That’s growth, probably.
Or humiliation. Hard to tell.
Sonny notices the silence and, to his credit, doesn’t make a big thing of it. He just nods once, like my not objecting is answer enough. “Right,” he says lightly. “I’ll go wrangle the giant purple menace.”
“Try not to flirt with danger on the way,” Jack says.
Sonny snorts. “That’s, like, my whole personality.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “That and bad decisions.”
“Rude but accurate.” He points at me. “You rest. Or at least pretend to so I can say I tried.”
Then he’s gone, disappearing back down the corridor with the same easy confidence he seems to bring to everything,even conversations about royal conspiracies and dimensional ruptures.
The silence he leaves behind is quieter than before, though not uncomfortable.
Jack waits until my balance steadies properly before loosening his grip. He doesn’t let go completely. He just shifts so I can stand on my own while still leaning if I need to.
“I can walk,” I tell him.
“I believe you,” he says. “Still doesn’t mean you should do it alone.”
There’s no pity in it. No fuss. Just straightforward practicality. I hate how much easier that is to accept.
“Fine,” I say. “But if you tell anyone I nearly ate the stone floor just then, I’ll deny everything.”
A corner of his mouth rises. “Noted.”
We start moving slowly back the way I came, and it becomes apparent within the first ten steps that I am not, in fact, walking with anything that could be mistaken for speed. Jack doesn’t comment on it. He matches me without making it obvious, adjusting his stride so naturally that it takes effort not to be annoyed by how grateful I am.
The tunnels of Dathanor curve around us in soft-lit arcs, the blue-green veins in the rock pulsing faintly. There’s less foot traffic in this stretch, though we still pass the occasional rebel carrying supplies or weapons or messages from one part of the settlement to another. A few glance my way, recognition flickering across their expressions, but no one stops us.
I’m glad for that. I don’t think I have the energy to be inveigled into another conversation if it requires me to look competent.
So I initiate one of my own instead.
“You and Solan,” I say after a while, mostly because if I focus too hard on the ache in my ribs, it’s going to become unbearable. “How’s that going?”
Jack glances sideways at me, expression shifting with something softer. “Good,” he says simply.
“Good?” I repeat. “That’s all I get? You’ve got a terrifying Pyronox warrior for a mate and all I’m getting is good?”
A low huff of amusement escapes him. “What do you want, exactly?”
“I don’t know. Details. Reassurance that one of us gets to have a functioning relationship.”
That earns me a proper laugh, quiet but real.
“He’d hate hearing you call him terrifying,” Jack says.
“Would he?”
“No.” Another hint of a smile. “He’d probably be secretly pleased.”
“Thought so.”
We round a bend, and the tunnel narrows slightly before opening again. The air here is cooler. Cleaner. I take a careful breath, trying to ignore how each inhale still drags a line of discomfort through my side.
