Chapter 44
FORTY-FOUR
CAIRN
The door to the meeting room opens, and Therin is framed in the doorway. He leans against the frame, that familiar smirk pulling at his mouth.
“Miss me?”
Before I can reply, he steps aside, and I see the three people behind him.
The dark-haired human female he took when I went to the palace for Alleria, Serath, and …
Caelum.
My eyes return to the human, then move to Therin. I raise an eyebrow.
“I figured she belonged with her mistress,” Therin says. “I’ll find her and get this one settled.”
Then he’s gone, and my attention goes back to Caelum.
I’d known they were coming. I could feel it through the threads linking us together. But knowing, and seeing … well, that’s completely different. And I wasn’t entirely certain what I would find when Caelum arrived.
He’s still thin, clothes hanging loose on a frame that used to be solid with muscle. He was treated the same way we all were—fed just enough to keep the body breathing, but never enough to give it strength. But he’s walking. His eyes are open. And when he sees me, his mouth curves.
“You look terrible.”
There he is. Somewhere under the gauntness and the shadows, there’s still the male who once told me my battle strategy was ‘adequate at best’ while we were surrounded by enemy forces.
I cross the room and grip his shoulder. “So do you. Come. Sit.”
“I’ve been on the back of Crasos for two days. I think I’ll stand for a while.” Caelum moves to the window, and looks out.
Of course he won’t sit. Caelum never did anything the easy way.
In all the centuries I’ve known him, I don’t think he’s ever taken a suggestion without arguing about it first. Even when we were young and stupid and convinced we knew everything, he’d push back against orders just to see if he could. It drove the elder fae warriors crazy.
It drove me crazy, as well.
I’d forgotten how much I missed it.
Serath settles into one of the chairs, with a sigh that comes from somewhere deep inside. I exchange looks with her, and she smiles. There’s more color in her cheeks than when I left. More life in her eyes.
“How are you?”
“Stronger every day.”
“That’s good.”
“It helps, having him back.” She glances toward Caelum. “Having something to focus on besides my own head.”
“Stop looking at me like I’m going to shatter.” There’s an edge to Caelum’s voice, something that sounds almost like the male he was before the Sealing. “I’ve had enough of that from Serath.”
“She worries. We all do.”
“I wasn’t the only one who spent centuries in a cage, Cairn. Yet I’m the one being treated like I’m made of glass.” There’s no real irritation behind his words. “I survived the Dell. I survived the iron and the dark and everything they did to break me.”
“I’m not going to argue with you.”
“That would be a first.”
Despite everything, my mouth twitches. “Don’t push it.”
His head turns and his eyes meet mine. For a moment I see everything he’s crawled out of. The darkness. The drowning. The long slow suffocation of being trapped inside his head while his body kept breathing.
I know that place. I lived it in myself—awake, aware, and unable to do anything but endure. Caelum had it worse. He couldn’t even reach for the rage to keep himself warm.
“I’m not … I won’t pretend I’m all the way back yet.” His voice drops. “Some days are hard. There are times when I think I’m still in the cage, and I can’t remember how to breathe. But I’m trying.”
“That’s all we can do.”
“Is it?” He turns back to the window. “Therin told me about the plan for Ivylock.”
I let him change the topic without comment.
If he wants to talk about war instead of what was done to him, I understand that too.
War is simpler. Cleaner. You know who the enemy is and what needs to be done.
The other thing, the slow work of putting yourself back together after someone has spent centuries taking you apart, that’s harder.
“I want to be part of it.”
“You will be.”
“I mean it, Cairn. I’m not going to sit in a room while everyone else fights. I’ve spent centuries being nothing. I’m done with that.”
“I heard you the first time. We move in six weeks. Use the time.”
“To do what?”
“Whatever you need. Train. Sleep. Remember who you are. Who we are.”
His mouth curves slightly. “That I can do.”
I move to the corner of the room and pour three drinks. Serath takes hers with a small smile, then I go to stand beside Caelum, handing him the goblet.
“Therin told me the human female is still here.” He takes a sip of water. “I remember her sitting with me. I couldn’t move or speak, but I could hear her.”
Of course Therin told him. Therin tells everyone everything, usually with embellishments.
“It was strange. All of you came to talk to me, and I couldn’t reach any of you.” He shakes his head. “The only way I can describe it is like being at the bottom of a well, hearing sounds from above, but unable to climb toward them.”
I stay quiet, waiting for him to continue.
“But she was different. She talked about herself and what she’d done.
” His lips twist. “She was drowning too, in her own way. And something about that … hearing someone else struggling to breathe …” Another pause.
Another sip. “I don’t remember what I said to her.
But it was different after that. I knew there was a surface and I could reach it if I tried hard enough. ”
The human who came to hunt me helped pull one of my Guard back from the dark. The same human that the Nightwild magic now wants for its own. The irony isn’t lost on me.
The door opens again and Kaelith steps through. He stops when he sees who is in the room. For a moment, nobody moves. Kaelith just stares at Caelum like he’s seeing a ghost. Which, in a way, he is. The last time they saw each other, Underhill was still open, and the world hadn’t learned to cage us.
Then he’s moving across the room, and pulling Caelum into an embrace. Serath rises from her chair, and he reaches for her too, pulling her in until the three of them are tangled together.
“When the bonds went dark—” His voice is rough.
“I know.” Caelum grips him back. “We’re here now.”
