“Until when? Until you grab me from my bed and mutilate me for some unknown period of time? When is that going to be? Gods damn it. Don't take these early moments away from us. We'll never have another chance.”
“I will not tell you when. It will be easier for you if you don't know. The final step will not take long. I believe you will be able to have Maritan with you for it.”
“I don't want him to watch you torture me.” Shan slipped under a vine to exit the solarium first. “Damn it, Nylian. You left this door open, too. What if Rayna's inside? What if she hides somewhere and attacks the baby?”
Nylian remained silent, but continued to follow closely.
Jei looked up as Shan approached. Confusion tensed her face as her eyes traveled between Shan and Nylian.
“Is he finished yet?” Shan whispered.
Jei nodded. “He fell asleep. Shannon, don't panic. Something is on him.”
“What?” Shan skirted the edge of the settee to see. Rayna sat upon Maritan's side. With groggy eyes, she looked up at Shan and yawned. “Um. Nylian?”
“She will never attack him,” Nylian whispered, his hand brushing against Shan's elbow. “She is calm now. I had a suspicion that was just proven correct. When Rayna bound to Marita, she also bound to Maritan.”
“I didn't think that was possible.”
“It has happened before. My mother bound to a dragon while she was carrying my younger brother, Nyshan. When she died, the dragon's latent bind activated and he went to Nyshan. He did not remain feral. The same has happened with Rayna.”
“You and your sarding dragons,” Shan growled, but something lightened within his heart. Rayna was another piece of Marita that Maritan would carry with him. “My newborn is dragonbound? You forced that dragon on us. Maritan isn't even two days old and you've already damaged him. If you ever touch him, I will not only break your scaly fingers, I swear to every god I don't believe in that I will find a way to kill you within these walls.”
“I would expect nothing less,” Nylian whispered. He clutched Nyssandrian's arm and led him toward the door. “Come, now. You have no need to further intrude up on his grief. Lyndarian, renew his spell and come find me in the enchanting room. We have some preparations to make for the event of which I spoke to you earlier.”
The suite door closed behind them.
“Asshole!” Shan picked up an empty wooden cup from a side table and threw it. It hit an upper panel of the door, split in half, and fell to the floor. Realizing he'd been too loud, he covered his mouth and spun toward Jei. “Oh no. I didn't wake–”
“He's fine,” she whispered. “Come take him. We're going to settle in the room at the end of the hall if that's all right with you?”
“Yes, fine. Please, make yourself comfortable, and don't mind me. I was a mess before and I'm obliterated now.” Shan rubbed his temples, but the motion only amplified his rising pain. He leaned close to Jei and carefully slipped the baby and dragon from her arms to his. Maritan stirred and smacked his lips, but didn't wake. “I'm sorry if I'm short with you. I'm just so–”
“No need to apologize.” Jei stood, then stretched her arms to the sides. She was easily a hand-and-a-half taller than Shan and she wore the spellwork on her bare arms with pride. “I would never demand politeness from one who is grieving. I'm relieved that you're allowing me to help you in such a meaningful way. Our sons are now milk brothers, and that fostered kinship is sacred to frost elves. We protect who we nourish and who was nourished with us.”
“You're not a frost elf, Spellkeeper Snowberry,” Lyndarian muttered.
Jei looked down at him and smiled. “My family is a matriarchal one, Prince Lyndarian. I am a frost elf because my mother was a frost elf. My father's race has no bearing on the traditions in which I was raised.”
Shan's eyes traced the points of Maritan's ears and the pouting bow of his lips. He didn't care what qualms Lyndarian had about Jei's chosen identity. “Thank you, Jei. I will excuse us now. I'm going to try to put him in his bassinet so I can lie next to him and maybe get a few minutes of sleep. Lyn, follow me. If you don't put that spell back on me I'm going to wake up screaming.”
Shan thought he heard Lyndarian whisper, “You don't deserve this pain,” as he laid Maritan in the bassinet. Rayna curled up next to the baby's legs and tucked her head beneath her tail. Shan stood over Maritan for a minute to make sure he stayed asleep before climbing onto Marita's side of the bed.
