Chapter 41
ALARYK
I stayed back, leaning against the rebuilt fencing around the landing field, as I watched the Elthika circle overhead.
Amaia was trying to keep herself back, but her jittery nerves were seeping into the space around her.
They won’t land if you’re in the way, I told her through the bond.
Then I’ll get squashed, she snipped back. Even still, I stifled a grin when she scooted back a few paces, her neck craned up at the sky like a child watching a star storm. Anticipation was coursing through her, so much that she trembled with it.
Other Grymians had gathered to watch too, though they had the good sense to stay far back from the landing field since there were so many Elthika.
Myzalla and my selected riders for the journey landed first, rattling the earth.
My second-in-command looked tired from the trip, but when she met my eyes, she inclined her head, telling me all was well.
Amaia’s gaze was rapt on a single Elthika, carrying not one but six, all tucked safely behind the rails of the transport harnesses.
Brune was standing close to me, and I cut him a look.
Ethrisha was standing beside him, her arm tucked around his waist. Amaia had helped heal the worst of his injuries shortly after she’d woken.
Though I could only use my ability on those with heartstone magic, I didn’t need to root around in his mind to know that he was relieved to see his parents.
He, too, must’ve thought the threats against them, the Dothikkar’s retaliation, would be severe.
And so did his family, if they thought leaving their home behind was the safest option. I wondered what Myzalla had told them, but I could only guess the truth.
The Elthika landed.
I felt a surge of emotion well up in my chest when I watched Amaia sprint toward them. Both hers and mine. I rubbed at my heart, feeling the ache of it as I straightened along the fence line. Brune broke away from Ethrisha to approach.
“Amaia!” called a female voice, watery and loud. “Amaia!”
“Lomma!” she cried back.
A Dakkari female, who looked very much like my Amaia, came skidding down the Elthika’s wing, having scrambled over the seats. Though her mother’s skin was darker, her body smaller and thicker, there was no mistaking their resemblance in their features.
The swell of love, of relief, of joy was so bright as it filled Amaia as she raced toward her mother and embraced her so readily, so fully.
And I stamped down the bond, because it was a moment best shared between them.
I waited, holding it back, observing the scene in front of me as Brune’s parents descended next.
His father was nearly as wide as him, his mother tiny in comparison to both males.
Brune wrapped his arms around them both, his mother’s hand resting on his back, running up and down. His head sank toward them.
Amaia’s father descended next. An older male with graying hair, who Amaia went to more slowly than her mother but with just as much emotion, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. She got her height from him, I noticed. They were nearly eye level with one another.
The last to leave the transport Elthika, save for the rider, was Kiron.
Amaia looked up at him as he navigated down the wing, his eyes darting to the village beyond before they refocused on his sister.
There was a slump in his shoulders, many words that went unspoken as the two siblings regarded one another. I remembered the hurt that Amaia had revealed to me when it came to her relationship with him. How abandoned she’d felt, how he could’ve taken better care with his family.
But blood was blood, I knew.
And despite everything, I knew in that single moment as Kiron’s expression crumbled that he’d had no idea what had awaited Amaia here. If he had…he never would’ve asked this of her. He would’ve rather died.
It was what I had needed to see.
Amaia went to him. Her head nestled into his neck as his arms came around her shoulders.
I let go of a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. Behind me, the nosiest of the Grymians were watching as well. I wondered what it was that they’d report to their friends and neighbors.
I knew that they talked about Amaia around the village.
About Brune, too, but mostly Amaia. Stories and opinions about her were varied.
Unsurprisingly, most still had a favorable view of her, seeing the theft of the eggs as coercion by her Dakkari kinsmen, an impossible choice, especially with Brune’s life held in the balance.
Most had seen her when I’d brought her back to Grymia that stormy day.
I’d had to race from the landing field with her enveloped in my arms, unconscious and bleeding.
Most had gasped, faces paling, horrorstruck at what she’d endured.
The news of the eggs hadn’t broken until the next day, but by then, everyone had known what state she’d been in. Brune too.
And so, it wasn’t as it had been, as it could’ve been. Amaia’s choice that day might always follow her, as Myzalla had warned—not just here in Grymia, but throughout all of Karak. But…the Grymians had seemed to make up their minds. And they’d stood behind the Dakkari they had once mistrusted.
Some, of course, like Gethrin’s mother, still spread vicious lies whenever they could. But most merely listened, knowing she was only a grieving mother while shaking their heads the moment she turned her back. I’d watched it too many times to count.
My people’s acceptance of Amaia had lifted a weight from my shoulders because it only meant her life here would be easier.
