Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
Traditional nish thatsha betrothal vow:
Just as no echelon truly stands alone, neither will you.
MALACH
The house is alive. Staff are darting around, and the air is heavy with tension. It’s more than that, though. Beneath the fear and worry, there’s a layer of hope.
I see it in the half smiles the eluun angels wear as they work. It’s the look of someone who’s been gifted a beam of light after decades living in darkness.
Lyklan and I walk to S’lach’s study in silence, but our passage doesn’t go unnoticed. Several angels glance our way, averting their eyes once I notice them. The deference makes me uncomfortable. A tangible sign that the Fringes changed me.
Lyklan enjoys attention of another kind. Giggles, a few winks, and more blatant flirting than I’ve ever seen in the celestial realm. As I’m closing the study door, three angels sigh in disappointment.
“You’ve accumulated some admirers,” I say drily.
I expect him to retain his usual formality, so when he grins and reveals more of his teeth than I’ve ever seen before, I’m stunned.
“Someone had to keep their spirits up.” He winks, and I do my best not to stare. Purity isn’t a thatsha requirement, but the matching process is sacrosanct, and it’s unusual to hear about anyone sleeping around. I had heard rumors about the lower nish, but Lyklan?
His face falls as he reads my silence as disapproval.
Rolling his shoulders back, Lyklan stands at attention, but something is off.
His wings are stowed, even though there’s plenty of room in here for him to—Oh.
My stomach twists. He’s tucked them in on my behalf. I don’t know how I feel about that.
“I’ve been a poor friend to you,” I mutter.
Lyklan frowns. “Are you well?”
“I’m fine, but I’ve come to realize my expectations for you were neither fair nor honorable.”
His brow furrows, and he takes a step toward me. “Your expectations were as they have always been.”
I toss my hands up. “That makes it even worse, doesn’t it?
Your family works for mine. I didn’t consider how my actions impacted you.
My goals were mine; your allegiance was mine; and Celine was mine, too.
I dragged you away from your family and forced you to live in an unfamiliar realm without once asking if you were okay with it. ”
“That wasn’t—” Lyklan sighs heavily. “You’re too hard on yourself. You always have been, but no one questions your honor.”
“Maybe you should.” I stride behind the desk. My judgment rune mocks me from the wall, devoured by S’lach’s silence. “Perhaps if someone had questioned me sooner, some of these trials could have been avoided.”
“As I said, you’re far too hard on yourself,” Lyklan says.
I hum, grabbing the raised lines of silence and giving them an experimental yank. Nothing. My face twists into a scowl. I should have known better. The engineering tier isn’t known for creating things that don’t last.
“Shall I fetch a mallet?” Lyklan’s voice is level, but I know he’s teasing me.
“Are you sure you can you manage it?” I drawl. “I last asked you for pen and paper and you brought my wife by mistake.” I smile to show him I’m not angry, and he shakes his head.
“I’m not sorry,” he says. “Celine deserved the chance to offer you the same level of loyalty you’ve given her all these years. Some of us don’t get it right the first time . . .” His eyes cloud, and I know he’s thinking about S’lach’s reign of terror, and the things he did to survive.
“Your family, are they safe?” I shift my weight, suddenly terrified that even more innocents will be caught in S’lach’s ruthless pursuit of power.
Once he realizes he can’t enter the estate he considers his, he’ll turn on anyone who remains unprotected.
My family is too powerful for S’lach to attack directly, but Lyklan’s doesn’t have the same advantage.
He nods, but a shadow crosses his face.
“I moved them,” he says. “They’re no longer within his reach.”
I face him fully. Dark circles hover beneath his eyes from too many sleepless nights, and there’s a tightness around his mouth I’ve never seen before. He’s exhausted.
“When?” I whisper. “When did you move them, Lyklan?”
He lifts his chin. “After I sent for Celine.”
My stomach sinks, then flips. “I hate that you had to do that.” I won’t do him the disservice of pretending it was unnecessary.
Lyklan’s expression softens. “And I hate that you lost your wings. I should have been faster, braver, something more. He could have killed you, and I would have let it happen.”
“His actions aren’t your responsibility.”
“They aren’t yours either, yet we’re both standing here apologizing while preparing to kill him. What does that say about us, Malach?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I want to say something wise.
Something a leader should. I want to tell Lyklan I don’t blame him anymore.
I want to assure him his family will be able to come home soon.
That his parents and his little sisters will be able to live their lives without the draconian measures S’lach enacted over the seven nish, but I don’t know if it’s true.
We might lose, and only the gods know what it says about us that we’re willing to try, anyway.