Honeysuckle. The pillow smelled of her, and so did the sheets. Her presence still lingered in their bedroom, and that was a comfort beyond any he'd expected. She was with them. He knew he'd always find little things to remind himself that she was still with them.
He curled on his side and let his hand settle against Maritan's arm. Maybe when he was a little bigger, Shan could bring him into the bed to sleep, but for now he was too tiny and vulnerable. This arrangement worked, with the bassinet tucked up right against the bed. This kept him close enough to touch, but safe.
The bed shifted as Lyndarian knelt on the mattress behind Shan. “Sorry. I couldn't reach you from anywhere else.”
“The only reason I don't mind that you're on my bed is because you're here to drive the physical pain away,” Shan whispered, his eyes half-closed. He lightly stroked Maritan's arm and hoped Jei's milk was rich enough to lull the little boy into a nap longer than an hour.
Lyndarian's hand rested on Shan's collarbone and a prickling green warmth spread through his chest as the pain he'd been ignoring slowly lifted. “I'm very sorry, Shannon. Some people in my family might say they understand your loss, but they don't, not really. They've all lost someone—a parent, a sibling, a dragon, maybe a child—but losing a spouse is different. That's losing the person your heart chose to bind itself to, and it's hard to breathe, or even sleep when waking up alone leaves you with such a profound loneliness that you have no idea how to relieve it.”
“What do you know about it?”
“The same thing you now do, and I wish the gods could have spared you the same pain I knew.” Lyndarian sniffed and the warmth beneath his hand intensified. “My parents thought I was too young to marry, but Faraine and I had loved each other since childhood. We were both nineteen, and I'd already gotten her pregnant, so my parents conceded. She died in childbirth, bled out as our daughter took her first breaths. My daughter—also Faraine, of course—will be eighteen soon, and her birthday is always a bittersweet day for me. Every year, I celebrate my daughter and grieve her mother. I remarried eight years after Fariane died, but that was arranged. I did grow to love Imrylla, but I know she's not as fond of me as I am of her. We all know I have a reputation for being an asshole, and it's rightfully earned. I lost my wife, then my first child with Imrylla died shortly after birth, and I think it kind of hardened me even before my twin died and took most of my soul with her. You're not me, and you won't react the same way I did, but still . . . I understand enough to wish with all of my cold and prickly heart that you weren't going through this. I didn't handle my own loss well, so the only advice I can give you is focus on your son. He'll help you relearn how to breathe.”
“Gods damn you, Lyn,” Shan mumbled. “I really hate that I'm starting to like you.”
An abrupt laugh escaped Lyndarian's lips. “I don't think I deserve that misfortune. Take care of yourself, Shannon. Eat, drink water, sleep when he lets you. You'll never regret fighting your way through the darkness to remain his constant. Trust me on that, okay?”
Shan inhaled the honeysuckle scent and stopped fighting the onset of sleep. “Call me Shan, will you?”
“Go to sleep, Shan. I'll be back in two days to renew the spell, but if you want to talk to me again sooner, just send for me and I'll come.”
30
Hael
“There is so much to this world. Sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming, but how could I have dreamed this? I had no words for any of this before I was freed because nothing underground looks like anything here. I had
to decide that what's before me is real because otherwise it doesn't make sense.” Juna plucked a spiky purple flower from the swaying grasses and handed it to Hael. “This. There is nothing like it underground. I don't know what it is.”
Hael held the flower beneath her nose and inhaled. The scent was herbal, but she didn't know how to describe it further. “I don't know. Is it safe?”
“Bee balm,” Ragan said. He plucked a leaf from the plant it came from and crushed it between his fingers, releasing a stronger aroma. “Smells like mint and oregano mixed with thyme. It's edible, so yeah, it's safe. It's got quite a few medicinal uses. Good plant.” He looked out over the rolling green hills and smiled. “I assure you this is all real. Walking into a world where you don't even have the words to describe what you see . . . I can't really imagine that. Makes me see everything a little different, though. I try to think about what this journey looks like through your eyes and it all becomes surreal.”
