Page 108 of Somewhere down the Ley Line
Silence descended. The mercenaries retreated. The Arcaenum shimmered and pulsed quietly. There was a clatter of metal on stone somewhere nearby. Isolde turned. Felix was still standing where she’d left him, hands shaking, chest heaving. When she went to him, breathing out slowly and wrapping her arms around his waist, she witnessed the first time in his life he completely fell to pieces.
***
Isolde did not know how long they stood there, until his shoulders stopped shaking and his hold on her was no longer crushing. She lifted her chin to see the haunted look on his face, the wet rivulets left behind on his cheeks. She reached up to brush them away, but he caught her hand and pressed his face into her palm, closing his eyes.
“Are you alright?” she asked quietly.
He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “No.”
“Luella is gone.” A lump rose in her throat as she said it.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
His eyes opened and gazed intently into hers. “It’s not yours either.”
Isolde bit her lip and nodded, but Kaeloth’s words echoed in her mind.How many lives? How many sacrifices?
Footsteps approached them. Felix slowly released her, his hand brushing down her arm, before they turned toward their friends. Mia reached them first. She gave Felix a gentle shove out of the way and wrapped Isolde in a fierce embrace. “You were brilliant,” she whispered in her ear. “I’ll never see anything like this again in my lifetime. You’ve given the world a story, a song for the ages. Luella would be so proud.”
She buried her face in Mia’s shoulder and finally let the tears come.
When she regained control of her voice, Leif was next to her. His face was blotchy, but he still managed a crooked half-smile. “So… you didn’t die,” he said in a voice rough with emotion. “And you freed the… that.” He gestured towards the Arcaenum.
Isolde let out a short laugh that immediately turned into a sob. She wiped her face with her sleeve, shaking her head. “Sorry. I can’t –”
Leif pulled her into a quick, one-armed hug. “You don’t have to say anything.” He frowned, glancing between her and Felix. “When we came in, you were…”
“Don’t,” Felix said thickly. She felt his eyes on her neck, on the small, stinging cut there. Mia squeezed her hand.
Leif looked abashed. “Right. Um, where’s Garren?”
Isolde looked around the room. The four mages were on the floor, out cold. The Black Bear mercenaries were quietly dealing with their wounded and fallen. Finally, her eye fell on Garren, kneeling down next to Luella. She started in his direction, but the mercenary captain, Hawes, and two of his lieutenants intercepted her. Even though they seemed to have shifted their allegiance, she took an involuntary step back at the sight of them approaching, bumping into Felix.
“Well,” Hawes said, nodding toward the unconscious mages, “you certainly made your point.”
Isolde straightened. “They’re still alive. The same cannot be said for my friend.”
“Or some of my people. No, don’t misunderstand me,” he said, holding his palms up when she opened her mouth to retort. “I do not blame you for any of this. Or your… friends. I meant what I told that mage. All this… This was not what we agreed on.”
Isolde raised her eyebrows. “Whatdidyou agree on?”
“To help the mages eliminate or capture a dangerous, out of control individual with unstable magical powers.” Hawes scoffed. “That was the brief. How they told it, you blasted your way out of Azuill and left a trail of corpses in your wake. Then I met you, back in the Surgelands, and well… It didn’t sit right. Any of it. But I didn’t have time to discuss it with the other captain before you decided to sneak in here at night, and he’s dead now. So…” He nodded at her pointedly. “What happens next, Lady Isolde?”
A murmur ran through those assembled. Garren rose and joined them, crossing his arms. Leif looked bewildered. Even Mia, ever confident, bit her lip and kept silent. All of them were looking at her. The weight of it was suddenly too heavy to bear, all these eyes full of questions she didn’t yet have answers to.
To her surprise, it was Garren who stepped up.
“Right now,” he said, “nothing happens. You have your dead and wounded to deal with. So do we. I suggest, if my lady agrees, that we all take some time to restand recuperate. This conversation can wait.” He looked at Isolde. She nodded her approval, overcome by a fierce wave of gratitude.
***
Dawn was breaking in the east as they emerged onto the staircase. Golden light spilled over the ancient stones, illuminating the grand complex, blending with the blue glow of magic that cascaded out of the Nexus, along inscriptions on buildings, on walls and on statues.
Two people in robes stood at the base of the stairs, staring anxiously up at them. One was Caelian, the mage who had escorted them.
Felix stepped in front of Isolde so fast she barely registered it. “What do you want?” he called down, axe drawn. No dagger, she noticed absently.
