Page 223 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

“Silas is eliminating the lower links first,” Cai said, plopping beside me, stealing my drink and taking a big gulp. “But those lower links can still walk themselves toward the zgahna. And considering the witch has gotten particularly witty and wily these days, I wouldn’t find it odd if they could breathe through it.”

“How long have you been casting guard over Myrdur?” Eren asked, turning to us.

Cai leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “For the first decade you couldn’t step in Myrdur even if you wanted to. The floor was tar, it burned and ate your flesh and soul. Souls clung to the land with all their might. I was around sixteen, living in Kilerth and training with Alaric when we first heard of the scavengers lurking in the ruins for gold, diamonds, artefacts. Then came the Crafters stealing and digging graves and bones to strengthen their craft.” My friend breathed hard and his eyes dropped stolid on the ground. “Wearing my people around their necks and wrists like jewellery and belts. The unblessed grew curious, they too came and ventured, trampled the ground and took a stone from a ruin or two as a memory of their visit over the graves of my family. Solaryans wanted to see if they could shine life inside the ruins again—they left before even trying. Hanaians planted Soren and left after their roses withered in this soil. Isjordians came last. About two years ago. Curious at first. We thought they wanted to make sure someone was not rebuilding Olympia and now we find out about the sceptre. I’ve been guarding this land for almost half of my life.”

Eren kneeled before him, resting a hand on his knee. “It won’t be for the rest of it, Cai. We will deal with my father, one way or another. And you will get to walk these streets again. Not to guard them. To live.”

My friend leaned forward, inches away from Eren’s face. “Such a king like promise, Your Highness.”

I blinked between them, eating the cashews Cai had given me. Did they even see I was sitting with them?

My brother’s eyes dropped to Cai’s mouth. “You seem to like them regardless.”

Standing, I unsheathed my sword. “I’m sure someone just called for me. Oh yes,” I said, cupping a hand over my ear. “Second hand embarrassment, I’m coming.”

“No,” Eren said, grinning. “What is embarrassing is that my little sister has kissed the man I want to kiss.”

Nubil. “You told him?”

Cai shrugged. “Transparency.” He smirked and looked down at my brother still kneeling before him. “You want to kiss me?”

And that was my cue.

By the time I bolted to Adriata, all my limbs were sore.

Mal sat with Thora and Driada on the garden patio, they were all chatting amongst one another, laughing and smiling. Deciding not to disturb their peace with the scent of battle and trouble, I headed upstairs to Kilian.

He too sat among the snake fire of battle and trouble, but his scent was of spring flowers. “Hello, love.”

Too tired, I took off my leathers and climbed into bed. “Good night.”

I tried to sleep. Tried really hard. But my mind was still fighting and planning and buzzing. So I stood, wrapping the sheet tightly against me and crawling in Kilian’s lap. He rounded his arms around me, that sweet scent of his working like a lullaby hushing all other noise.

Safe. So safe. Like a net. But I was fish out of water, and I was struggling to breathe somewhere I didn’t know how to breathe in. And he was teaching me. Little by little. To get out of the waters I’d known all my life and learn to live on this land.

His fingers kneaded my sore muscle, his lips leaving kisses on the crown of my head and that land felt warm, my lungs stronger. “Should I come to bed with you?”

I shook my head. “Just speak to me, anything.”

“Do you want me to tell you about my day?”

“Yes. Tell me.”

The second I rested my head on his shoulder, and his voice formed long verses of the most random sentences, sleep took over—dreamless, spring scented sleep.

Chapter thirty-four

Dius

Snowlin

The moment I bolted back to Olympia, I knew something was wrong. Soldiers were frantically running all over the corridors, several Volantians were dropping from the terrace rushing south.

“Myrdur is under attack,” Cai shouted running toward me. “Kvan and Amur, too. Head north to Amur, Tristin and the Skye are heading to Kvan to help Cori.”

Why was my father so persistent in crossing the mist, had he not realised he’d lost the sceptre? I shook my head. “Send someone else north, Cori needs more help.”

He clasped my shoulder. “North, Snow. Volantians are down in Myrdur. You can get there the fastest.”