Hael shrugged off a shiver as she looked over the campsite. It was dusk, and the others were just beginning to wake. “We fall asleep in the wagons at daylight and wake at nightfall somewhere new. We wake and the horses rest. The horses wake and we climb back inside the wagons and sleep. The daylight isn't so bright now for some, so they help the orcs and you and the Goldtrees drive. But the light still hurts my eyes, so I always wake in the new. I like the place this night. This green, these hills. And I wonder what it will look like where we stop, what new words I'll need to learn to identify what I see, what new smells and tastes I'll find. As long as I keep my focus narrow and don't try to see everything at once, I like experiencing the new. So do most of my people. Some are scared, some are hesitant, but even they know this is now our world and we need to learn to live in it. And we're free, so we can let ourselves enjoy it.”
Juna plucked a bee balm leaf and set it against his tongue after watching Ragan do the same. “There are a lot of ugly things on the surface. I've seen more of that than you have, Hael. I fell into a war once, and that is still the ugliest I've seen. There are predators, both animal and person, and there are things I don't think I will ever be able to understand. Like why people kill each other over space when most of what I've seen since beginning to travel is empty space no one has bothered to claim. Still, there is so much beauty here, and so many places to explore. The air is light and the nights are full of stars.”
“I don't understand this world, but I love it,” Hael said. She watched as Adina set up a cooking cauldron and filled it with ingredients. The elf was far better at cooking than anyone else in the caravan, and Hael always made certain to be at her station when it was time to eat. “It feels like my life before coming to The Above was the dream, and this is what's real. I'm a baby, learning how to walk and speak, but that's a good thing.”
“Ragan.” Rin's voice rose behind Hael, hoarse and weary. “I need to show you something.”
Hael twisted and looked up at her. The human woman had a baby in one arm and a book in the other. Dark circles and redness ringed her blue eyes and Hael wondered if she'd been crying.
Ragan nodded toward the book. “Is this about Shan?”
“Yes,” Rin replied. She sat next to him in the grass and sniffled. “And Marita.”
“Oh, hell. Let me see.”
Rin opened the book and set it on his lap. As he gasped and held his hand to his mouth, she said, “I'm sorry. I thought you should read his words instead of hearing it from me.”
Juna stood, then reached for Hael's hand. “Come on. Let's see if Adina needs any help.”
“I brought a pen if you want to write something to him,” Rin murmured.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Yeah. I do. I need to. Damn it. I'd go up there myself if the elves weren't so keen on killing me on sight.” Tears in his eyes, Ragan looked up at Hael and nodded. “Go on, Hael. Help Adina. This isn't anything you need to concern yourself with.”
The warm breeze whipped Hael's loose hair into her eyes as she led Juna to the cooking station, which Adina had set up between two cargo wagons. One of the orcs sat against a wagon wheel, snoring beneath the wide-brimmed hat he'd used to cover his face.
“I'm going to see if Tam is awake,” Juna whispered, then headed toward the sleeping wagons in search of his mate.
“Would you like any help?” Hael asked as she approached the campfire.
Adina dropped a handful of green into the cauldron, then smiled at Hael. “No, thank you, but I always appreciate your company, so stay. Rin chopped a barrel full of vegetables for me earlier. Something seemed to be bothering her and she wanted to take her mind off whatever it is.”
“Shan is her eldest child, right? She said something to Ragan about him, then gave him a book.” Hael sat on the ground and watched Adina stir the pot.
“Mmm-hmm. Shan is Rin and Daelis's eldest son. My father has him in Anthora.” Adina paused her stirring and raised an eyebrow. “What book?”
“Hael.” Min's voice and hands settled on Hael's shoulders. “Daru and Tela are fighting again.”
“Why this time?” Hael asked.
“They both want to be in my sleeping wagon but they hate each other so they're fighting in the hope the other one will go find someone else to bother.”
“Why don't they both go to different wagons?”
