If she hadn’t known any better, Aisling might have thought the glamour was dampening the sounds around them. Birds calling, wind whispering through the tall pines. A trickling brook nearby, maybe, or a twig snapping underfoot of a passing buck. But she did know better—there were no sounds now. No life, no movement save for their own. The forest of Elowas was as still and unchanging as a painted mural. The uncanny nature of it all tugged at something in Aisling’s muscles that urged her to run, as hard and as fast as she could in any direction at all. She couldn’t tell if that was her own overwrought psyche or the forest itself attempting to lure her away from safety and deeper into its grasp. Either way, she had little choice but to keep in step with the others. She cursed their slow pace, but they couldn’t risk tripping or losing their bearings as they pushed through the dense vegetation so gradually she hardly felt as though they were hardly making any progress at all.
“Up ahead,” Rodney said quietly, gesturing with his chin to a break in the trees. It was then that Aisling wished instead that they had moved even slower. She wasn’t ready for what awaited them there at the crossroads. She wasn’t ready to do what needed to be done.
Kael sensed Aisling’s hesitation and allowed her to come to a stop. When Rodney and Raif both looked back, he waved them off.
“Go; we will follow. There is little need for the glamour now.”
Rodney let the magic dissipate and Aisling drew in a lungful of damp air, heady with the scent of pine. Kael let his hands fall to her hips, steadying her as the weight of the woven magic was lifted from their shoulders.
“I won’t get used to that,” she muttered.
“Nor must you. I would hope this will not become a regular occurrence.” He released her just long enough to brush a few strands of hair from her face before once more resting his hands on her waist.
She could have stayed that way forever: his hold on her firm, his chest so close it grazed hers each time they inhaled. Both standing still, locked into each other’s gravity. There was nothing else but the two of them and the way he made her feel, safe and centered.
“How are you always so unafraid?” Aisling asked. She felt just as she had in his chambers when he’d dressed her in too-large chainmail before she left with Lyre for The Cut. He’d been calm then, too. He’d given her the chance to be fearful, and had promised to take a turn being brave. He always had been, though.
His lips curved into a rueful smile. “I’ve never felt afraid as often as I have with you.”
Aisling huffed out a short breath. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“It is—it’s a very good thing. I was afraid to love you, to let you close to me, to show you my darkness. You quelled that fear. Now, I am afraid to lose you. Afraid to let you go.” He tightened his grip on her as if to emphasize his point before he continued, “It is a fear I’d never like to be rid of, because it will keep you in my heart, always. It will bring me back to you, always.”
“Stop talking like you’re saying goodbye.” Aisling’s voice was thick as her throat constricted. She brought her hands to his chest and gripped fistfuls of his rough tunic. If she held onto him hard enough, maybe they could truly stay that way. Maybe she wouldn’t cry, maybe he wouldn’t sacrifice. Maybe neither of them would have to hurt again.
“Aisling.” He said her name quietly, then waited for her to look at him. When she did, his expression was honest and unguarded. “This is not goodbye. I promise you. Ipromiseyou.”
He swore it so fiercely she nearly believed him.
Unwilling to let the waiting tears spill over, Aisling pulled him down and claimed his lips with hers with an urgency she made no attempt to conceal. She needed this, needed him, if only for another moment. Kael’s arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer in, and she wound her fingers into her hair to pull him nearer still.
“I love you, Kael Elethyr Ardhen,” she whispered into the kiss. The intimacy of her admission, and the way he seemed to breathe it in, left her feeling utterly exposed and drew a blush to bloom across her cheeks. He noticed, brushing a thumb over the warm skin as if he were painting the color on himself.
“I thought once that you seemed my mirror: reflecting me back, reflecting the things I wished I could not see in myself. Someone who was controlled. Who was told, rather than asked, what their future would look like.” He shook his head. “But I was wrong. You are not my reflection, Aisling Morrow—you are theother half of me. Thebetterhalf of me. The half that I have been missing for a very, very long time.”
Her heart swelled, every feeling filling her much too big to contain. This was what she’d so longed for—the reunion she’d never allowed herself to dream of as she waited for Merak to open the moon gate. It was everything she’d once thought she wouldn’t have, so convinced that she was too adrift in her own life to find the shoreline and a place to dock.
“And,” he added, “I will not be apart from you again. Where we go now, we go together.”
She let herself sink into the comfort of those words, so wrapped up in them she could only nod in response. So fully buried beneath an avalanche of feeling that it hardly registered when Kael began to guide her towards the crossroads where Raif and Rodney waited for them. She was at once both floating and drowning, overjoyed and heartbroken.
But, above all else, steadfast in her determination to bring an end to this and to finally, finally bring Kael home.
“Do you think he already knows we’re here?” Rodney asked, glancing over his shoulder like he expected Yalde to have appeared whilst his back was turned.
“Yes,” Kael said. “That was our aim. But we have little time left; we must do it now, and do it quickly.”
Rodney positioned himself in front of Kael, the dagger gripped so tight in his hand that his knuckles had blanched white around its hilt. Aisling took her place at his side. Her heart thudded hard against her ribs and Rodney’s heavy breathing beside her was muffled by the sound of her own blood rushing in her ears. Never had it been more important that she remain calm, and never had that seemed so far out of reach.
“You can do this, Aisling,” Kael said low. His silver eyes burned into hers relentlessly, holding her there with him. She nodded.
“Wecan do this, Ash,” Rodney amended, shuffling closer so their shoulders touched. Though his words were encouraging, his expression was uncharacteristically grave. Even beneath those vulpine features, she hardly recognized him.
“I know.” She didn’t, and that was clear in her voice. But she hoped that maybe if she said it with enough conviction, she might begin to believe her own lie. So she said again, a bit louder this time: “I know.”
“What do you need from me?” Raif asked.
Kael drew himself up to his full height, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin. “Ensure I am still standing when it’s over. I will not go to my knees before him.”