Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
The days passed in a dreamy haze; Auster was convinced that he’d never been so happy. Autumn was with them, present but not panicked or worried. Just with them, to love and spend the days with them. She sang almost all the time now, silver and pretty, a chorus with the Mountain.
But Auster couldn’t protect her, not with his blade the way it was. It had been limited, shrieked to pieces by the Song for trying to harm Autumn, but he was past that now, they all were, and he needed the Prism Blade back in case he was called to defend Autumn.
But only the Song could grant him that, and in order to ask, he would have to master himself and go to the spring. He told Boreus and Autumn what he intended, and had breakfast with the ones he loved, kissing them both before he left their home to go to the spring.
When he arrived, he sat on the edge of the water, waiting for the Song to notice him. He would not push for the Song’s attention, but Auster hummed softly as he waited.
Eventually, there was a glimmer in the water, a ripple, and the Song poked itself above the surface of the spring. Auster could feel the Song’s anger; it showed in the notes that were coming from them, the fall strong and diamond-hard, in a way he’d never heard.
But Auster used to sing with Autumn, so he opened his mouth and sang back. His voice wasn’t diamond, it wasn’t a gem; it was iron, the notes firm and unmoving. He sang an apology to the Song, for scaring it, for harming its friend. Telling it he loved Autumn, that he would never harm her.
The song rang with skepticism, but the anger was subsiding. The diamond gilding, until the notes were golden, until they were no longer angry. But the skepticism remained.
Auster just nodded. “I would be skeptical too.” He said, sipping from the water that he’d brought with him, soothing his throat. “I only want to defend her, but I will wait until you can trust that I mean her no harm.”
He left shortly after; that was enough; he would not win the Song’s trust in one day.
Auster went back the next day; this time he went with Autumn, and they sang together. The Song raising its head above the water to join in. Next time, they all went together. Boreus was shy about his voice, a reluctant part of their quartet, but he sang anyway.
It took the better part of two weeks for the skepticism to fade from the Song. On the day before they were due back to attend on the Highest, Auster sang his question to the song again. Would it allow him to defend Autumn when the Song couldn’t be there?
The fall of notes was reluctant, but affirmative. Auster moved his hand to summon the Prism Blade, watching it coalesce out of the air. It was still dull, still cracked, but the Song raised itself slightly higher and reached out.
Auster offered the blade to the Song, knowing that he would not be able to harm it. Not wanting to. The star-sprinkled dark of the Song covered the blade, all the way up to where Auster’s hand rested on the pommel.
And when it pulled back, the blade broke the light, sending rainbows over the stone that walled what used to be the grotto. The blade was sharp again, edged in diamond and fire, and Auster looked at the Song and bowed, letting the blade fade from his grasp.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for trusting me with her defense when you cannot be with her.”
The Song let a fall of silver notes fly before it sank back into the water and was gone. Auster bowed once more to the spring before he left and went back to their home.
* * *
The next day, they were summoned to the Highest. Walking into the throne room to bow to the assembled and wait. Auster knew why they were here; they were going to strengthen the threads that held the braid, so that Autumn and Eleni would be safe and held.
Auster had never been in Autumn’s mind; she had never invited him, and he would never force his way in. But she was inviting him now, both of them, while Light stood guard.
Auster had a moment’s hesitation, just for the barest instant before he took the step that led from her to him, standing in her mind, in front of the people he loved. There was still a separation; they were standing hand in hand, looking at him with the same smile.
“Hello Auster,” Eleni nodded to him. “Come and strengthen our ties.”
He wanted to hold her, wanted to hold them both, but he was here for a purpose, and then after he could sort through his feelings.
Auster followed them to the braid. Looked at the threads that were only barely holding it together and then at the two that he loved. Boreus’ love was strong, but the magic in the braid was too much for one love.
“I see it,” Auster said, raising his hands and looking at them. “I love you, and I won’t let you come apart.”
He let the magic flow, the love that he felt for them, and spun it around the threads that were already there, stitching through the same holes, reinforcing the love that tied them together.
The braid shuddered, but the threads held. When Auster turned around, Eleni was gone. He looked at Autumn, who pointed to the braid and smiled. “You strengthened it enough that she could go back.”
Auster took Autumn’s hand, pulling her into his arms and kissing her lightly. “I love you,” he said, feeling the worry that had started in her beneath his feet. “I promise, Autumn, I have no regrets about loving you.”
She nodded, kissing him back with a smile. “Thank you, love.”
Auster nodded, releasing her and closing his eyes, fading back into his own mind.