Chapter Nineteen
M y ass hurts more than I care to admit.
So, when we finally come to a halt in a small passing near the base of the cliffs, wedged between a line of trees, I practically leap off the saddle, desperate for reprieve.
I stretch my limbs, pressing my hands into my lower back and extending my chest out.
I pull my foot back, then my other foot, and am bending down to touch my toes when a shadow drapes over me.
I flick my eyes up to find Kiran standing in front of me, his arms folded across his chest as he watches me with a cocked head. And of course…he is smirking. “Soo,” he coos. “How was the ride?”
I rise, arching my brow. “Fine.” The curve in my brow deepens. “Why are you so curious to know?”
He drops his arms from his chest and shrugs. “No reason.” Kiran shoves his hands into his pockets, turns on his heels, and whistles merrily as he walks toward a gnarled, towering tree that looks different than all the rest. “You can come out now,” he drawls.
As if appearing from nowhere, two cloaked figures emerge from the shadows. They each place three parallel fingers over their hearts and drop their heads.
And it’s not like I needed something to confirm their high status, but that gesture certainly just did.
I startle at the low voice rippling from beside me. “Report.”
My eyes dart to the side and find Draven standing only a few inches away from me, his arms crossed against his chest.
When the hell did he even get there?
One of the figures removes his hood, revealing unruly, brown, curly hair, and a face full of freckles. “Here?” he questions, shifting a little on his feet. His eyes bounce to me before returning to Draven.
Gray appears then, coming around from the other side of Kiran’s speckled horse. He stands on the other side of me and glances down at me the same moment I glance up at him, offering me a warm smile before turning his attention to the brown-haired man. His features stiffen into focus.
“Did you find what you were assigned to scout for?” Draven elaborates, his voice not unkind but also not warm and friendly, either.
“We did,” the man answers.
“And?” Draven presses.
“I believe we’ll be able to return to Bathara tomorrow morning.” His eyes are filled with the ghosts of unspoken sentences.
I glance at Draven and see his eyes narrow—with thought or suspicion, I can’t tell. Regardless, he exhales through his nose and says, “Good,” before walking back to his stallion.
Kiran glides over and takes up residence where Draven had just stood. “Lyra,” he says cheerily. “I’d like you to meet our fellow traveling companions.”
The two step forward, and the remaining hooded figure draws back the cloth from his head, revealing black hair, a slender face punctuated by prominent cheekbones, and full lips.
“This is Griff,” Kiran says, sweeping a hand toward the man with the unruly, brown hair. “And this is Meiji.” He motions toward the man with the delicate features. “Meiji is a healer. Griff is an aether-wielder. The two essentials to any scouting party.”
I dip my chin. “Nice to meet you both. I’m Lyra Izacalli, and this is my traveling companion, Gray.”
Griff struts forward, ignoring Gray, and takes my hand, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lyra Izacalli.” He lifts his brown eyes and locks them on mine as he smiles .
My brows jump up to my hairline at the bold display.
Meiji steps forward and shoots him a pointed look. “Ignore him,” he says as if he’s had to explain this a thousand times before. “Griff is a shameless flirt. But he’s all bark no bite.” He slaps the back of his head. “Reign it in for once, would you?”
Griff rubs at the spot. “Who said that wasn’t me reigned in?”
Meiji rolls his eyes before stretching his hand out to me. “It’s nice to meet you, Lyra. Please, if he continues to pester you with his hollow charm, do let me know.”
Griff clicks his tongue. “My charm is not hollow.”
Meiji folds his arms and chuckles. “It most certainly is. You’re like an untrained pup.”
“You always act like you’re so much older than me.” Griff lifts a brow. “When, in fact, you’re not.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is maturity,” Meiji supplies through a mocking smile.
Kiran rubs between his brows and sighs. “Must we always bicker?”
Meiji claps Griff on the shoulder before strutting over to stand next to Kiran. “When you bring a pup along, it’s bound to bark.”
Griff glowers at them. “Again,” he retorts dryly. “Not. A. Puppy.”
Gray clears his throat, gaining everyone’s attention. “I presume this is where we’ll be camping for the night?”
“It is,” Kiran confirms. “You are free to do as you please for the rest of the evening. We’ll depart for the academy in the morning.”
I tilt my head. “If we have an aether-wielder, why not just have him open a portal now?”
Meiji grins. “Oh, do tell them, pup.”
Griff rolls his eyes and sighs haughtily. “I’m drained,” he grumbles. “Even if I wanted to” —he shoots Meiji a look— “though it’s not like we’d be leaving anyways , I wouldn’t be able to open a stable portal.”
Curious, I ask, “Does a portal always have to be stable?”
Griff frowns at the question. “Sure, if you want to arrive wherever you’re going with all of your limbs.”
“It’s a fair question for her to ask,” Meiji says while sliding his pack off his shoulders, rummaging through the contents.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” Griff counters.
