CHAPTER 27 TYCHO
TYCHO
Despite Jax’s idea, it took him a while to get the forge set up, especially when we headed back to his workshop with the queen and discovered one crucial problem.
“I took most of my tools to Emberfall,” he said with a scowl. “I forgot.”
I thought we’d have to scrap everything right then and there. The queen’s immediate dismay was visible.
But Jax looked around the workshop and said, “Wait. Some of Da’s old things must be under here somewhere.” He dug through dusty piles of iron and wood until it all began to stick to his damp skin. Eventually he emerged with a hammer and a pair of pincers, blowing dust and grit off the metal.
The queen looked a bit dubious, and she glanced at me worriedly. We could clearly see that the hammer seemed crooked, and the pincers were rusty.
Jax saw her glance and smiled. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It won’t take long to make new ones.”
Sure enough, within minutes, he fashioned a new hammer like it was nothing.
Now, we’re standing back and watching as he crafts a new pair of pincers, too.
The rain is rattling on the roof overhead, and we’re all exhausted, but there’s something peaceful about the rhythmic smacking of his hammer, the scent of the smoke.
Jax moves with careful precision, and I remember the way he used to shift around with benches and ropes to help him maneuver without his crutches.
Now that he has the false foot, he doesn’t need any of it. He was always quick and efficient, but this is a new level. I can’t take my eyes off him.
Lia Mara must notice me staring, because she bumps me in the arm, then leans in to whisper, “He’s a useful one, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” I say, thinking of everything we’d been through over the last few days. “He is.”
“I knew it.” She leans in again and drops her voice. “I kept telling Grey to leave you alone about him. But you know how he is.”
That makes me snap my head around. Until this moment, I had no idea that Grey and Lia Mara had discussed me and Jax. When she and Grey separated, I hardly spoke to Lia Mara at all.
“You did?” I say.
“Tycho! Of course!” She bumps me in the arm again.
My expression must reveal that there’s no of course about it, because she frowns and looks away, then sighs.
“I keep thinking our challenges are simply our own,” she says. “But they’re not, are they?”
I turn those words around in my head, then frown. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“For so long, my conflict with Grey seemed . . . very private. Very solitary. Something that affected us. Only us.” She pauses and looks up at me. “But it wasn’t.”
I shake my head.
She sighs. Jax’s hammer swings. Plink- plink- plink.
“How is he?” she finally asks.
“Grey?” I say, like it needs clarification.
She nods, biting her lip.
“Absolutely destroyed,” I say. “Like his world is ending.”
She swats me on the arm.
I raise my eyebrows. “I spoke true.”
“Oh.” Her face falls.
And then, without warning, her face absolutely crumples.
I let out a breath. “Lia Mara,” I whisper.
Without warning, she falls against me. It’s mostly against my good shoulder, so I keep from making a sound.
Jax must sense that something has happened, because he looks up to discover the queen sobbing on my shoulder.
All good? he mouths.
I have no idea how to answer that, so I give a halfhearted gesture.
His eyes narrow and shift to my injury, which has well and truly soaked through my tunic at this point. It’s become a pulsing burn that’s impossible to ignore, but because it’s constant, I can push the pain aside.
Or maybe that’s just the herbs I added to my tea earlier.
He stops hammering and disappears into the house, though.
At the absence of sound, Lia Mara straightens. “Forgive me,” she says, swiping at her cheeks. “I shouldn’t be so . . . so . . .”
“Human?” I say.
She smiles through her tears. “You’re so kind, Tycho.” She swipes at her face again. “I’m never this emotional. I feel like I haven’t slept in days.”
Jax reappears. He has a belt and a kerchief. “You should sleep while you can, Your Majesty,” he says. He offers the kerchief to the queen, then gestures at my arm. “Here. I meant to fashion you a sling this morning.”
As Lia Mara dabs at her eyes, she looks at me over Jax’s shoulder.
Very useful, she mouths.
He’s very close, tugging the strap of leather around my neck, his fingers deftly wrapping it around my forearm to keep my arm immobile. Against my will, I blush.
Especially since he looks up, his hazel- green eyes meeting mine from an inch away. “Good?” he murmurs.
Silver hell, how I wish we weren’t about to start a war.
“Good,” I whisper.
He gives the strap one last tug for good measure. If Lia Mara weren’t standing right there, I’d hook my fingers in his tunic and pull him close.
But she is. So I don’t.
“Go,” he says. “Find the queen a bed.” He nods toward the door to the house. “You’re just distracting me out here.”