I didn’t want her fearful every time she left the hatchery.
I didn’t want to worry that she’d be spit on or called a disgusting name or forced to keep her head down after everything that she’d already had to experience.
It was enough.
Grymia had seemed to decide the same, especially given her actions the night of the Elthika attack. How many lives she’d saved, how tirelessly she’d worked, even at her own expense.
I felt the prickle of her familiar gaze, and when I turned back toward the landing field, I saw she was looking straight at me, her arm around her mother’s waist, her hand in her father’s.
And I’d almost asked her to give them up, I thought, thinking of how foolish that would’ve been. To remain here, she would’ve had to leave them behind.
I approached her and her family, and we met halfway across the landing field.
As I neared, I saw her mother’s reaction to me. A widening of her eyes, the shadow of doubt and fear flickering across her expression. I wondered if she’d been outside the East Gates that day when I’d come to collect the Dakkari. I wondered what she thought of me now.
I inclined my head to all of them, meeting the eyes of Kiron when I lifted my gaze, knowing he definitely remembered me. Brune led his family forward as well until they hovered behind Amaia’s.
“I am Alaryk Arn’dyne,” I greeted, my eyes going to Amaia, whose eyes were filled with warmth and unushered tears. “I know your journey has been long, and you must have a lot of questions, all of which we will address after you’re rested. But for now…”
Amaia smiled, and I released the bond, letting her flood back in. I ushered out a sharp breath of relief when I felt her.
“Welcome to Grymia,” I finished.
A new home and a new beginning for them all.
Later that night, I stood outside the quiet dwelling where Amaia’s family were situated.
A large one, with three separate rooms, to comfortably accommodate all of them.
They’d been resting for most of the day, having bathed and slept.
Amaia had just prepared dinner, and while she’d asked me to join them, I’d thought it was best if she had the time with her family.
So they could talk freely about everything that had happened without a stranger looming. I got the sense that Amaia’s mother was furious with Kiron, but she was determined to smooth it over.
Amaia took my hands. “You’re sure you don’t want to stay?” she asked.
I knew how much her family meant to her. This was what she’d looked forward to. I knew how worried she’d been, thinking that something might’ve gone wrong when Myzalla was retrieving them out of Dothik. Every day that had passed without sight of them had only made her fears more pronounced.
So today had been a relief. A joyous one. Her family was here, reunited. I didn’t want to stand in the way of that.
“Be with your family,” I told her. “You should sleep here tonight. I know how much you’ve missed them.”
She frowned, biting her lip in indecision. “You’re sure?” she asked.
I smiled and tilted her chin up to mine. The sun had long set, and Grymia was quiet, smoke rising from chimneys and muffled talk and laughter floating out to the road from various dwellings.
I pressed a long, lingering kiss to her lips.
“I’ll have you for the rest of our lives, mariss,” I told her. Her breath hitched, and I felt how much she liked that sentiment, spreading like ink through the bond, permanent and certain. “I can be patient.”
“Kakkira vor,” she whispered, pressing another kiss to my lips, and I held her against me.
“Go,” I murmured, nudging my chin toward the door.
I waited until she scurried up the steps, throwing me an appreciative smile over her shoulder before she disappeared inside.
I tilted my head back toward the sky, feeling the contentment swell through Amaia and feeling Samryn resting within Ny’am. They were well…and so I turned down the road, heading back to my dwelling to sleep.
But…well past midnight, when the last embers in the hearth glowed dully, the front door creaked open and a chilly breeze pushed inside with it.
I was awake in a flash but then relaxed when I realized who it was.
“What are you doing here, mariss?” I murmured, my voice husky from sleep, still half held in dreams.
Amaia slipped into our bed after she closed the door and toed off her boots. Her flesh was cold, her feet like ice, but she was only wearing a nightdress, so I wasn’t surprised.
Her hands spread over my chest, and I grunted, capturing her palms to warm them in mine. She crawled against me, cuddling close, nuzzling her face into the crook of my neck and breathing me in.
“What’s wrong?” I murmured, turning so I could hold her, my arms coiling around her.
“Nothing at all,” she whispered against my skin. “This is where I want to be at night. I belong with you.”
The sudden swell of affection and love I felt bloom was either hers or mine. Or a combination of both.
I tightened my arms around her, tucking her closer as she sighed in contentment.
“Sleep, mariss,” I murmured into her ear.
“Bossy,” she whispered back. I smiled into the darkness.
But I felt her drift off mere moments later while I held her. I knew that this was exactly how I wanted every night of my future to end too.
I would demand nothing less.