Chapter 12 #4
Auriel had said more than twenty-four hours.
But it was worse than that. We’d arrived in the early morning.
It had been more than a full day and a half.
Which meant it had been two days since I’d seen Rhyan.
Since I’d lost him. I watched the sun go down, realizing that as soon as it vanished over the horizon, that this would have been the exact moment he’d changed.
The moment he’d have gone from being forsaken to akadim.
I felt dizzy thinking about it. Nauseated. Was he alone when it happened? Confused? Scared? Was he in pain?
Branwyn stepped back inside the room, replacing her stave at her hip, and gestured for me to come out. But I couldn’t move. For a second, I’d forgotten how to walk, my feet heavy and glued to the ground, my mind lost to Rhyan’s transformation.
Sean wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and gently led me outside.
“Here.” He pointed to a chair. “Sit down. Take a breath. No one can see you or hear you out here. So long as no other uninvited soturi arrive, you should be okay for a while. I’m going to get you some water to drink, and a blanket in case you’re cold. Are you hungry at all?”
“I’m not hungry.” I sank into the chair, and pulled my knees up to my chest, staring at the trees.
I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d tasted food.
Rhyan had made me eat that final morning.
Back at the inn in Thene. I’d had no idea that it would be our last morning together, that it would be our last breakfast as he’d fed me a forkful of eggs, urging me to eat more.
To recover my strength. My stomach twisted, though I wasn’t sure if it was in hunger, or simply in pain from the memory.
All the times Rhyan had cared for me, all the times he’d made sure I ate, made sure I was okay …
Sean squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll be right back, Lyriana.
We’ll give you some privacy. Okay?”
I tried to nod, and waited for Sean to close the balcony door before I sobbed again. Pulling the scabbard from my belt, I clutched it to my heart, my tears rolling down the leather, making the sun and moon shine.
“Partner.” Rhyan snuck up behind me.
“Thank the Gods! You’re back,” I said.
“Mmmmhhhhmmm,” he murmured against my skin, his arms wrapping around me from behind. “I got some more materials for Meera’s soturion uniform. And I brought back more food for you both. I filled two bags with it. She’s currently chopping everything up for dinner.”
I leaned back against him, letting him take my weight, reveling in the sturdy feel of his body against mine.
Of the strength he projected. The strength I felt just being near him.
His skin was still chilled from being out all day on patrol in the Glemarian mountains.
But I could feel him warming against me, taking on my heat.
He tightened his hold on me, our bodies pressed together.
“I thought you’d come home sooner,” I said, my voice hushed.
“I’m sorry, I wanted to.”
“No trouble out there?” I asked.
“No. None.” His lips skimmed along the side of my neck, leaving small shivers running down my spine.
They moved lower, growing warmer, down to my belly, between my legs.
“Other than …” He grinned, and I could feel the movement, feel his lips turn up.
It made me smile in turn. “I missed you,” he said, and brushed his nose against my skin, inhaling deeply.
Rhyan pressed a kiss to that very spot at the base of my neck, and then my shoulder, as his fingers moved in lazy circles over my belly.
“I missed you, too,” I said, and turned in his arms, our lips meeting.
“Mmmmm,” he hummed against my mouth. Then kissed the corner of my lips, squeezing his arms tightly around me.
“I got you something,” he said, pulling back.
He offered a sort of shy smile, like he was embarrassed by the offering.
But then he reached behind his back, and placed it in my hands.
A black leather scabbard—the kind used to hold staves.
“It’s not much, but I saw this and I, well—”
“I love it,” I said, stroking the leather. It was already soft and worn, and the perfect size to fit Asherah’s stave. “It looks just like your old armor, especially with the sigil.”
Rhyan was still smiling shyly. “They didn’t have any with sigils for Ka Batavia.”
“I don’t care about that. I love this one. It reminds me of you.” I wrapped my arms around him, kissing him again. “Rhyan, it’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Check inside,” he said, opening it for me. The letters L.B. had been painted in gold. “I had it personalized.” He kissed my forehead. “I wanted it to feel like yours.”
My heart swelled. How did this man always know exactly what to do, what to say? What I needed?
