17. Kailin
KAILIN
I had lost him many different ways in my nightmares, each death more devastating than the last. I thought I was prepared for this. I wasn't. The reality of saying goodbye to him is so much worse than anything I experienced in dreams.
—From the journal of Kailin Strom
"Iheard that Captain Odinah pulled Alar aside on the stairwell," Morek said between mouthfuls of stew. "Told him that General Lesten wanted to see him."
My spoon froze halfway to my mouth.
"Who told you that?" Shovia asked.
"Baila. She was coming down as Alar was going up. She said Odinah looked serious, but Odinah always looks like she's sucking on something sour, so that doesn't say much."
"Did Baila hear what it was about?" I asked.
"No. Just that the General wanted to see him.
Baila thought that Alar was in trouble for over-tightening the secondary harness on every flight, which apparently violates some regulation about causing his dragonia unnecessary discomfort or something like that.
She wasn't sure which regulation it actually was.
Not that I think she was right. That's the kind of thing that Odinah would have handled herself.
Not something the General would have bothered with. "
Morek was right about that, and the dinner that he'd improved by adding actual flavors to the bland food prepared in the officers' mess hall kitchen had lost its appeal because what I suspected was much worse than what Baila theorized.
I exchanged glances with Codric, who was sitting across from me.
We both suspected what this was about, and I saw my own fear reflected in his eyes. He'd been expecting this, maybe even before I had.
Codric understood the machinery of royal politics better than I did, and he'd known that this was coming from the moment he'd seen the letter that Alar's mother had sent, a letter with the Catonian royal seal.
Neither of us said a word.
"What?" Shovia looked between us. "What's that look for?"
"What look?" Codric returned his attention to his plate.
"The one you and Kailin just exchanged, like you two know something the rest of us don't."
"I'm just worried," I said. "Alar should have been done by now."
Shovia narrowed her eyes. She was too perceptive to be deflected that easily.
"It's probably something about the Elurian Federation," Morek said. "Alar is so by the book that I can't imagine him getting in trouble for anything serious enough to be called into General Lesten's office for it. We are just cadets. We are nothing to the General."
"You've gotten called in for unauthorized barrel rolls," Codric reminded him.
"You did what?" Shovia looked at Morek with an expression halfway between admiration and disbelief.
"Korthax dared me, and I couldn't say no to my dragon."
"You absolutely could have and should have said no. You could have been kicked out of the force!"
He grimaced. "I almost was, but I wasn't called to the General's office. Commander Ravel delivered the scolding along with a stern warning."
"How did you get away with just a warning?" Shovia asked.
"I explained that my dragon doesn't understand the word 'no,' and that he didn't wait for me to initiate the rolls. He just did them, and I hung on for dear life. I told Commander Ravel that if anyone should've gotten in trouble it was he."
Their banter washed over me. I pushed the stew around my bowl and tried to eat, but my throat had closed up. Morgateth's energy hummed in the background, steady and warm, and I drew on it to keep from falling apart.
The minutes stretched.
When the front door finally opened and Alar stood in the doorway, one look at his face was enough to tell me everything I needed to know and everything I'd been dreading.
He looked like someone had died.
I got to my feet, crossed the room, and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face against his chest and feeling the rigid tension in every muscle of his body.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I'm so, so sorry, Alar."
He stood still for a moment, then his arms came around me, holding me tightly. He pressed his lips to the top of my head.
"Thank you," he murmured.
I held him, my mind racing through the implications. Poor Alar was drowning in guilt and grief for not being there when his father had taken his last breath.
"When did it happen?" I asked, pulling back enough to look at his face. "Was it sudden?"
Something flickered in his expression. Confusion, then understanding. "My father is very much alive," he said. "And Elurion willing, shall live many more years."
I blinked. "So, what happened? Why do you look like someone died?"
He let out a breath that sounded like it had been locked in his chest for hours. "Something died today, but it wasn't my father."
I understood, and the realization emptied all the air out of my lungs.
I couldn't breathe.
The royal house of Catonia had finally forced the issue and had officially demanded Alar's release from the Dragon Force.
Elucia had no choice but to comply.
Alar was going home.
