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He could not help but laugh. “Are you going to say I’m a man now?”
“No,” she replied, and smoothed his collar. “You are a hero.”
But for the onlookers, Andry would have wept in the middle of the dock. Instead, he forced back his tears, taking his mother by the free hand.
“There’s someone I want you to meet,” he said, gesturing back to the ship.
The purple sails of theTempestbornwere already stowed, its crew beginning the careful business of docking down the galley. Corayne appeared at the rail, her hair tied back in her braid, a fresh tan across her face.
“We have met already,” Valeri said, half-scolding her son. Then she looked at him sidelong. “Unless I am meeting her in some other capacity.”
“I would hope so,” Andry answered, grinning as Corayne joined them.
She stood straight, a blue cloak over one arm, a satchel strung from one shoulder. These days she carried only a long knife, stowed in her boot.
And nothing else.
Valeri Trelland greeted her fondly, kissing Corayne on both cheeks. Andry could only watch, a little shocked by the moment as it unfolded. He dreamed of this so many times he could hardly believe it was real.Corayne. My mother. The land of my ancestors.His eyes prickled and his heart swelled in his chest until it was almost too much to bear.
Then Corayne’s shoulder brushed his own and he shivered. Still unsure of their closeness, of where each side stood. But she grinned up at him in an encouraging way, gesturing for him to join them. Her smile was like the sun, bathing him in a warm glow.
“With me,” Corayne said under her breath, so only he could hear.
Slowly, the young man loosed a breath. And with it, the last weight hanging from his shoulders. Whatever darkness remained disappeared, chased away by golden light.
“With me,” Andry whispered back.
The realm entire.
Erida thought of her crowns, varied as they were. Gold, silver, every kind of jewel. Some for celebration, some for war. All meant to mark her as what she was—the Queen of Galland, the most powerful person to walk the Ward.
Her crown was ashes now, her jewels embers.
Her realm was barely what she held in her body, and even that was no longer hers.
My mind is my own.She repeated it over and over again, until some feeling came back to her limbs, some control to her mind. Her hands still twitched, the scratch of What Waits ever-present in her head. But it was a little bit easier to bear.
“You should have gone with them,” she said, lifting her chin to look at Taristan. The smoke grew so thick she could hardly see him through the shadows, the strange realm burning around them.
But she could still feel his arms, wrapped around her as they were, holding them both together until some kind of ending came.
“To what?” he answered, his voice raspy with smoke.
Erida heaved another choking breath, the heat of the flames buffeting her back. Tears slipped from her eyes and Erida curled into him, as if she might disappear into Taristan entirely.
“To anything but this,” she cried out, looking back to where the Spindle used to be. “There is nothing for you here.”
Taristan only stared. “Yes, there is.”
The fires spread, so close now Erida feared her armor might melt off her body. But there was nowhere to go, nothing to do. They had no blade. They had no doorways. There was only Taristan in front of her, the long years of his life welling up in his eyes.
She knew them as much as anyone could. An orphan, a mercenary, a prince. A discarded child ripe for the picking, set on this terrible path for so terribly long.
Did it always lead here?she wondered.Has this always been our fate?
The steps shuddered behind her, one of them crumbling entirely. What Waits hissed with the cracking stone, closer by the second. The demon within called to the demon without, the two of them connected like a piece of rope pulling taut.
Erida swallowed against the sensation, feeling her control slip.
