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‘We really can’t,’ Lyn said, sounding exhausted. ‘Is there anything else we need to discuss, then? Because otherwise I would prefer to get back to the Underground as soon as possible to keep an eye on the mess.’
Back to the Underground.
Back, more specifically, to face Tared again.
Had she deliberately failed to mention him in the past few minutes, even though he must have been there during her dealings with Thysandra and the Council? I wanted to ask if she’d had any opportunity to talk with him after the fight I’d overheard on the beach. If there was any chance of him changing his mind about Creon and me – any chance I wouldn’t find myself shoved out of the Skeire home before the day had passed.
But perhaps she wanted to think about him as little as I did, and either way, with less than half an hour to go, we didn’t have the time.
‘I’m ready,’ I said, hauling myself to my feet with a groan and holding out my arm for Alyra. She let out a triumphant little squeal as she hopped onto my shoulder. ‘Could we make a quick stop at home, though? I’m going to need soap and a clean dress before I’m capable of having a civilised conversation with anyone.’
Both to my relief and my disappointment, it wasn’t Tared we found waiting for us by the shield around the Cobalt Court.Instead, some alf male I vaguely recognised as one of Edored’s card friends stood lounging between the remaining corpses of Thysandra’s people, appreciatively studying the cuts and burn wounds that had led to their demise.
His grin went a little tight at the sight of Creon and me flying towards him. It wasn’t fear, that expression, but it definitely betrayed he’d heard the story of the Sun fleet and its destruction at our hands.
‘Found them,’ Lyn announced rather redundantly as she landed next to him, wings sputtering out with a last bright flare. The tone of her young voice didn’t allow for any questions. ‘If you could just get us home? You can come help Beyla here afterwards.’
As if she’d been summoned, Beyla appeared from thin air some fifty feet away, grabbed yet another corpse from the moss-covered slope, and vanished without even acknowledging our presence. Off to Oskya, to stage a battlefield on the other side of the archipelago and hope the Mother would not realise we’d ever set foot on the island of the Cobalt Court at all.
‘At your service, Phiramelyndra,’ the alf said brightly, chuckling at the scorching glare she shot him while she grabbed his elbow.
Creon put me back on my feet but did not let go of me as he took Lyn’s free arm in turn. Alyra tucked her head beneath her wing on my shoulder, talons digging through my dress. Despite his carefree air, the alf didn’t waste a moment; he faded the instant we’d all linked up, without so much as a word of warning.
In a flicker, the mountains and the ruins and the torch-lit night of the Cobalt Court dissolved.
For two thunderous heartbeats, everything ceased to exist except Alyra’s talons and Creon’s strong fingers grasping my forearm; the world swirled around us in darkness and flashes of crystalline stars, wisps of briny sea air and the roar ofwaves breaking on cliffs. Just two heartbeats, and then it was over. The ground abruptly turned solid beneath my feet, the colours stopped whirling. Roughly woven rugs replaced the rocky ground where I’d stood a moment before, and the smooth, iridescent walls of the Underground eclipsed the starlight and the open skies.
The smell of fresh bread and dusty wool hit me, a smell I had not known I missed but recognised in an instant.Home.
My knees almost buckled.
Rationally, I knew not even two weeks had gone by since I’d last seen the long table with its benches, the mismatched armchairs and couch, the green tapestries with the scorch marks Lyn had left in them. Beyla’s chess set and Ylfreda’s herbs and the sketchbooks with Hallthor’s half-finished sword designs … IknewI’d held them in my hands less than a month ago. And yet returning was like stepping years back into the past – a sensation so disorienting I barely noticed the alf male vanishing again, barely registered Lyn asking Creon another question or his signed reply.
Two weeks ago, I’d never laid eyes on the cursed, desolate continent above.
Two weeks ago, I hadn't known I’d find Zera. I hadn't known I’d return godsworn and with a bird familiar on my shoulder, wielding powers I shared only with the Mother herself. I hadn't known I’d hold Creon’s binding in my hand and lose it the next moment – that I’d hear the sound of his voice, no matter how damaged, before I’d set foot in this house again.
The living room hadn't changed, and yet it felt smaller. Simpler.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know what that said about me.
‘Em?’ Lyn said, and only then did I realise she’d called my name twice before. ‘If you were still planning to go find yourself a clean dress …’
Right. The Alliance.
I gave myself a mental kick, forcing a smile. ‘Yes, of course. I’ll go change and see you there.’
She nodded and scurried out without another word, no attempts to hurry me or badger me about the details of my plans. Alyra remained perched on my shoulder, watching the dark walls and the flickering alf lights with distrustful eyes.
It was only as the door fell shut behind her that Creon turned to me, scarred eyebrow raised a fraction, lips curved into the wryest of smiles.I?
I blinked. ‘What?’
Singular,he spelled, sinking down on the edge of the long bench beside the table.Are you planning to go see them alone?
Oh.I’ll see you there, I’d just told Lyn. A sentence slipping from my lips without much thought or intention behind it – hell, I hadn't spent much thought onanypart of the upcoming confrontation, except perhaps for some quiet grumbling and loathing.
Then again …
