8. EVERYONE IS SAFE
Chapter eight
EVERYONE IS SAFE
Ornella
M y body felt impossibly heavy, like there was lead in my veins, and my head was buzzing like a hive of bees which made me feel nauseous and uneasy. But beneath all that disorientation was a thumping adrenaline, a pulse of fear, that made me want to leap out of my listless flesh.
“You are alright, Summer, I have you,” murmured a familiar voice that put me instantly at ease even as my heart panged with instant longing for him.
Sage .
I breathed in impulsively, and his scent hit me hard, flooding me with immense calmness. I realized I was in his arms, pressed against him, and he was carrying me. His steps were unhurried and calm, so I knew we were finally out of danger.
“Tell my mother that we returned. Everyone is safe,” he advised someone else.
Everyone is safe. Everyone is safe. Everyone is safe.
“Sage…” I tried to speak, but his name came out in an incoherent mumble as if my tongue was swollen. I was desperate to fight off the lethargy threatening to drag me back into unconsciousness, but I was losing the battle.
Sage pressed his lips to my forehead, lingering there until I eased again, and it was all the reassurance I needed to slip back into sweet oblivion.
The next time I awoke, it was to the strangely sweet and woody scent and loud crackling of cedar burning.
Heaving aside all the blankets on me, I jolted upright and was instantly assaulted by the frigid wind. Not the dry cold that I had been dealing with in the Suridin Valley but a truly damp and miserable cold.
“Summer,” Sage spoke calmly, and I whipped my head around to where he was sitting just behind me.
He was dressed in simple leather and cotton clothing that was a bit tight on his strong, broad frame. I would have known it was borrowed even if I hadn’t remembered that his fire magic burned away his clothes. I could not help noticing how the firelight made the wine-red strands gleam brighter amidst the rest of his dark hair. Or how the unruly length he’d combed back with his fingers now fell rather sensually back into his eyes as he sat forward to lift the blankets back up around my shoulders. His amethyst eyes were almost crystalline in the glow of our fire.
My eyes slipped away from his beautiful features and snagged on Ciaran who sat on the other side of Sage with his arms slung over his knees. Those tabby orange eyes watched me so closely, and I wasn’t sure if I imagined the new wariness in his gaze or if I was still disorientated.
I jumped again when something moved right next to me but quickly eased when I realized it was only Pyrope. The auburn vargr had curled around me with her wolven head resting next to the cloak that Carrick had given Sage to wear which had been serving as my pillow. I had also shoved aside one of her enormous, feathered wings that she’d used to cover me along with my blankets, so she folded it back to her side. I saw Serafin raise his head from where he lay at Sage’s back, and the golden vargr belonging to Ciaran lay right next to him.
Everyone is safe. I had heard Sage say that, but I could not help needing to confirm it for myself.
I glanced around us quickly to orientate myself and saw it was dark. The starry sky was clear with no signs of the magic cloud the Fuath mage had conjured in order to move their vile army under the cover of darkness. I had come to appreciate the canopy of youthful oaks and maples in the prime of their autumn glory that surrounded the Aes Suri village. Now, I gazed up into the sensible, shadowy boughs of the ancient coniferous trees that had graciously made room for the aes sídhe at my request.
We’d made it to the mountain plateau with the rest of the aes sídhe villagers. I could see many fires gleaming through the trees, and some animal-hide yurts had been erected, but mostly the fey were exposed. I supposed that was alright for Autumn fey when the fire magic burning inside them allowed them to warm themselves, but I was a Summer dryad. Even with the fire blazing so close to me, I was chilled down to my bones. Not frozen, I would not die, but I was certainly not comfortable.
“What happened?” I asked, looking at Sage who was watching me worriedly with those striking, purple eyes. He hesitated, his gaze sliding cautiously to Ciaran who leaned forward as if to hear better. “Where is Carrick?”
“My father is with Rian. They are alright,” Sage said when my eyebrows condensed in concern. “Rian was… He needed someone to stay with him.”
“He almost killed us.”
“Yes,” Sage admitted reluctantly. “You stopped him.”
“And I would still like to know how,” added Ciaran with a frustration that told me that this had been a point of contention while I was unconscious. Sage confirmed that suspicion when he turned to frown in exasperation at his brother rider who ignored him.
“I… Water magic,” I shrugged, trying not to be too obvious when I focused my attention on repositioning my blankets around me in order to avoid their eyes.
“Do you take me for a fool?” Ciaran demanded, and he shifted as if he meant to stand and confront me.