Kaelith pulls back, eyes moving over Caelum’s face, taking in the changes, the gauntness, the shadows that weren’t there before.
“You look like death.”
“I’ve spent more time closer to it than I’d like.”
The door opens again, and Therin, Vessara and Sorel crowd through. The room turns to chaos. Arms reaching, voices overlapping, Vessara laughing and crying at the same time as she tries to hold onto both Serath and Caelum at once. Sorel just stands there, grinning, until Caelum pulls him in.
I stand back and watch.
This is what they took from us. It wasn’t just the freedom or our magic. It was this. The simple act of being in the same room with those you’ve bled beside. Kaelith and Caelum fought back to back. Vessara and Serath trained together. Sorel taught both of them how to hold a blade.
And the humans took that from us. They stole it with iron and cages, and the belief that we’d forget what we were to each other.
We didn’t forget. The bonds holding us together might have been cut, but the memories remained. We’re not whole. I don’t know if the others are lost or caged. But we’re more than we were.
Eventually the chaos settles. Serath and Vessara sit close together, catching up in quiet voices.
Therin sprawls in a chair, tankard of ale in one hand, because of course he found ale within minutes of returning.
Caelum sinks into a chair near him, resting his head against the backrest. He closes his eyes. The exhaustion shows on his face now.
Kaelith meets my gaze.
Is he all right? The question in his eyes is clear.
I give a half-shrug. He’s trying.
When Vel slips in and takes her usual position by the wall, her eyes go straight to Caelum. She argued for ending his suffering. She thought it was crueler to keep him alive than to let him go. I wonder what she’s thinking now, seeing him sitting here.
She catches me watching and lifts her chin slightly. She won’t apologize for what she said, but there’s something in her expression that might be relief … and regret.
“Now everyone is here …” I turn to look at Therin. “Report.”
“Everyone is ready to move. If Kaelith is ready, the first group can travel within the week.”
Kaelith nods, moving to the table. “We can handle it. Sorel will leave tomorrow to oversee things. We will have everyone safely away from there within three weeks.”
I nod. “Any news from your contacts?”
“Yes. Today. I’ve had confirmation that Ivylock rotates their guards every six weeks.
There’s a scheduled changeover due in three weeks time.
I suggest we target them coming out of the preserve.
That way we know for sure the guards we take have inside knowledge of the preserve.
” He taps the map. “The road narrows about half a day out from Ivyock. A good place for an ambush.”
“We will need to scout it in advance.” Caelum opens his eyes. He’s been listening, taking it in, and learning the shape of this new war we’re fighting.
“Agreed. Anything else?”
Kaelith shakes his head.
“Then let’s leave it here for tonight.”
Therin is on his feet before I’m finished talking. “I’m ready for bed. Some of us have been in the saddle for days.” He claps Caelum on the shoulder as he passes. “Don’t disappear on us again.”
“I’ll try not to.”
“Caelum, your room is four doors down from here on the right. Serath, you’re in the one directly opposite him,” Vessara says. “I had them prepared as soon as Therin told us you were here.”
They all filter out. Kaelith walks out with Therin, followed by Vessara and Serath. Sorel and Vel leave together.
And then it’s just me and Caelum.
“You should rest as well,” I say.
“Probably.” He doesn’t move. “But I’ve been still for a long time. I’m not quite ready to go back to that yet.”
“Fair enough.”
We sit in silence for a while. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s the silence of two people who have known each other long enough that words aren't always necessary. I’ve sat like this a hundred times before.
Before battles. After them. In the long watches of the night when sleep wouldn’t come and talking felt like too much effort.
“I know Vel wanted to mercy-kill me,” he says eventually. “I heard you fighting over it.”
“She thought it was the kinder option.”
He laughs, a rusty sound. “Of course she did. She doesn’t do well with emotions. Easier to cut them off at the source.”
“She means well.”
“I know. But you disagreed with her.”
“I wasn’t ready to give up on you. None of us were.”
“Stubborn, the lot of you.”
“Look who’s talking.”
Another laugh. “Fair.” He turns his head to look at me, his gray eyes catching the firelight. “But what if I hadn’t come back?”
“Then I would have been wrong.” I meet his gaze. “But you did.”
“I almost didn’t.” He looks down at his hands. “There were moments when I wanted to let go. When the dark felt easier than trying to find my way out of it.” He falls silent for a moment, then looks at me again. "Six weeks. And then we take Ivylock."
"Six weeks."
“I’ll be ready.”
I look at him. I’ve watched this male argue with anyone and everything. I’ve watched him laugh and fight and rage and grieve. The humans tried to destroy that. But he’s here, talking and laughing, and pushing back against being treated carefully.
“I know you will.”
“Maybe I should try and rest.” He pushes himself up from the chair, and walks to the door. When he reaches it, he pauses and turns. "It's good to be back, Cairn. Even if 'back' isn't what it used to be."
"No. It isn't." I meet his eyes. "But we'll make it something new. And you’re too stubborn to let it defeat you."
His smile is real this time. “So I’ve been told.”
“May the stars guard your sleep this night, Caelum.”
“And you, Eldráfn.”
The door closes behind him.
I stay where I am, staring into the flames. The Nightwild magic hums at the edge of my awareness—seven threads where there used to be twelve.
But seven is more than three. And three was more than one.
We're rebuilding. Piece by piece, thread by thread.