Exiles #2
She wanted to argue, to find some flaw in the plan, some reason to reject it. But she couldn’t. The logic was sound, however much she hated it. Summerbright was their best option, but she could not be the one to walk through the enclave’s gates.
“Fine,” she said. “But we stay close. Whatever bolt-hole we find, I want to be within running distance if something goes wrong.”
“Agreed.” Rion squeezed her hand. “We’re not splitting up any more than we have to. This is just … a division of labor.”
“That’s a very diplomatic way of saying I’m too dangerous to be useful.”
“You’re never not useful.” His voice was soft, meant only for her. “But sometimes the most useful thing is staying alive to fight another day.”
She had no response to that, so instead she held his hand and tried to make peace with a plan she didn't like.
They were packing the last of their supplies when the knock came at the guesthouse door.
Darian answered it, his hand resting casually on the sword at his belt. But his shoulders relaxed almost immediately, and he stepped aside to reveal Morena standing in the doorway.
She looked older than she had when Lark first met her. Tired. The lines around her eyes deeper, her silver hair escaping from its knot. She wore a determined, calm expression that Lark was beginning to recognize as a family trait.
“I heard you were leaving,” Morena said. “I wanted to say goodbye.”
Lark rose from her packing and crossed to the door. The others melted away, giving them space, finding tasks in other rooms that suddenly required their attention. Even Noctis left, following Rion with a backward glance that might have been knowing.
“News travels fast in Springhope,” Lark said.
“News travels fast everywhere when it involves visitors being expelled by the council.” Morena’s voice held a hint of bitterness. “I argued against it, for what it’s worth. Told them they were making a terrible mistake. They didn’t listen.”
“You weren’t there. In the chamber.”
“No.” An emotion flickered across Morena’s face. Regret, perhaps. Or shame. “I thought my presence might make things worse. That they might see my advocacy as … compromised. Family ties clouding my judgment.” She paused. “I was wrong. I should have been there. I should have spoken.”
“Would it have made a difference?”
“I should have tried anyway.” Morena reached out and took Lark’s hands in her own. Her grip was soothing, the hands of a healer. “I wish I could do more. I wish I could come with you.”
“Why don’t you?”
The question surprised them both. Lark hadn't meant to ask it, hadn't even known she was thinking it until the words emerged.
Longing, regret, duty, all passed across Morena’s face in rapid succession.
“My patients. My work. The people here who depend on me.” She paused.
“And perhaps I’m more of a coward than I’d like to admit.
I’ve been hiding in these mountains for almost forty years.
The thought of leaving, of facing what’s out there.
If Duskwood were to find me and realize that I can … ”
“Morena. It’s all right. You’re certainly not a coward.” Lark squeezed her aunt’s hands. “You survived. You built a life. That’s everything.”
“It’s not.” Morena’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Promise me you’ll be careful. Promise me you’ll come back someday, when this is over. I just found you. I’m not ready to lose you again.”
“I promise.” The words felt inadequate, too small for the importance of the moment. “When this is over, when Duskwood is defeated, I’ll come back. We’ll have time then. To get to know each other properly.”
“I’d like that.” Morena pulled her into an embrace, fierce and brief. “More than I can say.”
When they separated, Rion had reappeared in the doorway. He waited until Morena turned to acknowledge him before speaking.
“I have a favor to ask,” he said. “If you’re willing.”
“Name it.”
“We need to get word to Autumncrown. To let them know what’s happened here, what we’ve discovered, where we’re heading next.” He paused. “The mountain birds, the Peakswifts, can they reach the lowland enclaves?”
“Some of them. The messengers maintain routes to most of the major cities.” Morena nodded slowly.
“I can arrange for a bird to carry your message. The council might not approve, but …” A ghost of a smile crossed her face.
“The council has made its position clear. They can’t object to a private citizen sending correspondence. ”
“Thank you.” Rion pulled a folded piece of parchment from his pocket.
Lark realized he must have written it while they were packing, already expecting the need.
“For Councilor Helena Thornwood, Autumncrown. It contains everything we learned in the archive, everything about the transmutation of dark aetheria. If we don’t make it to Summerbright, at least the information won’t be lost.”
Morena took the parchment and tucked it carefully into her pocket. “I’ll send it as soon as I can. Before the council can think to stop me.”
“You could get into trouble for this,” Pippa said, emerging from the back room. “For helping us and going against the council’s wishes.”
“Probably.” Morena shrugged, a gesture that reminded Lark achingly of her mother. “But some things are more important than staying out of trouble. My sister understood that. It’s time I followed her lead.”
They left Springhope as the sun was beginning its ascent above the eastern peaks.
The goats would remember the way down, their sure feet finding purchase on trails that would have terrified Lark on their way up, had she been focused enough to notice.
She mounted her animal and let it pick its path, trusting in its instincts.
Rion was beside her on his own mount, his face resolved.
Pippa and Darian brought up the rear, Noctis trotting ahead as he always did, scouting the path.
At the edge of the trail, where Springhope’s terraced streets gave way to open mountain, Lark paused and looked back.
The city glowed in the morning light, warm and golden, a sanctuary that had refused to shelter them.
And somewhere in those streets, Morena was sending a message that might save lives or might accomplish nothing at all.
Here she had found family. She had found answers about her mother, about her past, about the gift that ran in her blood.
She had found healing for Rion and rest for all of them.
And now she was leaving it all behind, heading toward an uncertain future and an enemy who would not stop until he had everything he wanted.
Rion’s hand found hers across the space between their mounts. He said nothing, but his grip was both a promise and a comfort.