I braced, lips lifting in a defensive snarl, but it was Sage sitting up between us in a subtle but powerful way that made both of us ease back. Ciaran’s orange eyes flickered between us before he huffed reluctantly.
“I think we deserve some answers,” he mumbled.
Sage agreed, I could tell by the way his eyes appraised me curiously.
“Rian is the most powerful user of fire magic I have ever seen,” he began calmly, raising his eyebrows at me. “He would not be diffused by average water magic.”
I abruptly felt tired again as I turned away from him, giving him my back as I looked at Pyrope. She shifted excitedly, eager for my attention, and I could not help reaching out to run my fingers through her soft, red fur as her tail beat against the ground.
I trusted Sage, so I wasn’t sure why I even still felt an impulse to keep this from him except that it was a deeply ingrained habit for survival. I was afraid he might look at me as differently as everyone else did, but after the battle, there was no way to keep the truth from him for long.
“The only other person who could diffuse Rian—” Ciaran began again.
“We will talk about it later,” Sage interrupted him, attempting to respect my aversion to the conversation.
But they had my attention again, and I twisted around to look between the two males.
“No, tell me,” I blurted, and then snapped my mouth shut in embarrassment to have betrayed my interest.
Ciaran narrowed his eyes at me while Sage cocked his head with interest.
“Aodhan,” said Sage simply, although Ciaran glared at the back of his head. He would have tried to leverage the information for what they wanted to know about me.
I ignored him as I shook my head in dismissal of their revelation.
“But he was not…” I began, and then I trailed off.
“Was not what? Speak up!” Ciaran demanded of me impatiently, earning himself another glare from Sage.
This time I bristled and narrowed my eyes firmly on the other rider.
“I owe you nothing,” I assured him, the final word forced out between my teeth. “I saved your life in spite of your very recent attempt to end mine so be thankful.”
Ciaran was shocked by my denunciation, but I turned to face the fire directly again. I slung my arms over my knees and pulled a blanket up like a hood over my head as if I could ward off their questions.
“Are you hungry?” Sage asked me, and he retrieved a cloth that had been folded around some purple berries when I nodded. “And you are cold,” he noted.
“I am always cold here,” I muttered, unable to curb the sharpness of my tone.
“Would you like me to come sit with you?” he offered, and I nodded, knowing how he would use that delicious fire magic of his to warm me.
Sage shifted forward to sit right behind me and next to Pyrope who nuzzled his arm. I allowed him to pull me closer between his legs and against his chest just like he did when we were riding. He entwined our fingers so he could warm my hands, and I melted back fully against him when I felt his warmth seeping into me. I drew my legs tight against my chest, so that I could be as close to him and the heat and safety he generated as possible.
“What is the plan?” Ciaran asked, sounding agitated. He was a male of action. He needed direction.
Sage had been thinking the same thing, I could tell by the way he breathed out a sigh against the blanket that was still tented around my head.
“In the morning, we will portal these people the rest of the way to the late season settlement up the mountain,” Sage began. “Then we should fly to the Aes Mirr to warn Eive and see if they can spare any aid. I think perhaps all the villages should be moved up the mountain together the way Darragh suggested weeks ago,” Sage admitted.
Ciaran snorted with amusement.
“The Sua will be stubborn about that. They will not easily abandon their lands,” he tried to warn Sage, but he seemed calmer now that he had a task to think about.
“Were our losses heavy?” I asked hesitantly, unsure if I even wanted to know the answer. My mind could not help conjuring all the names and faces of the aes sídhe I had grown to know in the village.
“They were… not as great as I feared they would be,” Sage assured me. I felt him press his head against mine in silent appreciation and acknowledgement of my efforts to defend and heal his people during the battle.
“Is someone on watch?”
“A rotation has been set for the night,” Sage answered with none of the cynicism with which Ciaran snorted at my question. Obviously I had not meant to insinuate that they were not capable, I was just orienting myself.
“And is your sister alright?”
“She is still in labour,” Sage told me, his voice tight with concern. “But I understand it is progressing well. Despite being a little early,” he added.
“I could help her. There were more injured fey—”
“She has Verin, my mother, a healer, and a midwife there to assist her, Summer. Rest your magic.”
“But she must be in pain—”
“And you are drained. I can feel it,” Sage maintained, his voice deepening more sternly as he tightened his arms around me. His chin rested on my shoulder so his mouth was closer to my ear. “You have done enough, Summer,” he added much more gently. “Now rest.”
I closed my eyes and melted compliantly into him, grateful for him beyond words. I could not recall the last time anyone had put my needs before others. When was the last time someone had prioritized me and my needs? Sage had every fucking right to demand answers from me about my magic, but instead, he was giving me space to process things and make the decision to come to him all on my own. He was respecting me, catering to the fragile, tentative trust that I had begun to feel in him.