I glance to the side, realizing that, at some point, Kiran walked away without anyone noticing.
He and Draven are both eerily good at moving quietly.
Gray leans down, keeping his eyes on the still-bickering Griff and Meiji. “Perhaps we should take this opportunity to train.”
I watch them a moment longer, a wrinkle in my brow. I look back to Gray. “I’m in.”
“Not with that wound you’re not,” Meiji interjects suddenly, sliding his gaze to me. “I’m mending you before you do anything.”
My brows lift, impressed by how quickly he detected my injuries. Is that why he started rummaging through his pack?
“I’ll find you when you’re finished,” Gray assures me.
Meiji frowns. “Your injuries are just as bad as hers, if not worse. I’ll be mending you, too.”
I shoot a look at Gray, who attempts to stifle his wince. He didn’t even tell me he was injured. Knowing him, he was probably going to keep it to himself until we reached Bathara.
“Come on,” Meiji says, rising from the ground and shouldering his pack. “Follow me.”
Meiji is quick and efficient, mending Gray first.
The moment he pulls Gray’s shirt from his body—revealing claw marks stretching along Gray’s side, the three jagged grooves red and angry despite being cleaned—it is an act of will not to slap Gray upside the head.
Meiji lets out a low whistle. “If you waited any longer, you probably would’ve had an infection invade your body.”
I remember Draven’s words.
The last thing we need is to be slowed down by an infected wound.
Had he somehow known about Gray’s injuries? I assumed he was just talking about the marks on my shoulder…
Gray glances at me through the sides of his eyes, and I fold my arms over my chest, pelting him with my stare. He sighs, his shoulders slumping forward.
Meiji chuckles quietly at the exchange. His fingers move nimbly as he pours his magic into the ripped seams of Gray’s skin, stitching it back together with glittering threads of gold. After a quick few minutes, he pulls back from Gray’s healed flesh and claps his hands to his thighs.
“Alright,” Meiji says. “All finished. Try not to mess up my work anytime soon, okay?”
Gray picks up his shirt and laughs, nodding. “I’ll do my best,” he promises. “Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary.” Meiji turns his focus onto me. “Come on,” he drawls, waving me over. “You’re next.”
I plop down where Gray just sat, turning my chin over my uninjured shoulder. “I’ll come find you when I’m finished.”
Gray’s lips curve gently as he dips his chin. Then, he scuffles over to the other side of the trees, leaving me to undress and unwrap my bandages with privacy. Meiji inspects my wounds, somehow not making me uncomfortable in the slightest—the mark of a truly skilled healer.
“Not bad,” he decides. “Gray attended to your wounds?”
I nod my head.
“Does he have any experience with healers or medicine?”
A warm smile tugs at my lips. “He’s the son of a Gardner.”
Meiji’s brows skip up. “Ah. That’ll do it, then.”
He gets right to work, his fingers surprisingly warm and soft. We sit in a passing silence before I grow bold enough to ask, “So who are you guys, exactly?”
Without looking up at me, he hums a laugh. “I take it that neither Draven nor Kiran disclosed that information to you?”
“No,” I answer. “No, they did not.”
He hums again, this time a bit louder and rougher. “Then I suppose they probably have their reasons for that.”
I resist the urge to wrinkle my nose at his answer. Instead, I draw in a breath and flick my eyes down at Meiji. “Well, can you tell me who you are? ”
He huffs a soft laugh, amused. But his brown eyes meet mine, and they crinkle with warmth.
“I am Meiji Himari, son of Lord Himari. I am an instructor at Bathara, and a former member of their Philator aggregate. A proud healer, and a scholar at heart, I am also an older brother, and a man who’s debilitatingly in love with a woman named Nuha.
I plan to make her my wife once we return from this trip, actually.
Then, I will hopefully be a husband, and perhaps someday, a father. ”
“A pretty future,” I muse, my voice distant.
“The future is like a blank canvas waiting to be painted. Pick the colors, choose your brush, and then shape it as you please. If your future is ugly, then I do not feel pity for you. You paint your picture and no one else.”
I tug at my brows, his words familiar to previous thoughts of my own, even if spun differently. “Do you really believe that?”
He shrugs. “Anyone who doesn’t is simply looking for an excuse to place blame anywhere but on themselves.” Meiji stills, thinking. “Though, I don’t suppose I blame them for it. It’s easier that way for most people.”
“Hm,” is the only noise I’m able to muster as my mind drifts.
He slides his eyes up to me. “And who are you, Lyra Izacalli?”
A good question.
“I am the daughter of a Gardner.”
“Is that all?”
“No,” I answer, my brows pinching with thought. “But I…I think I’m still deciding on the rest.”
Meiji hums. “The greatest questions require the greatest answers.” Something like encouragement rests within the creases of his warm gaze. “Great answers take time to find.”
The corner of my lip tugs with a gentle smile.
He claps his hands on his thighs. “There. All finished.”