“I’m not sure,” I whisper. “I used to be certain, but now . . . all I know is that I want him to pay, and I’m willing to sacrifice to make it happen.”
Lyklan nods once, solemnly, and draws his sword. “Please excuse me. I believe I found that mallet you were searching for.”
I step aside, and Lyklan brings the sword down on S’lach’s rune. He hacks at it, cleaving chips and chunks away until it’s unrecognizable. I should stop him. He’s dulling his blade. The banging will draw attention. It’s a waste of his energy, which he’ll need.
There are any number of things I could say to stop him.
But I keep my mouth closed.
And I don’t look away.
Eyes wide and unblinking, I watch as Lyklan destroys S’lach’s trophies, unwilling to miss even a second of the destruction. When he’s done, they’re unrecognizable, and more importantly, illegible. Deep gouges mar the wall itself, and nothing remains of the runes but disconnected lines and dots.
“There,” Lyklan says, his breath coming in heavy pants. “Now you can begin again. Make your judgment mean whatever you’d like.”
Gods alive and dead, I want to believe him.
They’re all looking at me.
Studying me while I eat. Luca’s glances are subtle, but Alistair’s stare is unblinking. The only one not watching my every move is Riven, who’s far more focused on monitoring the entry points of the room.
I put my fork down and raise my head. “I’m not going to fall apart,” I say firmly.
Luca raises one eyebrow. “We don’t think that.”
“Don’t you?”
“No.” Ciprian takes a sip of his drink. “You’re Malach. We know you’ll be fine.” He says it like it’s obvious—like the sky is blue and Vegas is hot.
Celine squeezes my knee under the table. “It’s been weeks, Malach.”
If they don’t think I’m going to break down, I guess they’re curious.
“It’s over and done with,” I say. “I want to put it behind me.” Maybe one day I’ll want to discuss the things that happened in the blood-spattered white room with lights that never turned off, but that day isn’t today. I have to face him again tomorrow. I need to be focused and strong.
Celine squeezes my knee again and nods. “I’m here if you change your mind.”
My mouth is painfully dry. I force myself to take a sip of the wine in front of me. “He’ll hit you with everything he has,” I tell her. “Are you ready for that?”
She leans back in her chair.
I take the opportunity to look at her, really look at her, and my heart swells. On the surface, she’s a beautiful woman sitting in a nice house, but if you go deeper, there’s so much more to discover.
She’s a survivor forced to return to the home she fled, and now she’s surrounded by things that remind her of a past steeped in pain.
The strength it took to come back here .
. . She did it for me, and I’m not sure how to feel about that.
Flattered? Gutted? She saved my life, and I know she loves me, but I failed her.
There’s no denying it when her presence here is physical proof.
“I’ve avoided him long enough,” Celine says. “I’m older now. Stronger. I’m not the kid he abused anymore, and I’m ready to give him a real reason to hate me.”
“If he can’t get past us—”
“He won’t.” Celine’s fingers clench around the lip of the table. “I won’t allow it.”
I nod. “If he doesn’t get past us, he’ll involve the council.”
“Are they all in his pocket?” Alistair asks.
“Pretty much,” I say. “He uses his word to strangle them.”
“How will you combat that, baby?” Luca furrows his brow.
“Easy.” Celine stands up, tosses her napkin on the table, and lifts her chin. “I’ll tell them the truth.”
Ciprian smiles. “Easy to remember. I like it.”
It sounds simple, but it won’t be. A fight is coming, and my body knows it.
The buzzing of my skin is offset by the aching hollow behind my shoulder blades.
I’m missing two limbs. I have to accept what that means: no aerial assaults, fewer options for defending against dive attacks, and adjusting to a new center of gravity.
My heart is beating too fast, but I can’t panic.
I’ve got the training. I’ll adapt. I always do, don’t I?
Stay calm. “We should rest.”
No one argues with me, and we return to Celine’s room.
I didn’t recognize it when I woke up there earlier because S’lach had erased all signs of her.
The soft lavender bedspread, replaced with a plain white blanket.
The drawings from her art phase—terrible, all of them—stripped from the walls.
I remember the day she hung them. She couldn’t stop giggling, calling them her reminders to stay humble.
Too colorful. Too alive. He erased her from this room, and now he’s trying to do the same thing to the lower tiers. For S’lach, nothing is more important than control. Every day he drives his boot deeper into the realm’s neck. One day, we’ll all run out of air. One day—
Celine grabs my hand and squeezes.
My thoughts quiet, and my blood heats. Warmth radiates out from each of her fingers. Banishing my chill, it spreads until I’m almost uncomfortably hot. She’s here, by my side, and I’ve never wanted anything more.