Though neither of them stood down or even glanced away, they tensed in unison at Ceri’s unexpected cry, the rapid scuff of her footsteps. It was only when she wedged herself between them that Kai dropped his cousin’s cold and incredulous stare.
“Why,” Ceri grunted, shoving Kai back a step, “are you twoscreamingat each other?”
“What are you doing here, Ceriwyn?” Kai said, just to buy himself a moment to calm his own pulse, the steady green beat against his chest that gave away his every raging thought. “Didn’t we agree to meet at the manor?”
“We were—We just—” Ceri stuttered, and Kai finally looked at her; she was flushed and breathless, as though she’d run here. Though she can’t have been that far away if she’d overheard them. Al hovered behind her, equally winded, his eyes darting wearily from Os, to Kai, to Ceri, who was still half-stammering. Then she shook her head, shaking off that hesitation and said, “Thank the Mother we waited, you look ready to rip each other apart.”
“It’s fine,” said Os, and he took a step back. “We’re done.”
The finality of that sentence dropped through Kai like a rock cutting through the wildest current.We’re done.Kai could see he meant it too; whatever multitude of meanings those two words held, Os spoke them like an oath. The glow of Kai’s pendant guttered, and the shift of shadows across his cousin’s face turned it from furious to hollow.
Then Oswalt turned, for a final time, and walked out.
“Os, wait,” Ceri called, but he didn’t.
Ceri still had her hand on Kai’s shoulder, as though to let go was to risk him tearing after their cousin. She wasn’t lookingat him, though; her gaze had flicked to Al, who nodded at something wordless passed between them.
“I’ll get him,” he said quietly, and left the room. As soon as he had, Ceri was on him.
“What’s gotten into you, Koo? What is this about?”
Kai ducked his shoulder, shrugging out of her grasp.
“I’m tired of stirring up the same stagnant water. We’re wasting time.”
She reached for him again, stopping him with a hand on his arm as he tried to edge past, bending her head to search for his gaze. He paused only to avoid tripping over her, eyes arching to the ceiling as he threw his head back with exasperation.
“No,” Ceri said, “wehavetime. Haven’t we all agreed that weneedtime?”
His gaze snapped down with a flash of green.
“Youhave agreed. All of you have agreed that we should sit around talking. I amthroughtalking, Ceriwyn. Eda is dead, and talking won’t undo that. Butactingmight undo the Frost.”
“Even so,” Ceri said, stepping into his path once more. He didn’t miss the way her eyes flicked to the pendant, the worried tug between her brows. “We can spare five minutes. You have nowhere to rush off to an hour before dawn.”
Kai said nothing, and Ceri’s eyes narrowed.
“Koo,” she said sharply. “No.”
“You can tell Os,” he said coldly, “that I’m fulfilling my duty to the Laune.”
He moved around her, a wider step this time that left her stumbling after him, half-running to catch up as he ducked beneath the archway.
“Kai, don’t youdaremartyr yourself and say it’s for us,” she huffed as she hurried alongside him in the dark, still grabbing at his arm. “It wouldn’t even be foryou, the only person who wins if you rush in there without a plan is Avette. Kai,look at me.”
She gave one final, desperate tug on his arm, and Kai stopped short, whirling to face her. His jaw ached, teeth splintering, fists curling as his blood beat in his veins like a storm, the waters whispering to him from afar. A low, mournful call, the Mother enticing him to loose some of that thunder from his veins. It had been building in him all night, and he knew it was too much to hold beneath his skin. Knew it was grating at his insides like the soot and saltwater in his throat; knew he’d need to release it soon. But he also knew exactly what he would do with that otherworldly call. Where those waters would bear him, if he could only get to the docks fast enough.
Ceri stared up at him with wide, horrified eyes. The only light in the hallway came from the faraway glow of the dining hall’s candles, and the steady shine of green between them.
“What about Adeline?” she whispered.
And as though her whisper were a gust of wind, the pendant’s light spluttered, waned; dimmer when it renewed.
“Adeline will be perfectly content here.” It was the first place she’d ever felt loved, and safe in that love. She had said that. It was not a lie; he couldn’t say why it tasted like one. “She’ll be safe here, with the Vanjir. She’ll be happy.”
“And if you get yourself killed?” Ceri challenged. “You think she’ll stand a chance at happiness then?”
“I do,” he said, and those words, too, were sour. “Adeline and I have always understood what this is. That our people come first, and anything between us would always come with certain … caveats.”
