Chapter 29
Altair
After slitting Hadar’s throat—which was one of the highlights of Altair’s extremely long life—he and Okab fled Athusia.
He teleported them out of the city with no specific destination in mind, and had to bite back a laugh when he, again, appeared by the crater in which he first fell.
Okab looked between Altair and the hole with an inscrutable expression before immediately transporting them to a small inn.
“Where are we?” Altair asked.
“A few days outside of Istoria by horse. I’ve been here before—there’s not much star traffic. We should be safe for a bit.”
Altair nodded, his mind still reeling from the brief visit to the crater where he’d first met Iyana. “Won’t the innkeepers be suspicious of us, then?”
“Like I said, I’ve been here before. We’ll be fine. You have a lot to explain, though, brother.”
He squinted his eyes at Okab. He wanted to dig into exactly why his brother had been there before, but Okab was right—Altair owed him an explanation. After all, Okab had just committed treason for him, no questions asked. Love for his brother swelled in his heart.
Once they’d secured a room, Altair told his twin the entire story. When he was finished, Okab ran a hand through his hair, stood, and walked out without a word. He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of bourbon.
“So, the Aztia is your astalle,” Okab said, pouring two glasses of the amber liquid. Altair nodded, slinging the drink back. Okab refilled it. “Why in the nine hells would you go through with Rigil’s plan?”
“I didn’t have a choice—”
“That’s horseshit, and you know it. Of course you had a choice.”
“Rigil was in my head, Okab. I tried. I did. I asked him multiple times if there was another way. If I could tell her about the plan since I had gained her trust, but he began to question me, and I had to stop. I wanted to run away with her, but he would have found me anywhere I went.”
He stared into the glass of alcohol, wishing it would burn away his regrets, or at least the memories of how Iyana felt beneath him.
“Sure, they would have been in your head, but, Altair, you’re a fucking idiot.”
Altair frowned at his brother.
“What could they have done about it?” Okab continued.
“Huh? They needed the Aztia’s magic to fall, and if you hadn’t stolen it, you could have simply told her what not to do and avoided this whole mess.
Then, you’d still be with her, she wouldn’t be looking at you like you’re a monster, and she wouldn’t be with another man. ”
Altair curled his lip. Fucking Sullane.
Okab pointed at him. “You fucked this up, Altair. You. You can’t be angry with her or this other man for your own mistakes. I still don’t understand why you went through with this.”
“You and Tara would have still been in the sky. I couldn’t just leave you there.”
His brother’s face softened. “Oh, Altair. I wish we had a way we could have communicated with you. We both would have told you we were fine with staying in the sky if it meant your happiness.”
Tears flooded Altair’s eyes, and he tried to hold them back, but he’d never been able to hide in front of his brother. Okab wrapped him in an embrace, and Altair sobbed into his shirt, his half-full glass of bourbon forgotten.
He spent the next several days holed up in his room, allowing himself to grieve a future he now realized would never come to pass.
Okab came and went, sometimes leaving for several hours at a time, but always returning with food and booze.
Altair was so grateful for his brother’s presence that he didn’t even ask what he was doing with his days. The curiosity was there, though.
Eventually, Okab was able to drag him downstairs for dinner.
It was there, as he stared into a bowl of soup as if it would give him the answers he sought, that he felt her.
She was there—at the inn. Altair dragged his eyes upward and the sight of Iyana walking through the inn’s front door took his breath away.
She was resplendent. Even travel-weary and disheveled, Altair could stare at her for an eternity and never tire of the sight.
The group didn’t see them sitting in the shadowy corner.
Instead they went about their business, asking for rooms and dinner, and then they sat at a table on the opposite side of the dining room.
They seemed more subdued than Altair was used to—especially Kaz.
He briefly wondered what could have happened to finally shut her up, but then he reminded himself that he didn’t care.
Okab was silently observing. Altair knew his brother would be aware of who had walked into their space, since he’d be able to recognize their magic, but he only glanced at Altair out of the corner of his eye and resumed eating his soup.
Altair watched them for hours, his soup turning cold.
He mentally debated going over there to say something, but when he shifted to do just that, his brother glared at him like he was crazy.
So he settled back down, content to observe.
Iyana seemed better than the last time he had seen her.
So did Talon and Zane, but Sullane was sitting there quietly.
He’d steal little glances at Iyana when she wasn’t looking, then hurriedly engage Kaz in conversation when she turned to him.
Trouble in paradise, then.
A small grin grew on Altair’s face. Maybe things between Iyana and Sullane weren’t progressing like he’d thought they were. Maybe he still had a chance.
Close to midnight, Iyana stood, stretching and yawning.
She bade everyone goodnight, and when Emmeric pushed his chair out to join her, she shook her head.
Altair heard her tell him he could stay there for a bit longer, have fun with their friends.
She only wanted to take a quick bath. For a moment, it looked as if he would follow her anyway, but decided against it. He frowned as she walked away from him.
Altair stood on silent feet, not wanting to alert the group to his presence. A hand gripped his arm, bringing him to a halt.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Okab warned.
Iyana continued to climb the stairs, and Altair felt the need to go after her; felt it deep in his bones. He shook off his brother’s hand and left without replying.