Everest grins across the room at me. He looks happy, which is much different from the Everest I first set eyes on. He was afraid then, angry and confused.
But he was strong and stubborn, and those parts of him have not changed.
Dante eventually sits next to me with a massive plate of pasta and offers me a bite, though I decline. Human customs say it is rude to turn down food all the time, but Dante does not seem offended.
He seems to not only understand our differences but also embrace them. I lean over, rubbing my nose along his ear before finishing the first row that will fit one of my brothers’ heel claws.
I show it to Dante’s mother, who gives me an approving nod.
“Very good, amore. It’s going to be perfect. Your brothers? They will love it.”
My heart warms. Will she ever meet them? Will she like them as much as she seems to like me?
“Yes,” Dante murmurs, leaning into me. “She will. So will Luca, Gia, and Amara.”
Luca makes a loud noise, waving at Dante. ‘I saw my name. Talking about me?’
‘Yes. Telling Cielo how bad you smell, and leave socks everywhere. And wet towels.’
Luca puts up his middle finger, which I know is a rude gesture, but Dante merely laughs. Luca grins back at him, but his expression shifts, and he bites his lip before he signs, ‘I want to talk.’ Dante points to himself, and Luca nods. ‘Please.’
‘Go,’ I urge Dante in his head. ‘It is obvious your brother needs you.’
“I,” Dante starts, then stops. He meets my gaze. “I have something I want to tell you when we’re done. Something important. Something good,” he clarifies as though he sensed my immediate worry. He kisses me for good measure before slapping his hands on his thighs and pushing up with a grunt.
The brothers disappear into my room, and I can tell Dante is going to use Niaus to soothe whatever is bothering Luca. As he should.
I get back to my knitting, and it isn’t long before Rathyn takes Dante’s abandoned seat.
“Your brothers are safe?” he asks in Eretharian.
I nod. “They are with Quilliyn now.”
“And the portal key?”
“Quilliyn is keeping it,” I tell him. He looks concerned, but I trust Quilliyn entirely. “He will aid me in destroying it.”
Rathyn is quiet for a long moment, and while I do not ever wish to know his deepest, most personal thoughts, I wish he were easier to read.
“Everest believes that more Vyastil are unsatisfied than satisfied. He believes it is the majority.”
I’m afraid to respond. The truth is, I know this. I can confirm it. We have been taught all our lives to accept our station and to live as comfortably as we are allowed. There was no point in wishing for more. More was a luxury—it was a passion, and passion went against the very nature of the Vyastil.
Only, many of us know that is not true. Many of us know the ancient songs written on the walls of the singing caves. We know the Vyastil that came long before the capital was built. We know that each had a VySytheh. That they raised their hatchlings.
That there was family, and peace, and something like love.
But most of us also did not believe any of us would ever find it again. But Rathyn did, and I do not believe he was the first.
And I have found it for myself, and I wish to believe my brothers will, and Quilliyn.
“You agree with him,” Rathyn eventually says. When I glance away, he lets out a small hum and flicks his ears. “Do not be afraid to be honest with me, Cielo. I understand that our stations make it difficult, but I am…trying to be better.”
I bow my head, then eventually nod.
“You are more of an expert than I am. I was taken from my eggshell and put into Eissa’s home. I was raised in the capital and bred for command. It was all I had ever known. It was all I believed. But Everest has destroyed that.”
“Was it painful?” I can’t help but ask.
