Page 86 of Heart's Escape

I nod and smile at Elyon, then glance down the table to break eye contact before I end up agreeing to something I’ve only half understood. The only other person at the table who looks shocked is Alindra. Our eyes meet, but she turns away so quickly I could almost believe looking at me is physically painful.

Well, of course it is. Alindra would know that better than anyone. I swallow hard around the lump in my throat, thank Elyon for whatever it is that he’s telling me, and grab an elegant crystal glass of something dark to extricate myself from our conversation. Everyone else is grinning like the fox who stole the moon as they shake hands and congratulate Rowan or, stars above, even thank him. But they’re all watching him too, and the part of me that trained for decades to join the Royal Guard notices how no one ever quite turns their back on my brother.

They’re all being very kind, yes. And they’re also all afraid of him. I sigh into my glass, sending ripples across the opaque liquid. That’s a depressing similarity between the Worlds Above and the Lands Below. Everyone is always afraid of Rowan, whether they admit it or not. Perhaps we’re always going to be outcasts.

My eyes drift back to Alindra. She’s sitting at the table with her back straight and a somewhat dazed expression on her face, like she’s still not quite sure how she ended up sharing a table with a disturbingly polite massive green dragon. My lips twist into a smile that I quickly hide behind my glass. That’s exactly how I felt when a half-dozen dragons dropped from the sky with a voids-damned wooden table, chairs, and enough fancy food to feed the entire World’s End.

Later that night, as Alindra slept under blankets the dragons had brought her, the man named Elyon arrived on horseback, along with several other elven diplomats from kingdoms whose names all seemed to be some poetic variation on geographical features. Stars, if I’d ever known the Worlds Above contained so many different elven kingdoms, I’d long ago forgotten. The names of the kingdoms and their diplomats blurred together instantly, and I found myself wishing the dragons had brought more wine so I’d at least have an excuse for forgetting everything I’d been told.

Rowan just smiled, crossed his arms over his chest, and told the dragons and the diplomats what he was going to do. Which was impossible, but for some reason, everyone took him seriously. Even the damned dragons, although there was some sort of a flutter about whether or not they should get the queen involved.

Rowan said we could wait. I said that wouldn’t be necessary; the last thing I wanted was to face down some sort of dragon queen. Then there was a very long conversation about favors and diplomatic relations that I only half followed. My eyes kept drifting back to the pine grove, to where we’d left Alindra. Who, when she finally woke up, ignored me completely.

Which is fine. It’s the best solution, really. Alindra can’t stay in my world, and honestly, why would she want to? I have nothing to offer her. Not anymore. I glance down at the trampled grass beneath my boots as my missing arm throbs through my elegant illusion.

“Phae,” Rowan hisses from across the table. “What in the hells is wrong with you?”

I glance up.

“You’re killing the mood,” he says, in a whisper that’s way too loud.

“Shut up,” I growl.

Rowan grins at me as the rising sun catches in his hair, making it look almost translucent.

“Come on,” he says. “We won. Don’t you want to go home?”

Home. Yeah. Of course. I try to smile at Rowan, and at everyone else in the meadow, the elves and the dragon and the couple of humans who apparently represent yet another kingdom interested in whatever the hells it is we’re about to do.

Everyone is acting like this is important, like we’ve just agreed on something monumental. Another man I barely recognize shakes my hand and starts to say something about trade routes, and I realize my eyes are tracing the back of Alindra’s neck again as Elyon bends over the table to talk to her. She smiles up at him. Something low and bitter closes like a fist in my gut.

Home. Yes. I should be going.

* * *

“You know,you should probably talk to her,” Rowan says.

“You know, you should probably mind your own fucking business,” I growl.

“Well, aren’t we in a charming mood today?” he asks. “Too much dragon wine last night?”

Yes, but I’m not about to admit it. I scowl, wrap an illusion around my torso, and then sit up just far enough to throw a pillow at Rowan. He dodges. My pillow flies out through the open tent door and lands with a plop in something that’s probably mud. Great.

“Just because everyone else around here kisses your ass, don’t expect me to follow suit,” I grumble as I drag myself out of bed and try not to wince at the sunlight flooding through the open door. My head feels like it’s been moonlighting as an anvil.

“Wow, you are in a mood,” Rowan says as he pulls back the door flap to let as much light in as possible.

I reach down for my boots and find a wine bottle in a sticky puddle on the wooden floor planks of the tent. Something sour rises in the back of my throat; I try to swallow it before Rowan can notice. Not that he’s going to care about the mess. How many times have I had to clean up after him?

Pain spikes through my temples when I stand back up. I shut my eyes, sink back on the bed, and breathe. Voids, I don’t even like drinking. What in the nine hells was I thinking when I opened that third bottle last night? I exhale, open my eyes, and repeat the line I’ve been telling myself ever since we hiked down the mountainside and moved into the abandoned army encampment at the base of the cliffs leading to the Tarn of the Maiden.This will all feel better once I’m home.

“Phae?” Rowan says.

I turn to see him standing in the doorway of the tent we’re sharing with an empty wine bottle in his hand. Despite the white cloth wrapped around his head to cover his missing eye, he looks almost dignified. And almost worried. It’s the kind of look I should be giving him, damn it. He’s the one who lost an eye and had to rip a mountain apart to swallow an army.

And he’s the one who’s about to do it all again.

“You ready for this?” he asks.

---