“There is always a choice.” His every movement radiated betrayed trust and barely contained fury as he stalked back to me. “And you’re making yours.”
I stood my ground, refusing to flinch under his glare.
“Give me that Air stone,” he growled, snatching it from my hand. I closed my eyes as I felt the first stirrings of Air magic, unable to watch as he wove the spell that would shroud part of Tristan’s memories in a hazy, impenetrable fog. But I could still hear them: Tristan’s confused questions; Kyree’s patient voice explaining that there was nothing to worry about, just a minor aftereffect of the blow that had broken his nose. Guilt surged within me like a storm.Tristan was my friend, had briefly been my lover, and he did not deserve this deceit.
Once more, I was falling with nothing to catch me.
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Noctis’s face. He wisely refrained from touching me or saying anything, his gaze soft. Despite everything, it warmed me. Kyree was right; I had made my choice, and I could not regret it.
“You should be careful,” Kyree warned Briseis as he and Tristan prepared to descend back to Dalath, the Human’s eyes still unfocused. “In the end, the gods do not care about the lives of mere mortals.”
I resisted the urge to react to the barb. Briseis moved beside me in support, her voice calm. “Don’t worry, my friend. I know how to look after myself.”
The Aerieth nodded curtly, not sparing me another glance as he led Tristan away. He had not returned the Air stone, but I knew better than to ask for it now.
“He might come around,” Briseis said, pressing my shoulder.
Watching Tristan and Kyree’s shadows grow smaller in the fading sunlight, I couldn’t suppress a shiver. Something had ended today, and I was certain there would be no return to it.
Bane pressed against my leg with a sad mew. “Somehow,” I murmured, picking him up, “I doubt that.”
CHAPTER
51
Noctis
Rada’s scream jolted me from my troubled thoughts. My gaze snapped to the open kitchen window, my body tensing up only to relax immediately at the sound of a child’s wild laughter.
“Varien! Don’t you dare.” Mirth colored Rada’s voice, despite her attempt to sound stern. A loud splash. Then a lot of giggling, followed by even more splashing.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I struggled to my feet, wincing at the dull ache in my chest. Three days had passed since our confrontation with Deira and Kaius, and I was still nursing my wounds. The Water stone would have sped up my recovery, but Kyree had taken it—and the Air stone Rada entrusted him with—to Dalath. With the looming threat of the other Chiasma and Galator, we desperately needed thoselyr-stones. Yet I hesitated to press Rada to retrievethem; the Aerieth’s accusations still echoed in my mind. The quarrel with her friend had cast a shadow of sorrow in her eyes that haunted me. I had been right. My presence had stolen her peace.
As I peered out of the window, a smile tugged on my lips. Varien and Rada stood in the pasture beside the barn, a large barrel of water between them. They were using water pumps to hose down the araks, providing relief on the hot summer day. Though not all the water landed on the animals. Varien seized every chance to splash Rada, leaving her braid and white cotton dress soaked. The boy laughed loudly when she retaliated, ducking behind the barrel.
The sun illuminated Rada’s face, a carefree joy shining on it. Was this how she would have looked if she had been granted a normal life? If she could have married Farm Boy and found simple happiness with a family of her own? My stomach churned at the thought.
“Aren’t you supposed to wash them, not each other?” Briseis had appeared at the fence of the enclosure, dressed in her leathers, her bow slung over one shoulder and a hare over the other. I recalled that the Elf was a hunter. She treated me like one of the great predators she might have encountered in the Northern Forest during her youth—no fear in her expression, but a watchful alertness, her blue eyes tracking my every move. I stepped back from the window before she could notice me.
Since the Chiasma and their Rakash had laid waste to her and Varien’s little hut, they had accompanied Rada and me down from Milford Ridge. We had decided to return to the farm, at least until I had recovered. The three of them had cleared out the guest room for the Elves to sleep in. If Briseis had any opinions about Rada and me openly sharing a bedroom, the former Elvish princess kept them to herself. Not that we ever did more than rest beside each other. My wound still troubled me too much to entertain any other thoughts, and there was an unspoken tension between us, the weight of countless unsaid words. We needed to talk. Truly talk.
The door creaked open, and Rada burst in, her face still lit up with a smile as she ran her fingers through her loose, slightly damp locks.
“How do you feel?” she asked, noticing me in the kitchen.
“Like I’m sick and tired of being useless,” I replied honestly. The drain on my magic had left me too weak to assist when Rada and Briseis had taken care of the dead Rakash and the Kritak, and watching them work tirelessly had only added to the guilt weighing me down.
Rada nodded in understanding, a compassionate look in her eyes as she moved past me to one of the storage cupboards. I couldn’t help but notice how her damp dress clung to the enticing curve of her ass as she bent down to retrieve a bowl of potatoes.
“You can help me peel these for dinner. They’ll pair nicely with the hare Briseis caught,” she remarked, sliding two knives from the block on the counter. I hummed in agreement and followed her to the table, taking a seat across from her. For a while, we focused on our task in comfortable silence.
“I don’t think I’ve told you often enough,” I finally said, setting down my knife. “What you’ve built here on this farm is extraordinary.” A self-deprecating laugh escaped me. “You thrived, while I barely survived, wasting my days wallowing in self-pity.”
Rada didn’t look up from the potato in her hand, likely sensing there was more to come.
“Still, I can’t help but wonder why,” I continued. “Why are you still here, Baradaz? Even as a mortal, you could be so much more.”
Rada remained silent, her gaze downcast, her grip on the knife so tight her knuckles turned white. “You shattered my heart into a million pieces,” she finally whispered, her voice breaking. “Not once, not twice, but so many times that I feared there was nothing left to mend.”
