CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Up until I moved out of my parents’ house and in with Cam when I was twelve, the islands of the Crescent had felt more like a home to me than Gedeinia.
They were certainly the most comforting.
Home for me meant tension, waiting for someone to drop bad news that they’d got into trouble.
Sitting between my mother and Cam around the dinner table was like waiting in the jaws of a dragon and hoping they didn’t get hungry.
This city though only held the best kind of memories.
I walked down the skinny streets from the train station to the edges of town along the coast. The setting sun was beginning to cast a golden glow over the white-rendered buildings.
The more modern ones with giant glass panels reflected it in every direction, filling even the narrowest roads with fiery light.
It matched the glorious smells that began to fill the air. In between the tall skyscrapers of stone, metal and glass were the smaller, squatter buildings of the old town. They had their windows and doors flung open to the streets, letting out the scents of whatever was cooking inside.
I passed a dozen restaurants, each selling a variation on the mouth-watering fried foods the city was known for.
A cheerful man was leaning out of his window with a towel wrapped around his damp hair, chatting with a woman passing by with her pet iguana draped over one shoulder.
She could have been a neighbour or stranger, it didn’t matter.
In a city populated by hundreds of thousands with only enough land for half that, the citizens lived on top of one another and never knew a person they couldn’t win over with a shared meal.
By the time I reached the fancy district of Theo’s home my stomach had shrivelled up in protest as I bypassed the delicious smells.
Resisting a snack on the way was one of the hardest things I’d had to do all season.
Harder still was the idea of facing Theo’s family after so long apart.
Theo had insisted they wanted to hear from me, but that didn’t make it any easier.
It would be worth it though. I hoped.
The sweeping facade of the Vaspre family home was ablaze with outdoor lighting, making it look even more dramatic than it was built to be.
The modern building was wider than it was tall, with floor-to-ceiling windows that somehow still protected the occupants’ privacy.
It was also telling of their wealth that their home’s footprint covered several families’ worth just a few miles down the road.
It was all smooth sweeping lines, no harsh angles anywhere. Despite the elegance, purple Ballenir flags hanging from the eaves still fluttered in the coastal breeze.
Theo’s parents, Ophelia and Alesso, had never been anything but supportive. My heart sped up at the thought of seeing them after so long. I had no idea what Theo had told them of our falling out years ago.
I climbed the front steps and knocked on the too-wide front door. There wasn’t a handle, they were too rich for those. Instead there was a security augment at the side that wasn’t dissimilar from the ones used in Volitant headquarters.
The door swung open, deceptively light for one so massive. The first thing I saw was a familiar head of dark curls.
‘Lena?’ Ophelia, Theo’s mother, raised a hand to her mouth as she stared at me.
I was drawn in by her flowery scent as she pulled me into a hug. The sounds of more Vaspres reached my ears from further into the home. My throat thickened.
‘Theo said you’d be getting in touch soon! I didn’t realize it would be in person!’ Ophelia cupped my face in her soft, warm hands. She held it there for a long moment, even turned my head from side to side to check me over. ‘It’s good that you came, sweetheart.’
My shoulders released their tension, the guilt stirred inside, but was squashed by the safe feeling that was rapidly enveloping me.
I was corralled through the entry way – the great curved staircase wound lazily up to a mezzanine that hung over the doors leading to each area of the house. My gaze drifted upwards. I wondered if Theo was up there in his room, or if he would appear elsewhere. My heart picked up speed.
The wooden floor creaked underfoot, making the footsteps sound like there were twice as many people in the house as there were. The voices of the family became clearer, coming from the kitchen.
‘Dinner is almost ready. You can tell us all about what you’ve been up to as you help.’ Ophelia led me to the heart of the home.
Nerves crept upwards as I prepared for the questions. Then the heat washed over me the moment we crossed through the open doorway into the kitchen. The floor was a deep orange tile, a hexagonal pattern that Ophelia used to complain about not liking, yet had kept for decades.
A long, thin wooden table took up the right side of the room, lengthening to the open back patio that gave a view of the ocean. On the left the kitchen wrapped around a centre island where Theo’s father, Alesso, was preparing dinner.
Every surface was covered with food and cooking equipment. Alesso was still pulling more out of the cupboards.