And it made me want to cry in appreciation for him.
“Sleep more if you want,” he offered, his voice still pitched low so it was just for me.
“I slept all day. You need to sleep.”
“I… took a great deal of power from Rian. But I will lay down with you to keep you warm.”
“You took power from him?” I asked, turning my head a little toward him so his breath warmed my cheek.
“I did. It is the only reason I was able to get us here,” Sage revealed.
“What happened exactly after I passed out?”
Sage was quiet for a while, the crackle and pop of the fire drowning out the quiet murmur of the people at all the fires around us.
“There is not much to say. I syphoned enough magic from him to weaken him,” Sage said finally.
“But I thought you said that everything is consensual about the bond between riders,” I reminded him in alarm.
“It is. Usually,” he amended.
“So you can override one another’s shields. I doubt he just let you take his power. So consent is just a nicety.”
Sage was quiet for another long time.
“Yes,” he said finally, and then paused again as if he were searching for more words. “The possibility never… It never occurred to me that it could be done. Not until you were dying, and Rian would have…” He trailed off.
These fucking fey. How respectful they would have to be of autonomy that such transgressions of molestation and abuse did not even occur as a possibility to them. Sage trusted his brothers so implicitly that the concept of their given consent was not merely an illusion of the concession of power, the granting of permission, but was like a law of nature to their people. It had taken a threat against my life for him to even consider abusing the bond in that way to stop his cousin.
“You… betrayed him,” I realized a little belatedly once I was able to look at the situation beyond its implications for me being a rider. Beyond this new knowledge that my power could be hijacked by another rider.
“Yes,” Sage confirmed, and I could hear the shame in his voice now that I was listening more closely.
For me. He broke that trust between brothers for me .
Fuck. Fuck .
I had sat up a little in alarm after his disclosure about overriding the consent of other riders. Now I leaned into him again and squeezed his fingers threaded with mine in an acknowledgement of what he had done. Sage merely lowered his head to rest his forehead against the back of my shoulder without a word, and I swallowed another sudden urge to cry.
How the fuck was I supposed to choose between this male and my duty to protect Amira if it came to that?
“I will hold the portal tomorrow,” Sage spoke up more loudly for Ciaran to hear. “Once everyone is made safe up the mountain, perhaps we should return to the village to see if there is anything left to salvage.”
“But what if the Fuath army is still there?” I asked.
“It’s unlikely. Rian’s fury probably sent them scurrying back into their holes,” Ciaran snorted.
“They do not tend to linger above ground in daylight,” Sage added more soberly.
“But they had a mage who conjured darkness for them to hide in,” I reminded them.
“If he survived Rian, and if he had supplies to remake such a ward, then we will not land,” Sage insisted, and I tilted my head curiously. He noticed my look and sighed. “There was something of great importance to my people that had to be left at the standing stones,” he explained.
“What are the standing stones?”
“A node,” Sage clarified, and my eyes popped open.
“There was a node in the village?” I gaped in surprise. “Is that where you gave blood?”
“It was,” Sage answered with a solemn nod.
Nodes were a rare phenomenon where the ley lines of the Tithriall came near enough to the surface that they were visible to our eyes. I had only ever experienced one other location, a cave in Sumarra, where the purple veins of the Tithriall flowed through the walls and ceiling and made the watery cave glow. I still dreamed of the place.
“And what did you leave behind?” I wanted to know.
This was clearly a more sensitive subject, I could tell by the way Ciaran averted his eyes from me.
“Our people have only one written form of language. Our ancestry,” Sage advised, and I recalled the reddish tattoos on his chest and arms that were similar to the ones displayed on his mother’s and sister’s faces. “We attempt to keep record of our familial bloodlines on tablets that lean against the standing stones.”
“It would be nearly a thousand years of lineage lost,” Ciaran added, his voice anguished even as his lip curled resentfully at the thought.
I supposed that was worth the risk. I did not find much value in such records, but I could understand how people who genuinely loved their family might.
The men continued to discuss the logistics for the next day while my eyes grew heavy again. Tucked against Sage and his warmth, it was not long before I was falling asleep again, and I did not wake until he shifted to lay me down beside the fire. I think he meant to leave me there, but I immediately turned toward him in my sleepy stupor. One leg slipped over his thigh and between his knees to entwine with his, and I pressed my face into his chest.
My last coherent thought was a sense of relief when I felt his tension dissipating as he decided to stay with me, reclining instead, and wrapping me up in his arms.