“Because they're both hoping I'll pick them to be my mate.”
“Then either pick one and tell the other to ride somewhere else, or tell them both no so they'll leave you alone, or pick someone else and make it known you don't want either of them.” Hael sighed and picked at the grass. Settling spats had become a nightly occurrence for her, and she guessed the increase in fighting was due to traveling in such small spaces. “Tell them their fighting doesn't make you want either of them more.”
“I'm mated to Yali,” Min whispered.
“From Juna's Uldru? The older one with the silver in his hair and the scar across his nose?”
“Yes. We started trying to make a baby before we left Sungate. I think it worked. He sleeps next to me, but Daru and Tela seem to think he's my friend and not my mate.”
“Then tell Daru and Tela the truth. And then tell them to travel in other wagons during the day. There is space in mine and Elan's for another, and I think Juna has room in his. Tell them if they still make trouble they can sleep in the cargo wagons alone.”
Min sighed and lifted her hand from Hael's shoulder. “Maybe we should have been assigned mates like we were by the Varaku. Then there isn't anything to fight about.”
“That's not freedom and people will always find things to fight about,” Hael said. She turned her head and smiled up at Min. “Why didn't you tell me you chose Yali?”
“I wanted to wait until we arrived.” Uncertainty fogged Min's eyes as she watched Adina drop a handful of fragrant plants into the pot. “How many more nights do we have?”
Adina pointed her spoon toward the dark horizon. “I know you can't see it because it's dark and far away, but there are mountains over there. The place we're going to is on the other side of those mountains. I think it's only a week . . . seven nights. Maybe six or eight, but we're close.”
Min smiled and glanced toward the Uldru gathering near the sleeping wagons. “Good. Hael, I'll go tell them about Yali now. Thank you.”
Hael waited until Min was out of sight before shaking her head. “They can't figure it out on their own. All of them come to me with questions about taking mates. I guess there is sense to that. They've never been able to choose before. Varaku could mate with whomever they wanted within their caste constraints, but we were told.”
“Have you chosen someone?” Adina asked.
“No, and I won't. We need children and I can't make them, so a potential mate shouldn't be wasted on me. There aren't enough of us yet for that.” Hael held out her hands and felt the warmth of the fire against her palms. “Maybe if I find another etten and love her. There is one other, from the Jadeshire group. Lis. She is nice, but we aren't draw
n to each other. That's important now. We'll have longer lives so we should choose mates we love, not mate and then hope to fall in love before someone dies.”
“It's hard figuring out what to do with choices we were never allowed before.” Adina put a cover on the cauldron, then joined Hael on the ground. “It can be especially difficult when we fall in love with someone who doesn't love us the same way. I . . . I don't have much experience with that yet. Just once, but I won't get into that. My mother always assumed that the only reason I wanted to be a girl was so I could be with boys without causing so much of a fuss among the highborn, who claim to accept same-sex relationships but still feel the need to ridicule them. I'm not attracted to men though, only to women. It's a complicated thing for me because if my anatomy was as it should be, I'd be eager to carry and birth children. But I wouldn't want to marry someone who could give that to me. So now I just hope someday I'll find a woman who loves me like this, and maybe she'll be willing to have babies with me before I can't handle my body being this way anymore and find someone to change it into something I can live with.”
“This world is infinitely large and full of people. You'll find your mate and you'll be a good mother even though you can't have the babies yourself. They'll still be of your blood.” Hael reached across the grass to touch Adina's hand. “You've always been sad since I've known you. I want you to be happy.”
Adina squeezed her hand. “I'm happier now than I've ever been, but it's bittersweet. I'm not sure if you know what that means yet. I'm happy that I can be myself, but I had to lose everything to find that.”
“You didn't lose everything, only what you didn't need. Now you have some of what you need. And you have me.”
Adina smiled as she stared into the crackling flames beneath the cauldron. “I do, don't I? I know I'm not–”
Ara landed before them with a thump and a shake of wings. Adina drew a sharp breath, then let go of Hael's hand and stood to face the silver dragon.
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