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“I’m fine.” Elyria hadn’t meant to sound curt, wasn’t trying to be rude—for once. But she really, really, really did not want anyone’s pity right now. If she let it come from one of them, it would come from all of them, and that was a wave Elyria did not have the fortitude to fend off at present.

“Of course,” said Elder Larkess with a slow nod. “I would never mean to suggest you are anything but.” Her milky eyes drifted to where Cedric, Young Shep, and Jocelyn still sat at the table several yards back. With a slow nod, the elder began moving forward again.

Thraigg cleared his throat, though it seemed less due to emotion and more to fill the lingering silence as the three of them shuffled back to the group. “I have a travel tip for ye, Rev.”

Elyria couldn’t help the way her mouth quirked. “Oh?”

“Aye. If anyone ever tries to suggest to ye that traveling with three bloody horses across half the bloody continent is a bloody good idea, tell them to fuck right off, will ye?”

“Am I to take it that Polonius has arrived unharmed, then?” Cedric’s hand was warm on the side of Elyria’s waist as he drew her against him the instant she sat down.

Thraigg offered a sardonic smile and a rude gesture to the knight as he took a seat opposite him. “Yer horse is fine. It’s Noxie’s fusspot of a steed that caused all the problems. At least Polonius followed Hops and me without issue. Getting Vespyr to do the same was a right pain in my arse.”

Cedric tilted his head. “But why would⁠—”

“She’s a beautiful horse but not the smartest. I mean, thinking she could canter right off into the shadows to follow her rider?”

Elyria blinked. “Follow them where? Where did Nox go?”

Thraigg didn’t seem to hear her, too lost was he in his ranting. “A one-dwarf traveling circus, I was. Juggler of reins. Tamer of beasts. Toter of everyone’s stars-damned baggage.” He barked a single, sharp laugh, then pointed a finger at Cedric. “Ye, I don’t blame. Had more important places to be, understandably.” With a wink at Elyria, he swiped Cedric’s cup from the tabletop and took a swig, frowning into the glass when he presumably realized there was only water inside.

“Focus, my friend,” said Cedric with a good-natured roll of his eyes.

“It was supposed to be an easy trip back, mind ye. Not much happened after you left. Noxie exchanged a few words with the Dark Warden that I hadn’t a chance in all four quarters of understandin’. Then we bowed, we prayed, we carried on. Tiptoed past that blasted dragon again, traipsed back down the mountain. And that, I’d thought, was that. Sid had popped off to Gaia knows where. And with a certain nocterrian by my side, toting Polonius along was no skin off my back.” He thumped his fist on the table. “But then that shadowy arsehole had to go and fuck off to somewhere else.”

“Nox isn’t here with you?” Elyria asked.

“Well, they wouldn’t be here regardless, would they?” Cedric said. “Not inside the sanctuary, I mean. The last time we visited, they waited for the rest of us out in the woods with Sid.”

Elyria’s brow furrowed at the sudden wave of unease pulsing down the bond from him. She wanted to ask him more about that, but Thraigg was carrying on again.

“No, the right bastard isn’t here. Said they’d meet up with us as soon as possible and slid right off Vespyr’s back into a shadow before I had the chance to raise a single question.” He sighed. “Whether Noctis summoned them back or they needed to take a detour for some other stars-damned reason, ye’ve got me.”

Elyria swallowed. Cedric had explained Nox’s ties to the Warden of Shadows, had caught her up on everything he’d learned about their mysterious nocterrian friend, but she was still having trouble wrapping her head around it all. “Well, at any rate, if Nox isn’t here, why are we even bothering to discuss⁠—”

“They will be here,” said Elder Larkess softly. “We have someone stationed at the entrance, keeping an eye out. As soon as the nocterrian arrives, we will know, and you can retrieve your wings.”

“If that’s what you want,” Cedric added quickly.

“Well, o’ course that’s what she wants.” Thraigg’s expression was disbelieving as his gaze bounced between Elyria and Cedric.

“Thraigg.” Cedric’s voice was low, warning.

“What? Why wouldn’t it be? Ye’ve a chance to fly again, lass. Ye’ll take it, won’t ye?”

“Thraigg.” This time it was Jocelyn issuing the reprimand, and Thraigg made a face like he wanted to say something else but managed to hold it in.

Elyria bit her bottom lip. Her eyes drifted over all those present—first Cedric beside her, then Young Shep and Jocelyn, their faces creased with concern. She skated over Thraigg, who looked mildly perplexed, before meeting Elder Larkess’s assessing gaze once more.

The elder stood at the head of the table now, her palms braced against the smooth wood. Cedric rose from his seat, offering it to her, but she shook her head with a soft laugh. “Very considerate, my boy, but these limbs no longer climb on and off benches. Should I take your seat there, I fear it’s where I’ll live out the rest of my days.”

A mix of chuckles and gentle protests rang around the table, and despite herself, Elyria found she wanted to join in. More than that though, that surge of wild in her veins was pulsing again. It had been since the instant she had returned to Cedric’s side, as though her power was amplified by his very touch.

She lifted her hand, curling each of her fingers in toward her palm, one by one. A breeze swept across the table, the ground shaking gently as vines and brambles broke through the grass directly behind the elder. There was a surprised yelp and an awed whisper, though Elyria didn’t know who either came from as she wove the plants together—creating four sturdy legs, a tall back, a flattened seat.

Elder Larkess let out a delighted hum when the chair was complete, a throne of branches and vines. Cedric pressed his lips to Elyria’s temple, and pride unfurled in her chest. It banished some of the cold that had snaked its way into her mind when it came to her power. She’d gone months without touching her wild magic. She’d had her shadows turned against her. Perhaps this was part of the reason she felt so at ease here, so free. Her shadows were quiet, and thus it was so easy not to think about them. Not to think about what they meant, what could happen—what had happened—with them, should she face Malakar again.

For a little while, at least.