Page 94 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams
Leon doesn’t say anything else as I gather my things and leave the room. But I can feel every inch of his sorrow in my own heart. At least now I know what it means—I’m tied to him with a bond that will not break, no matter how much I wish in this moment that my pain was just my own.
Chapter 30
Leon
Isleep badly that night. It’s a rare thing for me. Usually, I can slip into the world of dreams as easily as closing my eyes. It’s only in the early hours, when a fresh wave of frustration washes over me, that I realize I must be feeling Ana’s disturbed sleep too.
I think about her lying in a room a few doors down from me, and I feel the separation like an ache in my muscles.
At least she’s not having nightmares. She’s not had any of those since we went to Agathyre. If she did, I’d definitely go to her. Never mind whether she’s speaking to me in the waking world, I wouldn’t let her go through that alone. Maybe she’d be angry, maybe she’d order me away, but I’d have to at least try. As long as she’s safe and well, her resentment is a small price to pay.
Apparently, that’s part of the problem. The sacrifices I’m willing to make to look out for Ana don’t feel like sacrifices to her, but manipulations.
It hurt, seeing her react so strongly to the truth about the mooring. Perhaps I was a fool to keep it from her, but she refuses to see it was the kindest thing. Thefairestthing. Or at least, I thought it was. I haven’t had much practice thinking about what’s kind or fair in my life. It’s possible I miscalculated.
I rise the next morning knowing that we’ll have to talk again—settle this once and for all. Just one night away from her was unpleasant enough. I’m not going through that again.
When I find her in one of the dining rooms of the Crossed Keys, she’s already deep in conversation with Lafia. I stand watch by the doorway, waiting until she’s done talking to the ex-cleric.
“Is everything well with her?” I ask when Ana finally rises to meet me.
“All things considered,” Ana says. “Though she says she’s had some run-ins with that Hand member Cettar.”
“What kind of run-ins?” I ask, my voice deepening into a growl. Lafia’s just a young girl, and I’ve never liked the look of that miserable bastard.
“He’s not happy about having any of us around. Lafia says he’s always muttering something about clerics and Filusians and how we shouldn’t be allowed into the Hand.”
“Should we speak to Harman about this?” I ask.
“No. I offered, but she says she can handle him. Although maybe next timeyourun into Cettar, you can scare a little politeness into the man,” she says. Her mouth starts to twist into a smile, but she quickly drops it.
“Weshouldspeak to Harman about our trip though,” she says. “There’s a lot to tell him.”
“We,” I repeat. “You don’t want to go alone?”
She shakes her head. “There’s no reason we should ignore each other. We’re moored, for gods’ sakes, it’s not like we can?—”
She stops herself.
“No, I don’t want to go alone,” she says in a neutral voice, but of course I can feel the emotion swirling beneath the surface.
We meet with Harman in his office again, and I’m reminded of his news from yesterday. I’ve been trying not to think about the fact that half my soldiers aren’t back from the capital yet. The potential reasons are too violent and ugly to consider.
But it’s also not the first time I’ve had to wait, wondering if my friends were alive or dead. If you fight alongside each other for long enough, you get some practice at it. I lean on that wealth of experience now as I focus on Harman’s words, using them as a distraction while he thinks over what we’ve told him.
“So we need to find the tokens, wherever they may be, before Caledon does,” Harman muses, leaning back in his chair.
“You don’t seem particularly surprised,” Ana says.
Harman glances at me. “Well, Alastor told me most of it last night.”
“Of course he did,” I sigh. “That fae never met a piece of gossip he didn’t like to share.”
“Thatfaeis about to bring you a very good piece of gossip,” comes Alastor’s voice as he sticks his head around the door. Hope surges in my chest, and I abruptly stand.
“Is it?—?”
“Yes,” he says, grinning. “They’re back.”