That makes my blush burn hotter, and when I look up, Lia Mara’s eyes are twinkling. I suppose that’s better than sobbing on my shoulder. But I see that her expression is drawn, her eyes red- rimmed, her hair lank where it hangs over her shoulder.
She’s likely more exhausted than I am, and that’s saying something.
“Come on,” I say gently. “You can’t fight the Truthbringers if you haven’t slept in days.”
After I show her to Jax’s room, she takes a seat on the side of the bed, but she makes no attempt to move any farther than that. She stares at the window.
“Should I stay?” I say.
She shakes her head— but a tear falls down her cheek anyway.
Then she says, “Am I making a mistake, Tycho?”
I draw a breath, then hesitate— but I suppose that’s answer enough.
The queen presses a hand to her eyes. Her shoulders shake, but she doesn’t make a sound.
After a moment, I cross the room to sit beside her. She immediately grabs hold of my hand.
Her own is trembling, so I grip tight. Then we sit, and we breathe, and we both try not to think of what’s at stake.
If we were in the palace, I would never be this close to her. We’ve been friends for years, but she’s been the queen for so long that there’s always been a bit of distance between us, just by virtue of her position— and mine.
When I was fifteen, when Grey and I so desperately needed to escape Ironrose Castle, it was Lia Mara who offered sanctuary. She risked everything to do it.
She’s risking everything now— because she loves him so very much.
If we don’t try to summon the scravers here with our magic, Karyl and Xovaar will go after Grey.
I know they will. I can feel it. He’s the most vulnerable right now, and they know it— especially since they know I’m not there.
And if they can take out Grey, it’s only a matter of time before they can eliminate the rest of us, one by one.
It’s the only reason they didn’t come after me when we fled the tourney.
But if we summon Xovaar and the other scravers here, we won’t survive. I can feel that, too. We’re too badly outnumbered. If we’re lucky, we’ll take some of them out, but we won’t win.
Months ago, when they first came after the king and queen, I thought we were lost. I was right here in this very forge, and Grey shouted to me, Tycho. If they’ve taken the royal family, they’ve taken Syhl Shallow.
Grey left to protect his family, and instead it seems he’s put both kingdoms at risk.
If we bring the battle here, we’ll be giving Grey time to prepare.
While possibly sacrificing ourselves.
And maybe that’s the best we can do.
“It’s not a mistake,” I say to her. My voice is low and quiet. “There is no easy choice here.”
“I’m going to give Sinna to Nora,” she whispers. “I’m going to send them away.” Her breath hitches. “I can’t . . . I can’t let them use my daughter against me again. I can’t watch them do that to Nora. Does that sound weak, Tycho?”
She’s talking about the first attack, the way they put a blade to Sinna’s neck— and the way a Truthbringer thrust a sword right through Nora’s body. “No,” I say. “It sounds like you’re protecting the children.”
The queen looks into my eyes. “Do you trust him, Tycho? Will he help us protect my husband?”
She means Nakiis. As always, when it comes to trust, I have no idea where I stand with the scraver.
But that would be the wrong thing to say in the face of all her emotion. I give her hand a squeeze. “He’s just as desperate as we are,” I say roughly.
It’s not really an answer to her question, but it seems to settle her, even if only a little.
“Jax was right,” I say softly. “You really should sleep.”
“Fine,” she says, and she must be exhausted, because she does lie down. “But only for an hour or so. We can’t let them gain too much ground.”
I nod. “I’ll see to it.”
When I’m by the door, she calls me back. “Tycho.”
I stop and turn, remembering how I found her on the night they lost the baby. Her skirts were stained with blood, and her eyes were red- rimmed, just like this.
“Your Majesty,” I say.
“I’m so grateful for your friendship.”
The words tug at my heart. “And I’m grateful for yours.” Then I close the door behind me.
When I return to the workshop, Jax is pulling the steel bolt from the forge.
The end is glowing brightly, and he lays it against the anvil, then smacks it sharply with his hammer.
Sweat gleams on his brow and threads his hair, but he’s intent, focused.
As I watch, the end of the bolt flattens.
He makes a notch with the sharp end of his hammer, and without missing a beat, he snaps it off. I’m transfixed.
Jax doesn’t glance up, but he says, “Tycho. You should sleep, too.”
“No. I need to relieve Mal and Sephran so they can get some rest. I’ll take sentry for a while.”
At that, he looks at me like I’m crazy. “Your arm is in a sling.”
“I can still use a sword.” Probably.
He gives me a look, then uses his pincers to heat the smaller piece. As it begins to glow, he says, “As soon as I’m done with these arrowheads, wait until you see what I do to your throwing knives.”