Jameson imagined it was hard for Alix here, where most people instinctively hated him. He took a seat across from him, wishing for a good cup of coffee. There were still things about lander civilization he missed desperately—when this was all over, he’d suggest a few improvements in Errian.
He picked up the hunk of cheese and peeled off some purple mold. They’d promised him it was perfectly edible. Still, he sniffed at it distrustfully.
“Not exactly up to lander standards, is it?”
Jameson snorted. “Not really. Hey, how did you know?”
“I asked around. You’re skythane, but you grew up offworld. Plus you talk like an offworlder. Traxon?”
“Beta Tau.”
Alix nodded. “Religious, then.”
“Lapsed.” The bread wasn’t much better, but it was food. They had an army to feed, after all.
“Ah.”
Jameson worked up his courage, chewing on a bite of the hard bread. “Thank you for what you did last night.”
“It was nothing.” Alix leaned against the wall, staring at him over the table.
“Could you… would you teach me more?” The memories were behaving for the moment. They seemed worse when he was tired, broken down, when he didn’t have the resources to deal with them.
Alix considered him. “We’re not friends,” he said at last. “You get that, right?”
Jameson nodded. “I’m sorry.” He should have known better than to ask something of him, Xander’s ex. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.” He picked up what was left of his cheese and his mug and started to leave.
“Wait.” Alix grasped his hand. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I just mean that things are bound to be a bit weird between us, considering.”
“Xander.”
Alix nodded. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help. You’re important to Xander, and he’s important to me.”
He seemed to be telling the truth. “All right. I guess I can live with that.” He finished the cheese, which had a decidedly fishy taste, and washed it down with keff, enjoying the flavor, sort of a coconut-herbal tea thing. He missed his morning coffee. “So what do I do when I feel a storm coming on?”
Alix leaned forward and took Jameson’s hands. His hands were callused and warm. “There are two ways to go about it. The first is distraction. When you feel a panic attack—”
“A memory storm.”
“Whatever. When you feel it coming on, focus on something outside yourself.” He looked around the room. “This can be any number of things. Pick out something like that chandelier to look at, and count the candles. Some folks recite numbers out of order. Sometimes repetitive eye movements or gestures help. Some focus on measured breathing. That’s what we did last night.”
Jameson nodded. “It helped bring me back.”
“It’s a good exercise, but you’re not always going to have someone there to help you breathe.” He let go of Jameson’s hands, but Jameson could still feel the tingle from where they had touched. “One of my friends visualizes a white light passing through his body, taking the panic—”
“Memory storm.” Jameson was starting to get annoyed with Alix’s insistence that he wasn’t experiencing real memories.
“—away. But you’re right, it’s not quite the same, is it?”
Jameson shook his head. “I worked with patients with PTSD before. This is… different. It might induce a panic attack, though.”
“Are you seeing the memories right now?”
Jameson looked around. He nodded. “They’re always there, but they’ve pulled away. It’s like a flock of crows circling overhead.”
“I have an idea. Do you trust me?”
Jameson considered the question. “I guess I have to.”
“Good choice. I won’t bite.” He grinned. “Pick one of the memories and concentrate on it.”
Jameson’s heart beat faster. “What if I lose control?”
“Give me your hand.”
Jameson took Alix’s hand again.
“Trust me.”
Jameson nodded. “Okay.”
“Pick one of the memories and focus on it.”
Jameson looked up and found one of the “crows.” He stared at it, and as if beckoned, it swept down, engulfing him in its darkness.
He lay on a bed, naked, his wings spread lazily behind him, staring up at an intricately painted blue and gold ceiling.
A woman danced for him, also naked in the firelight, her sinuous curves twisting with an astonishing grace, making the room hotter than the fire could account for. The flames sparkled on gold flakes along the walls and ceiling.
He wanted her. Needed her. Was a moth drawn to her flame, her raven-black hair and eyes.
He rose from the bed and met her in three short strides, joining the dance….
“Holy fuck!” His eyes focused on the trickle of blood that dripped from his thumb. “What did you do?”
Alix wiped his knife on his trousers, cleaning off the blood. “Just a test. Pain. That’s one way out when you get locked up in a panic… memory storm.”
Jameson sucked his thumb. “Seriously? Thanks for the lesson, but I think I can figure it out myself.”
“You also might want to get clean.”
“Clean?”
“You know what I mean.” Alix winked at him and went back to his own meal.
Jameson had no idea what the man was talking about. “Um… not really?”
“Suit yourself. I’m here if you need me.”
Fucking jerk.
THE REMAINDER of the Gaelani, those who hadn’t been sent to the safety of the caves, gathered in the courtyard of the House of the Moon.
Xander surveyed them from the top of the wall, still amazed to find himself leading an army. Behind him, his companions had gathered, Jameson to his left and Alix to his right, a pointed distance maintained between the two of them.
Whatever mutual goodwill they had found the night before seemed to have evaporated.
