Page 216 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
“I do not,” said Tiberius, although there was no humour in his eyes. They stared downwards, and Aislinn wondered what had happened to his mother during the battle—what had happened to both of them. There would be time enough for the full story later, she had no doubt, but that was one part of the tale she was not too eager to hear.
“I pardon all the players in this sorry affair,” Minerva declared. “Aside from the main one, if he can be found.”
“Aeron is dead,” Aislinn announced.
A thin smile flushed Minerva’s cheeks. “Then let us have no more talk of politics tonight. The wounded need healing. The dead need burying. And that Mirror—”
“Needs to go back to the Deep,” Hawthorn agreed. “But not tonight.”
He waved his hands, and the floors started to knit back together, great chunks of rock soaring into the ceiling, connecting with the floor above. One by one, every tile, every pebble, every gemstone rolled into its proper place, leaving only the tombs empty.
“I would not wish to mislabel anyone,” he said. “Some things are better done by hand.”
Slowly but surely, the wounded were tended to, and the dead removed to the gardens until a formal burial could be arranged. Aislinn herself assisted with the healing of the mortal soldiers, although her magic did not extend to the dwarves.
Venus’ body was retrieved and placed in Clay’s tomb along with what remained of him, until a stonemason could craft a new one for the both of them. Tiberius came to sit beside her for a while, not speaking. Aislinn didn’t think any words would help.
Aeron’s body was burnt immediately, out of concern it might be desecrated, and also, possibly, the fear that he might somehow come back to life. Aislinn wondered if she should have tried harder to take him in alive—it seemed strange that a person who could orchestrate a conflict between three kingdoms should be so easily killed.
But in the end, he was as ordinary as the rest of them. He stood no chance against steel and stone.
The wounded dwarves were removed to a hospital outside of the palace walls, and Flora went with them without so much as a word to the others. It was hours before someone explained to her what happened in the waterway.
“What? But why—why would Flora do that?”
The dwarves just shrugged. “She has not yet explained.”
“Why isn’t Minerva more furious?”
“She is,” Bell explained. “She just has more important things to do.”
They sealed the Mirror inside the vault, only temporarily, along with Dillon’s coffin. It seemed strange to place him there amongst the treasures of the dwarves.
“He should be here,” Aislinn remarked, “celebrating with us.”
Caer kissed her head. “We’ll celebrate later,” he assured her. “Back in Acanthia.”
“You’re… coming to Acanthia with us?”
Caer smiled. “You sound surprised.”
“I just thought you might need to… the mortal world… your kingdom—”
Caer shook his head. “I’ve no interest in ruling,” he said. “I’ve already spoken to Owen. I’ve told him to go back and tell everyone I’m dead. I don’t think anyone will challenge his rule.”
Aislinn blinked at him. “But don’t you want to go home?”
Caer caught her face in his hands. “You’remy home, Ais. I don’t want to be anywhere that’s not right at your side.”
Aislinn breathed a huge sigh of relief, and her thoughts smiled at the idea that she’d set out on this quest with the sole purpose of bringing home a wayward prince. This wasn’t exactly what she’d envisioned.
She placed her hand against his neck, fingers brushing his beads.
Caer swallowed. “I’ve lost track of the number, now. I’m not sure how to—”
Aislinn closed her hand around his fingers. “I lost count a long time ago,” she said. “It’s the life we lead. I know you want to honour those you’ve hurt, but you were never those powers. I don’t think you’re any less of a good person if you let them go.”
“I don’t think I’ve made it right, yet.” Her hand moved over his heart. “You have the heart of a fae, Caer. You always have. You’ll have centuries to save lives in, to do wonders with. And I shall help you do them.”