He pushed my hair behind my ears, his palms cupping my cheeks. “I know the last few days have been rough. Since the Allurian Pass.” He shook his head, and smiled ruefully. “I just … I wanted to do something to make you smile.”
The memory faded, and I cried even harder, remembering Rhyan’s lips on my skin.
His soft touch. His thoughtfulness. I missed him.
I missed everything about him. Being able to whisper secrets to him when we were alone, knowing that no matter what I told him, however awful or embarrassing, he never judged me.
He just listened, and he understood. Loving me, and always, always protecting me …
“You swore, Lyr. You swore you’d make the pain go away. You swore no one else would hurt me. You lied.”
My vision blurred, the tears like an avalanche.
The balcony doors reopened, the sound mixing with the wind blowing through my hair. Seraphim birds chirped in the distant sky. And a few yards away, children were laughing. Playing. Being called inside now that it was dark. They had no idea. No idea the world was falling apart.
Sean stepped back onto the balcony with Branwyn, and this time, their arms were full.
Between the two of them, they held a green blanket, a silver tray with a clear jug of water, and a decanter of something golden.
Whisky perhaps. Several glasses balanced on the tray.
There was also a second platter, this one filled with food.
“I’m really not hungry,” I said weakly. They’d loaded the tray with far more than I could ever attempt to eat, revealing even more.
There was a fresh loaf of bread with several dips, a bowl of nuts, some slices of cake—chocolate.
Beside that there were pistachio cookies, hard-boiled eggs, as well as two bowls of fruit, one full of melons, the other berries.
“That’s all right,” Sean said. “There’s no requirement to. But it’s here if you want it. If you change your mind.”
Branwyn handed the blanket to me and squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll be just inside. Call out to me if you need anything, Lady Lyriana. Anything at all. You let me know.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“Oh,” she said, “And, um, I wanted to thank you for the warning about my grandparents.”
I sat up. “Cal and Marisol? Are they okay?” I blinked rapidly. “Did you hear from them? Any word about my friends, my family?”
Branwyn frowned. “No, I’m sorry—we don’t know their current whereabouts.
I’ll let Sean fill you in on what’s happened.
Your friends and family evacuated the inn before the Emperor’s soturi arrived.
Cal and Marisol didn’t have any more information than that.
They were already gone when I called, and in the process of getting everyone out as a precaution.
They thank you for the warning and for trying to help. ”
“But they’re safe,” I said, like I was trying the words on—remembering that not everyone had been damned.
Not yet. Though a part of me, a part getting louder, was starting to hear the words she wasn’t saying.
That there was danger. And the fates of my loved ones were unknown.
“If you hear anything else, Branwyn, from your grandparents, or if they know anything about my friends, will you tell me?”
She nodded, smiling sadly. “You have my word.” Then she went inside, closing the door behind her.
Sean sat down, and without saying anything, poured me a glass of water, and placed it in my hand. I didn’t want to drink it, but I was thirsty. So I did.
We sat in silence, the sky growing darker and darker with each passing minute.
He lit the torches on either end of the balustrade.
Then he heaped together a plate of food, one that seemed to hold one of everything.
He slid it across the table to me, before picking up the whisky.
Two glasses were filled a moment later, the wind blowing softly with an unusually cold gust.
“This is your home?” I said suddenly, needing to break the silence. Needing to discuss something other than Rhyan.
Anything that wasn’t currently shattering my world.
Sean nodded. “Of course, why?”
“The way we came here,” I said. “Why did we have to go through that maze of houses first?”
“Well, there was the curfew,” he said. “Soturi were everywhere and watching. You couldn’t be seen.”
“No, I understand that part. But the pattern, the homes you entered.” I gestured to the house next door. “They were ready for you—like they knew you were coming. And you knew where you were going. You didn’t falter once. Like you’ve done that before.”
“I have done that before. Many times.” He settled back into his chair. “It’s a route that was created around the time I moved here. Every house you entered yesterday—every yard you went through—they belong to a former Glemarian.”
I recalled the small hints of Glemaria I’d seen.
Gryphons, the scent of pine, like someone had captured the smell of Glemaria in a fragrance.
Or maybe they all used the same soap—like Rhyan meticulously did.
I could see it all clearly. Their houses were all filled with trinkets of home—their true home. Reminders of the North.