Xander sighed. He was glad Alix was alive, he really was, but his presence there complicated things, at a time when Xander’s life had already become hellishly complex. He missed his sleepless nights alone in his flat back on Oberon City. Now he had an entire nation dependent on his decisions.
He still wondered if he’d made the right call, evacuating Gaelan.
Quince put a hand on his shoulder. “A moment?”
“Sure.” They stepped away from the balustrade, a few paces away from his… what were they? His court? His lieutenants? His advisors? “What’s up?”
“I think you’re doing the right thing.” She rested a hand on his shoulder. “Robyn and I are so proud of the men you two have become.”
“I hear a ‘but’ coming.”
She chuckled. “You know me too well. And you know I’m a rational person—”
He side-eyed her.
“Well, usually.”
Xander laughed ruefully and nodded. “Except where Morgan came into things.” The loss of the boy still stung. Xander had felt stirrings of something—maturity, fatherhood?—when he’d had the skinny kid under his wing. A sense of what could be, someday.
Quince looked at him strangely.
“What?”
“It’s just… I don’t know how else to say it. I think he’s still alive.”
“What?” It was impossible. The boy had vanished. Imploded. Something. Been there one moment and gone the next, and yet his heart hoped it was true. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been having these dreams.”
“Ah.”
Quince grimaced. “Hence the whole I’m-usually-a-rational-person thing.”
He nodded. “After the memories and visions Jameson and I have had, I’m loath to discount anything new. What did you see?”
She looked away. “I’m not sure. Something happening, up north, something he’s mixed up in. I think he needs me.”
Xander would have called bullshit on something like that just a
few weeks before. Now he wasn’t so sure.
“Could you manage without Robyn and me?”
There it was. He’d had precious little time to spend with his mother, but then again, neither had Quince. It was easy to see how the loss of Robyn’s wings had wounded her badly, beyond the purely physical.
“I…. We don’t know this world. Not like you do, memories notwithstanding. And Jameson….” He glanced back at his prince.
“I know. But this is important to more than just Morgan. I can feel it.” She looked at their friends. “Venin knows every mile of the route from here to Errian. We talked it over at breakfast.”
He trusted Quince. If she said this needed to happen, she had her reasons, even if there were things she wasn’t telling him. Again. “If you think it’s so important, I won’t stop you.”
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Xander.” She reached up to give him a hug.
He held her tightly. “You be careful,” he admonished her. “I’ve almost lost you more than once on this quest.”
“I will. That goes for you and Jameson too.” She looked at Alix. “He still loves you, you know.”
“I know. We’ll have to figure that out when there’s more time and less rush.”
“So, in a hundred years?”
He laughed. “Sounds about right.”
She kissed his cheek and went to talk with Robyn.
He followed her. “Quince tells me you two are heading up north.”
Robyn touched his cheek. “It’s bad timing. I’d hoped to spend a little time with you. We hardly know each other.”
“I know.” He nodded. “I have this memory. On a balcony right down there.” He walked over to the edge of the wall to look down, and she followed. “I tried to climb the rail, and you pulled me back and told me to be careful, because I didn’t have my wings yet. You said ‘You’ll fly with them soon enough.’”
She smiled wistfully. “You remember that?”
“I do.” He hugged her tight. “You be careful out there. I don’t want to lose you again.”
She hugged him and reached up to kiss him. “You boys be careful too.” She squeezed him tight and then let go and went back to Quince.
Xander stared after her for a moment and then went to look down into the courtyard. The Gaelani there were milling about, some lacing on their flying leathers, others deep in conversation with one another. It was a motley crew.
He wished he had the big bell from Founder’s Hill to command their attention. Instead, he bellowed, “Skythane, hear me!”
The crowd silenced, and one by one they looked up at him.
“These are difficult times for all of us.” Many below had lost someone, in the fight to retake Gaelan or in the flooding after the shift. “You’ve opened your arms to me, and now I ask you to follow me again.” Alia and Venin had helped Mylin spread the news of his plan the day before, but he felt it was best to speak to all of them, directly, as their king. “The Gaelan we knew is gone, destroyed by the flood. We will come back here to build it anew. But first we must face another threat.” He paused to let that sink in. There were mutters and nods in the throng below. “Before long, OberCorp will send their forces against us, and after the shift, they are no longer limited in their access to Titania. We must fly to the aid of our brothers and sisters in Errian.” He pulled a surprised Jameson to his side and held up his hand for the crowd. “Errian’s prince stood with us. Now we must stand with him.”
The crowd cheered.
“When this fight is over, we will return here to put up the towers of Gaelan once more. And Errian will help us.”
There was more muttering at that.
“Listen! No more will we allow ourselves to be divided. Our two peoples, Gaelani and Erriani, have been manipulated by outsiders for long enough. Now we will stand strong together.”
There was the sound of agreement below. He had them. “Are you with me?”
This time the cheer was twice as loud as before.
Jameson squeezed his hand. “Well done,” he whispered, and kissed Xander’s cheek.
Xander smiled. “Each of you has been assigned to a wing leader. Follow him or her, and we will reach Errian within the week.” Maybe sooner, if Jameson was right about the key. “To the skies!”