The two contradicting emotions rushing through me nearly tore me in half. Relief, bright and sharp and undeniable, because by leaving he would be spared the fate I'd seen in my dreams. And devastation, deep and cold and absolute, because the man I loved was about to walk out of my life.
"We need to talk," Alar said, taking my hand. He glanced at the others, who were watching from the table with expressions ranging from Morek's open concern to Codric's careful blankness that was masking his own devastation. "Please forgive us, but I need to talk to Kailin in private."
He was already sliding into his princely persona, using words that were too polite and smooth for a bunch of friends who had been through thick and thin together.
"You need to eat," I said as he led me toward our bedroom. "Morek improved on the stew so it's actually edible."
"I have no appetite." He gave me a weak smile and kept walking.
After closing the door behind us, he led me to the bed, and we sat side by side on the edge, our hands still clasped between us. The room was dim, lit only by the auroral light coming through the window and the reading lamp on my nightstand that I had forgotten to turn off.
"You've been summoned home," I said.
He nodded and told me about the formal demand for his immediate release and repatriation, submitted through all the appropriate diplomatic channels.
"Elucia can't refuse without endangering the alliance," he said. "I'm leaving tomorrow after breakfast. Elucian ground forces will escort me to the port of entry, and federation soldiers will be waiting for me on the other side to escort me safely home."
Tomorrow. Not next week, not in a month. Tomorrow.
"What did the summons say? That you are needed home because your father is dying?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I wasn't given the opportunity to read it.
I called my mother, though. Saphir took me to his office and let me use his private line to call her.
I asked her about Father's health, but she was evasive, which tells me that his so-called illness is political in nature rather than physical.
Something is happening in Catonia, maybe across the entire Federation. She wouldn't say more over the phone."
"But he's not dying."
"She said his death is not imminent. That was as much as she'd commit to."
I squeezed his hand so tightly that my fingers ached. "You'll be safe there. Away from Veynathei and the Elucian mountains. That's all that matters."
"Is it?" He turned to look at me, and his blue eyes were so full of pain that I had to fight the urge to look away. "Is that really what matters most to you right now? My safety?"
"Yes," I said with all the conviction I felt. "You are everything to me, Alar, and I've watched you die four times in my dreams. If you leaving means I never have to watch it in real life, then yes, that matters more to me than anything else."
He remained quiet, staring at our joined hands.
"What about Codric?" I asked. "Is he going with you?"
Alar shook his head. "The official request didn't mention him. They demanded the return of Prince Alaranthus Tekumuton the Fifth. Catonia can't demand his return as well without stretching the diplomatic protocols even further."
"So, he stays."
"He stays. He's one of the seven, and he's needed here." Alar sighed. "I need to tell him. I need to tell all of them."
I nodded. "It's going to be difficult for Codric."
"I know."
"You also need to tell Shovia and Morek who you are. Otherwise it will be difficult to explain why you are leaving, and Codric is staying."
"I intend to." He ran his free hand through his hair. "They deserve to hear it from me rather than through the rumor mill, which is probably already churning."
I forced a smile. "The rumor is that you've gotten in trouble, but I doubt that's going to last. By tomorrow, everyone will know that Cadet Alar Tekum is actually Prince Alaranthus Tekumuton the Fifth."
Alar closed his eyes and sighed again. "If I could wave a magic wand and make it all go away, I would."
"I know." I squeezed his hand. "So would I." I rose to my feet and pulled him up with me. "Let's tell the others together."
In the living room, we found Shovia, Codric, and Morek still sitting at the table, but the stew had been abandoned in favor of the strong caff that Morek had brewed.
The kind that could strip paint and keep me alert through a double watch.
Three cups sat on the table, steam curling upward, and the aroma filled the apartment with a bitterness that matched the mood.
Morek saw us first and was on his feet immediately. "I'll get your caff." He rushed into the kitchen and returned with two more cups. "You look like you need this." He poured the dark brew from the pot.
"Thank you." Alar accepted the cup and wrapped both hands around it but didn't drink.
Codric watched Alar with a serious expression, the one he wore when the charming facade wasn't appropriate and the real person underneath needed to be present.