs, but I keep staring at it, this immense emptiness inside me.

I don’t miss him—because missing him would be the actions of a psychopath—but he’s been a constant presence in my life for five years. I know him almost as well as I know anyone in my squad, and now he’s gone, and it’s . . . odd.

“Lyrick?”

He doesn’t answer.

I should be relieved, but bile rises to my throat when I think of that bloodied rock, his body lying prone on the forest floor. He deserved it. He drugged me. He tried to rape Giara. A moment earlier, I’d been willing to stab him myself, and yet . . . “Lyrick?”

In my periphery, Giara watches me stare at those thirty-eight tooth marks. I shove my hand into my pockets so she won’t ask about it.

The river burbles up ahead, and we squeeze past a row of spine trees to reach its gravel bank.

Both of us move sluggishly, our injuries slowing us down.

Giara doesn’t ask about the blue blood that stains my crotch, and I don’t ask about her broken nose or shattered front tooth.

It’s easier not to. Leading the way, I guide her over sharp rocks and shallow water to reach our campsite.

There’s no campfire or tent—nothing that could lure elgrew to us—but avra vines wind around trees to mark the route.

As we near the thinnest part of the Aegis River, my heart feels full for the first time in years.

It’s not just Cheevy who’s waiting for me, but Fenris too.