“They’re meeting with them right now?” Elyria straightened, her words garbled through a massive bite of biscuit. “We should?—”
“The elders do not take kindly to interruption,” said a soft voice. High, bright. “They know you are here. They will call for you.”
Cedric froze.
He knew that voice.
Would’ve known who was standing behind him even if Elyria hadn’t just spat out her biscuit, leaping to her feet. The table shifted, Ollie’s plate clattering on the ground, Thraigg’s mug overturning with a splash.
Despite the commotion, Cedric turned slowly, disbelief making his movements sluggish.
Her forest green hair was shorter than he remembered, as though she’d recently cut it. The delicate vine-like tattoos that wove over her arms, under the sleeves of her birch-colored tunic, more detailed than he’d recalled. And her belt was free of the numerous vials and pouches and potions she’d had clipped there throughout the Crucible.
But it was her.
“You.” Elyria’s voice was a dark melody carving through the air toward Zephyr, who stood in front of the thick trunk of a nearby silveroak.
“Whoa there, Rev.” Thraigg lifted his hands, palms out, as if trying to calm a wild animal. Perhaps he was. Because before Cedric even had time to react properly, Elyria had already lunged forward, her wings flaring as she slammed the sylvan into the nearest tree. Green hands scrambled at Elyria’s forearm as she pinned Zephyr by the throat.
“What thefuckare you doing here?”
There was a flash of viridescent light, and Zephyr shrunk out of Elyria’s hold, small wings bursting from beneath Elyria as a green magpie soared into the air.
Elyria cursed as the bird flew into the tree above her, settling on a large branch, before transforming back into Zephyr with another burst of light. The sylvan gasped for breath, clutching the branch with both hands, two lines forming in the center of her brow as she looked upon the group.
“Get back down here, you traitorous bit?—”
“Elle.” Ollie placed a brave hand on Elyria’s shoulder.
Elyria whirled. “What is this, Ollie? Don’t you know who she is?”
Ollie gave a solemn nod, then looked to Thraigg with a pleading expression.
The dwarf simply shrugged. “I weren’t too happy when we first realized she was here either. But after she?—”
“But?” The word might as well have been forged from razors, given how sharp it sounded leaving Elyria’s mouth. “There is no excuse she could give that explains away what she did. She betrayed us all. She stole the crown. She almost let Kit die!”
“I know I did,” Zephyr called down, her voice sounding small. “All of that is true. And I know it won’t make a difference if I tell you I’m sorry—I know you wouldn’t believe me, even if I were capable ofexpressing how deeply sorry I am. Just like I know I don’t deserve to be here now. I was never meant to be. But I swear to you, I was never your enemy.”
“You just worked for our enemy. Fortheenemy.” Cedric’s voice was lethally calm.
Zephyr flinched. “He didn’t give me a choice.”
Cedric scoffed. “Yes, I believe I remember you saying as much when you cut the crown from Elle’s hand and flew off.”
Zephyr didn’t speak right away. She simply clung tighter to the branch, eyes wide, small shoulders jerking, her breath coming in short, jagged pants. She looked panic-stricken, and the anger simmering in Cedric’s gut started to settle as a different emotion took its place: pity.
It was quickly followed by the sour taste of disgust—at himself, for the immediacy with which he felt sorry for the sylvan, and maybe a little bit of it was pulsing down the bond from Elyria for the same reason.
“You don’t...You d-don’t—don’t understand,” Zephyr squeaked out between rattled breaths. Cedric could see the hysteria cresting on her face, guilt etched into the furrow of her green brow. Elyria met Cedric’s eyes, rolling her own with resignation.
“For fuck’s sake, take a breath and come down here. I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.” She crossed her arms, jaw ticking as she stepped back, giving Zephyr room to descend.“I better not fucking regret this,”she added in his head.
Zephyr’s green-eyed gaze was on Cedric, questioning. He nodded at her. She hesitated—long enough that he wondered if she was planning on staying up there forever—before leaping from the branch, landing softly on the grass below.
“Fuckmeover the Chasm,” Elyria said under her breath, turning on her heel and stalking back over to the table they’d been sitting at before Zephyr’s interruption.
Thraigg choked back a laugh as he followed. “Let me know when the dust settles, will ye, boyo?” He plucked his overturned mug from the table with a shake of his head, exchanging a look with Ollie before disappearing inside the shack—what Cedric now understood must essentially be this place’s version of a tavern.