The skythane host began to climb the ladders up to the castle wall, and flight by flight, they leapt into the air, leaving Gaelan on the way to Errian, on the shores of the Argent Sea to the east.
Xander and Jameson led the throng with their companions.
Chapter Nine: Poison
QUINCE AND Robyn watched the rest of Gaelan’s skythane take to the skies, emptying out the House of the Moon one flight at a time. When they were all aloft, the host slipped off to the east like a great flock of birds, slowly disappearing into the distance.
Quince turned away at last, pulling on her own carry sack and tying the straps. It was full of supplies for their trip north, including cold weather gear and a zero-C sleep sack she’d raided from the OberCorp supplies. Robyn had one too.
“Are you ready?”
Robyn nodded. She shouldered her bi-wings and gave one last sad look to the ruined city below. “It’s my fault. Everything that happened here.”
“You have to stop thinking that. All of us have been swept up in events beyond our control.”
“Maybe so.” She looked angry now.
Quince took that as an improvement over the deep sadness that had filled her the night before.
“Do you think it’s my fault because I helped the boys complete the shift?” She put a hand on Robyn’s cheek, turning it gently toward her. “By that logic, the flood was more my fault than yours.”
“That’s absurd.” Her eyes flashed with anger, and Quince was heartened to see Robyn’s old spirit return. “You don’t control the weather.”
“Exactly. And you don’t control the landers, or the nimfeach, or the world at large.”
Robyn held her gaze for a long moment. “You’re probably right,” she conceded at last. “But I can’t help feeling guilty. It happened on my watch.”
“And I love that you feel that way. But you have to promise me you won’t try to… to end it. It would kill me too if I lost you again.”
“I can’t promise that.” The pain in her voice tore at Quince’s heart.
“At least promise me you’ll talk to me first.”
Robyn thought about it and nodded. “I can do that.”
“Shall we fly?”
“I’m ready to be done with this place. Check my wings?”
Quince checked the straps. “They look good.” She took Robyn’s face in her hands and gave her a gentle kiss.
“What was that for?” Robyn asked when they separated.
“For being you. For being here with me when I thought I’d be all alone.” She climbed into the embrasure and spread her wings. “Here we go.” She leapt from the House of the Moon, leaving the castle behind her. Robyn soon followed, and they soared over the ruined city.
Only the Founder’s Tower still stood in the valley below the castle. It was high upon a hill above the mud and muck and wreck of the aeries.
“That’s something.” Robyn pulled even with her, staring down at the tower.
“It was here first, and it still stands. Gaelan will be beautiful again, once all this is over.”
They flew past the city walls and out over the purple canopy of the Riamhwood, turning north to skirt the edge of the Sléibhte Mora. The peaks were dusted with new snow from the great storm that had passed over them days before. Every valley was filled with fallen trees and mud, new wounds torn into the foundation of the world.
“What awaits us up north, Quince?” Robyn asked as they flew. Her color had returned. Maybe it was the flush of exercise, maybe the distance from Gaelan. Whatever the reason, she seemed more herself than she had in days.
Quince shook her head. “I don’t know. Morgan needs me. That’s all I’m sure of.”
&
nbsp; “Who is this Morgan, really?” They’d had precious little time to talk before.
“I don’t know that, either.” She gave a rueful laugh. “Xander found him… or maybe he found Xander, while we were separated on Oberon. He saved us, on more than one occasion. I’m certain he’s not a little boy. Or… not only a human child. Beyond that….” The vastness of the Riamhwood threatened to overwhelm her. It stretched from the foothills all the way down to the sea, too far to see from their location. Down there, somewhere to her right, Xander, Jameson, and half of Gaelan were winging their way toward Errian on the shores of the Argent Sea. “I think he might be connected to the nimfeach.”
“Can you trust him?” Robyn’s eyes were narrowed.
Quince shrugged. “Without him we’d all be dead.”
Robyn looked away. “There are worse things.”
Quince didn’t contest that.
They flew on for the rest of the morning. The air was fresh and crisp, washed clean by the storm.
Around midday, they found a spot on the slopes of one of the mountains that looked out over the woods below. Whirills sang in the branches of the trees below them, and the sun through the leaves warmed Quince’s shoulders.
Quince brought out her canteen and some of the hard tack. She handed it with a few dried berries to Robyn, who took them with a half smile.
“I remember when we used to steal away,” she whispered, her gaze lingering on Quince’s face as she nibbled on their lunch.
“That was a long time ago.” Quince tried to remember how she had felt, with the attention of a queen on her. She’d been so young. It had been flattering to be singled out, by fate and by the queen, for such special attention.
“Do you ever regret it?”
“What?”
“The choices we made.”
“Ah.” Her flight from Titania with Jameson and Xander…. Lyrin and Davyn. “Sometimes. I wish there’d been another way. We’ve all suffered for it.”
Robyn nodded. “I wish I’d never been born to royalty. That I’d been born in a little village to a blacksmith and a seamstress.”
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