The leftmost wall hosted a large hearth. Pops, Theo’s grandfather, was where he always had been – standing over the fire-fuelled stoves he refused to replace with a modern arcanite cooker. One big pot simmered in the centre, surrounded by half a dozen smaller ones.
My mouth watered – he was making his stew. I could see the deep red colour beyond the lip of the pot, the best smell in the world coming to life as he stirred and added more ‘secret ingredients’ he never shared or wrote down.
‘Lena is here!’ Ophelia called out.
Alesso and Pops both turned to us as Ophelia headed for the hearth. Pops’ face creased into a smile, deepening his wrinkles. I still didn’t know his name. From the day we’d met he’d insisted I call him Pops just like everyone else. Even Cam.
The two of them broke out into cries of greetings, coming over to see me, pat me on the head and offer hugs.
‘You’ve grown!’ Alesso held me by the shoulders and appraised me.
‘Not enough!’ said Pops. ‘I hope you’re staying for dinner.’
‘What’s the commotion?’ The wry comment broke through the warm greetings.
Pops and Alesso separated, revealing Theo walking in from the patio. Our eyes met and I took a lot of joy in seeing his widen.
‘Lena is home. We’ve been waiting for years! Of course there’s a commotion.’ Alesso pulled me into a bear hug, his thick arms blocking my view.
Theo slunk past us. I narrowed my eyes at him as much as I could while in Alesso’s embrace.
I was released from the hug and deposited at the kitchen island. I washed my hands in the sink and lingered, trusting that someone would give me a job soon enough.
‘Pops, how long till dinner?’ Theo asked, too casual to be genuine.
‘Less time if you stop being so lazy and actually help.’ There it was. The complaint that was really an invitation to join in. Except there was only a short list of approved ways to help, none of which involved approaching the pot of stew on the stove.
Theo pulled up next to me and took over a bowl of dough.
‘You showed up,’ he said, under his breath.
‘You invited me,’ I answered.
Nothing but a sidelong glance in return as he divided the dough between us. I scattered flour on the countertop and two rolling pins were handed over by Alesso. In sync we pulled pieces of dough, rolled them and sent them on to Ophelia who had the stir-fried filling.
I was prepared to work in a comfortable rhythm, listening to the chatter of the kitchen as the shock of my arrival dissipated. I wasn’t so lucky though.
‘Lena.’ Ophelia fixed her eyes on me from across the countertop. Any number of questions could be following that stern look. ‘You know you could have visited anyway, don’t you?’
‘Ma, I told you she’s—’
She cut Theo off. ‘Oh, Lena. You look just like my big-mouth son. I thought you were pale with long hair, but no, you seem to have turned into a rude boy who interrupts his mother!’
He shut his mouth.
‘Honestly, it’s been a bit, uh …’ I searched for the right words. Ophelia looked at me earnestly, the smile lines around her eyes now permanent.
‘Don’t blame Lena. It’s my fault that she’s not been around.’ Theo had interrupted me, but for the first time I didn’t mind. It was also the first time he’d admitted it was his fault.
My hands stopped rolling the dough, as frozen as the rest of me, unsure what to do.
Alesso tossed a towel harmlessly at Theo as Ophelia and Pops talked over one another.
‘We know it’s your fault, son. We saw the race.’
‘Lena, you should have come anyway. You’ve always been family!’
I had to raise my voice to be heard over their reprimands. ‘It’s okay!’
The yelling stopped. But the disapproving looks didn’t.
I picked at the edge of the thin circle of dough I’d been working at, trying not to show how much their affection got to me. ‘It doesn’t matter anymore.’
I felt Theo’s arm tense next to mine.
‘I’m here now.’ I said it to the dough, but the mhmms and knowing nods could be felt around the room.
Theo still wasn’t moving.
‘And now you’ll show the boys how a woman flies,’ said Ophelia. She’d been delighted when Theo and I had made the same team in the Wyvern Cup, so she could finally stop buying two sets of fan shirts to support us. She hadn’t changed.
She took the completed parcels from our production line to a pot of oil and dipped them in, sending me right back to being a kid, watching her do the same thing over and over as I not so patiently waited to be fed.
The whole house felt stuck in time. Except when I’d crossed over the threshold I had brought the past five years with me, along with the baggage I’d collected. Asking Theo for help suddenly felt much harder than I’d anticipated.