Page 96 of The Source of Storms

Crow, El, and the wolves kept watch as I curled up in Byrgir’s lap.

“You know, we haven’t seen them since you were taken.” He nodded toward the wolves. “They followed you after the battle, right after a healer took care of Vardir’s wounds. We found them in the woods near Avanis when we were scouting the terrain, planning our attack.”

“Zisorah told me there had been attacks in the forest. Said the locals were whispering of werewolves.”

“Must have been those two trying to find you,” Byrgir said.

He leaned back against a large tree and stroked my hair as I drifted into sleep. Deep, heavy, delightfully quiet slumber. The dreamless sleep of the dead. Safe at last.

∞∞∞

Byrgir roused me gently, but far too soon. El handed me a hot mug of tea and bowl of porridge as I sat up. I was groggy, and my head pounded, but I was grateful once again for her fire magic. A warm breakfast without smoke and flames.

We climbed into our saddles and soon rode into familiar mountains. And I felt it. Felt the tug of the Arcaena River deep in the distant rock above us, before it even reached the surface. Sensed the great, slumbering giants of trees cloaked in mist in that hidden valley. Tasted the salt spray from the sheltered shore.

We reached the final mountain saddle above Rhyanaes and there it was, dressed in the deep, warm browns, reds, and oranges of fall. Alpine meadows of red heather and crowberry danced in the breeze around us, dotting the slopes with chromatic splashes of deep crimson. The sun sparkled off distant ocean waves in the fjord. The dark towers of ancient trees loomed steadfast and welcoming in their deep, lively green. Through it all, the Arcaena River glittered in the rare fall sun, luminescent and magic, as if made from jumbled sapphires and emeralds tumbling down high mountain stones.

I put my hand to my mouth and tried to stifle a sob, but failed. I gazed down into the valley, at that sacred, blessed city, and wept. I wept for everything I had left behind, everything I had missed. I wept for Eilith, alone and cold in that barren,lifeless cell. I wept for El and Crow, and the stressful, sleepless nights they had spent planning my rescue. I wept for Byrgir, for how my heart had broken as he screamed for me when we were separated that night, and how it had broken every day since. For the pain I had heard in his voice, seen in his eyes when he looked at me. How I had longed for him with an ache that cracked my bones, split my very being.

And I wept for myself. I wept for the woman I had been when they’d taken me. Wept for the woman I had become since. Wept for the woman that died in that cell. The innocence, peace, and compassion I was terrified I may never get back. All the times I thought I would not survive it. All the times I thought I would never see this sight again.

But I had survived it. I was here, really here, standing on this mountainside, looking down at my home.

Byrgir pulled me down from my saddle with gentle insistence and held me in the golden sunlight, cradling me while I cried great, heaving sobs. I looked up to see tears glinting on his cheeks too. El sniffled behind us, and I glanced around Byrgir to see her wiping her eyes.

“Oh, come here,” she said and walked to us, arms wide. She grabbed us both in a tight embrace. “Come on, Crow, you too.” She waved him over.

“Somebody has to stay on watch,” Crow argued.

“Now, Crow!” El demanded, and he yielded to her commanding tone. I chuckled through my tears, tucked under Byrgir’s shoulder and held tightly by El. Crow joined us in what I’m sure was one of the strangest spectacles this mountainside had seen in many years. Two fae women and two human men, sniffling in the chilly autumn sun.

As they held me tight, the sobbing subsided. The deep, wracking, heaving breaths mellowed, and my tears stopped. We broke apart and stood looking into the brilliance of the valley,arms still around one another. Byrgir pulled me close and kissed the top of my head.

A feast awaited us in El’s home. Our home. A medley of delectable smells met us at the door –– the cook had been busy in anticipation of our return. Roasted vegetables with fennel seeds and garlic, potatoes with rosemary, warm loaves of hot dark rye bread, garden greens, pan-seared salmon, wild asparagus roasted with more garlic, thick venison steaks, red wine, and mead.

I was overwhelmed. I had eaten little more than porridge and bread these last months. I ate too much too quickly and had to pace myself. It was odd, thinking of them preparing for this, planning something as ordinary as dinner for my arrival, as if they were just waiting for me to return from a long trip away. Strange to think of them living their lives in this house while I was in what had felt like another world entirely. It felt surreal to be back.

We sat around the table for hours, talking, eating, drinking. Afternoon passed into evening as El caught me up on everything I had missed that summer: How Byrgir had told her and Crow who my father was after the battle in Rhyanaes was over; how they’d crafted a plan for my rescue quickly, but the Council had been divided on whether to allow them to use the forces of the Rangers and the Keepers to retrieve me; how debates had stretched for weeks, until El finally revealed to them who I was and what potential I carried.

“I’m sorry, Hal,” she said. “I know it wasn’t my secret to tell. But we needed all the help we could get, and they were, again, uncertain it was worth risking open war. Many of the Rangers and Keepers would have followed us, but they would have risked not only their lives, but their livelihoods too if they didn’t have Council approval.”

“We knew we would only have one shot,” Byrgir added. “And if we went in with too few people, or without the right people, and didn’t get you out on that first go, we might not be able to get you back at all.”

“Once they knew who they’d lost, what an asset you could be, they were all for it,” Crow said. “Then we just had to get everyone to agree on a plan.”

“Which took even longer,” El continued. “We all knew there would be consequences no matter what we did, so we debated which way would be best to go about it. But Crow told us all along that getting you out would require an open attack on the Temple.”

“An attack everyone craved, though,” Byrgir said. “All of Rhyanaes was thirsty for blood after what they did to us.”

“But it had to be played right,” Crow went on. “It had to succeed, and we couldn’t lose anyone else as hostages to the High Priestess. We debated a stealthy extraction, getting you out with minimal losses and no living witnesses. But that place is a fuckin’ fortress, and the wards make communication inside nearly impossible.”

“In the end,” El said, “we decided that war was what the Paragons had asked for, so war was what we’d bring them.”

“It helped that you turned into a massive wolf,” Crow added.

“Yes, how long have you known you could do that?” El asked.

“I found out when you did.” I chuckled. “But, in hindsight, I should have expected it, right? Given who my parents are.”

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