Chapter 39 #2
I grabbed my empty scabbard, pretending not to see the creases deepen on his brow as I tied it to my waist. I was grateful he didn’t push me on that, either.
Though I was doing a fine job of putting on a happy face and actually meaning it, there were some dark corners I hadn’t fully crawled out from. Perhaps I never would.
Luther tucked me into his side as we left the palace and joined in the merriment.
At Eleanor’s begging, I talked him into having a drink, which he only agreed to if I did the same.
One drink turned to two, then three, and before long, our eyes were gleaming and glassy, and both our smiles waved like victory banners across our cheeks.
The Ignosians conjured a giant bonfire while a pair of Guardians retrieved simple wood-carved instruments from their tents.
Music and drinks flowed freely as the unlikely army danced into the night.
I curled up by the fire, warmed by the flames and the ale in my belly, and watched in amusement as Taran poured Lily increasing larger glasses of bubble wine.
Luther glowered nearby, plucking each one from her hands.
“She’s old enough to drink,” Teller complained, flopping down beside me. “Luther should let her have fun.”
“You should go tell him that,” I said. “Men are legendarily reasonable when it comes to other men plying their little sisters with booze.”
He glared; I smirked.
“You two seem better,” he said. “Did you take my advice?”
“I did.” I bumped him with my knee. “Are you going to take it yourself?”
His eyes returned to Lily, who was now holding a full glass in each hand and hotly reprimanding an abashed-looking Luther while Taran looked on and grinned.
“Go steal her away,” I urged. “Take her to the forest and do something scandalous that your very modest, well-behaved older sister would never do.”
He scratched his head. “That doesn’t really leave me many options . . .”
I shot an orb of Meros water at his face. He wiped it away and grinned. “At least it wasn’t Montios rock.”
“Go,” I said with an encouraging shove.
He nervously climbed to his feet, though his smile fell as he watched Lily across the bonfire, where she had turned to chat with Lana and some other mortal healers.
“Go,” I yelled, “or I’ll use Faunos magic to turn you into a frog.”
“That’s not how Faunos magic wor—”
“May I join you?”
A look of panic flashed between our eyes at the sight of our mother walking up.
I shot to my feet. “Actually, uh, Teller was just leaving, and, um, I have to go see—”
Teller dropped to the ground. “I’m staying. You should go with Diem, she looks lonely.”
He smirked; I glared.
“Actually,” she said, hurrying to sit beside him, “I was hoping the three of us could talk.”
“Not without Taran,” I rushed out. “He’s part of the family now. He would hate to be left out.”
“Oh, not at all. This was his idea.” She nodded to a spot across the bonfire, where Taran was motioning wildly for me to sit, followed by an animated thumbs-up.
I bit down on my sigh as I reclaimed my seat.
“Look at you,” my mother said to me, her smile warm but faintly wary. “Never thought I would see my Diem in such a dress.”
My face burned. All the confidence I’d felt earlier vanished like smoke. I tugged awkwardly at the fabric. “Well, my leathers were dirty, and, um . . . it’s just a silly—”
“You look beautiful, sweetheart. That color suits you.”
“Oh. Thank you.” I glanced at Teller, who looked gleeful at my obvious discomfort.
My eyes narrowed. “I bet the Princess has some lovely gowns I could borrow. What do you think, Tel? Do you like Lily’s dresses?
Do you like the one she’s wearing now, or would you prefer Lily in something . . . less?”
His cheeks flushed as red as a blood sun. I hate you, he mouthed.
“Diem, stop teasing your brother. And Teller, don’t say those words, not even in jest.”
My mother’s scolding tone hauled me back across months and miles—to a little cottage on the marsh, and a loving family of four gathered around a rustic wooden table, laughing and sharing stories of our day.
It was so normal. Like nothing had changed.
But everything had changed.
I pulled back from her reach. “Was there something you needed to discuss?”
She sighed. “I know you’re both upset with me. You have every right, but we are family. Andrei would want us to end this fight and make up.”
My fists squeezed as I battled another wave of rising barbs, but my temper quelled with one look at my brother. He was watching me, his eyebrows somehow managing to both furrow in fear and rise with hope.
Teller was superior to me in every way that mattered.
He was smarter, kinder, calmer, more well-behaved, more practical, easier to trust. But for reasons unknown, whenever the world turned uncertain, it was my reckless, unpredictable voice that he relied on to tell him everything’s going to be okay.
I wasn’t sure that it would.
I wasn’t sure that it could.
But for him, I had to try.
I drew in a slow, deliberate breath, filling my lungs with the smoky evening air and imagining it as all the resentment swirling around inside me.
When I blew it out, I told myself to let go.
My mother had her flaws, but she was not selfish.
She was not cruel, nor unthinking. She loved us deeply, and everything she’d done was to protect those she cared for.
And war was a dangerous game. Any battle could be my last.
Or hers.
I took her hand and clasped it between mine. “I forgive you, Mother.”
“Oh, Diem,” she breathed. “This is not the life I wanted for you. I prayed that by the time you discovered what you were, the world would be a different place where being mortal or Descended wouldn’t matter.
I grieved when I realized I could not give that to you.
” She gave a choked laugh, thick with emotion.
“I should have known you would simply create that world yourself. I am so very proud.”