Page 68 of This Midsummer Heart
I sit and listen, to her plans for when we get to the City of Nox and for the House she wants to build with me. When I try to protest, she shakes her head, telling me she is no longer fit to be Houselord of the Fetes.
“Not without my magic.”
“You are so much more than your magic, Titaine.”
Still, she shakes her head. “No, it cannot be. Nor will I sit and rule over an empty House while my people wait for relief in Avalonne. We still have much work to do, you and I, to get our people to safety. And I want to start over with something I really excel at: studying magic. I’m going to find a way to get the runeboats working again.”
I continue to listen to her plans, her theories, offering input from time to time. Not that she really needs it. Titaine has always been brilliant when it came to the technicalities of magic. Now that all that acrimony is behind me, I’m free to admit it again.
Just as I can admit this:
I am the luckiest elf alive. And I amexactlywhere I am meant to be—even if I am not in Nox quite yet.
When Titaine yawns for a third time, I encourage her to get into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. I promise to return so we can eat supper together.
I close the door softly, my heart full as I make my way down the hall and out to the courtyard of La Casa Encantadora after a few wrong turns. My old friends are there waiting for me, their families resting in the broad shade of a tree. Though we are on the cusp of the winter season this far south, it still feels like summer. Even the misty Torreado Mountains are a mix of blue and brown on the horizon, the range stretching all the way to the City of Nox and beyond. Some day soon, when Titaine is fully recovered, we’ll follow its peaks to our new home.
For now, the sun is hot on my skin as I rejoin the dark elves who traveled from Nox to see me.
“Friends, my lady Titaine has some plans for us,” I announce. The captain, Karsten and even Leonora’s faces are open as they wait to hear what I’ll say. “As she is to be the lady of the House and our queen, I suppose we ought to accommodate her, don’t you?”
Leonora chuckles. “Being in love looks good on you, Auberon.”
“Everything looks good on me.”
She rolls her eyes, then asks, with barely a sliver of irony, “What does my king command?”
Epilogue
Robin the Puk
SixweekslaterthanI expected, Titaine and Auberon arrive at the gates of the City of Nox. I give myself a good stretch in my cat form, toes gripping the edge of the wall at Nox’s entrance.At last,I think,my gambit has come to a close.
Now it is time to see what my trickery has yielded: A stronger foothold for elves and fetes in a unified House, or deeper divisions that will see us swallowed by this vast city?
Below me, restless citizens of Nox mill on either side of the gate, speaking in every language inscribed there—even the ancient ones long-since forgotten in the rest of the woldings. Nox has more or less settled upon a couple of shared languages that make doing business possible, but in moments like these, where emotions run high, all the native tongues that exist behind these city walls come tripping from its people’s lips. After more than two months in this city, I can pick out all the words of excitement and anticipation.
As they have every day since word spread that the King of the Dark Elves and his fete Houselord Queen had reached the City of Ghosts, the crowds are gathering, hoping to catch a glimpse of these storied figures when they arrive. This time, the crowd’s numbers are growing by the minute, arriving from all corners of the city, thanks to an elven runner who brought the news. The number of eager spectators has increased ten-fold today.
Sentinels from deep within Nox, usually stationed around the great pyramid in Sombra Square, have been pulled to manage the crowd. They send people out through the gates, onto the mountain path, so that the last mile or so of Titaine’s and Auberon’s journey is flanked by cheering Noctans.
This is not a city that finds much unusual—especially not where magic is concerned. Something of the arrival of these two, however, has captured the local imagination.
I cannot blame them. The reports of the two leaders who took up temporary residence among Nadie’s shades and ghosts these last few weeks are so fantastical, I’m not sure even I, who know both Auberon and Titaine so well, could believe them.
Nox is an enormous, sprawling city that bleeds out into farmlands and a long stretch of coast. It’s practically its own country. Indeed, no one rules over Nox but Nox. But even now, I cannot grasp why the arrival of two more people of consequence makes much difference to the folk here. This city is brimming with legends, heroes, and beings of deep magic.
And then I see Auberon.Auberon.Not the warm glow of my lady Titaine, but that petty ex-Houselord I served for so long. From my perch atop the southern wall at Nox’s entrance, my whiskers detect a shift in the air as he approaches on foot, leading a flashy black and white steed that suits the Auberon I used to know, while Titaine rides on Giselda.
But these two are nothing like I recall them. Titaine’s light is dimmed, while Auberon, a half dark elf, isbrimmingwith chaotic and dark magic. And I cannot quite believe he is the same person I left behind in Avalonne.
The closer they come with the small retinue they’ve brought from Nadie, the louder the crowd grows. Many of the folk gathered here are human, and not all have magic. Even they can feel it.
I do not know what to make of any of this. So surprised am I that I barely register the way he and Titaine keep pace with each other, or how they appear to be in conversation the entire time, until it gets too loud around them to speak.
After five years of my scheming, they are finally back together, and I can barely register what is happening.
Somewhere between Avalonne and the City of Ghosts, Auberon became a true dark elf king.
