“Just so you know,” he said as they entered the ravaged square, “I’ll be laying the blame squarely at your feet if Magnus is pissed.”
“Something tells me that’s not even a little bit true.”
“Perhaps not.” He crossed his arms, waving one hand in aget on with itmotion. “Guess you’ll find out.”
Lunara called on her dwindling power, gritting her teeth. She could do this. Her pain would be nothing compared to theirs in the end.
Not in the least.
Solyrian had begun setting,casting long shadows over the village. Images of nameless faces and faceless bodies continued to flow through Lunara’s mind in the encroaching darkness, and the number of them—the sheer weight of it—nearly broke her.
She hadn’t bothered to try moving the rock and dirt as Brand did. At the end of the day, living or not, bodies and blood were her true domain. So, she’d used her power to call every lastpiece of every last person to herself, swallowing her screams and trapping them in the vice of her already shredded throat.
In the middle of the town square, as lovingly as she was able, she’d lined them up in neat rows and commanded their flesh to sink into the earth. Somehow, all of them being there didn’t quite feel like the usual indignity it might have. Instead, it seemed fitting that they should rest together.
Then, she’d cleaned up, disappearing the gore and righting timbers. She had no wish for anyone to feel like she was erasing the travesty as if it had never been, but she’d wanted the village to be beautiful again.
For them.
Faldir had understood without being told. He’d made trip after trip while she’d worked, assigning himself the job of collecting flowers from wherever he could and laying them silently at her feet until they’d surrounded her in a mounded ring of rainbow colors.
When she’d finally noticed them there, a new ache had bloomed—one that had nothing to do with the cost of her power. Adding that tender hurt to the rest of her pain had almost been too much, but the moons were already rising. She’d be fine soon enough.
The last blossom sank its roots into the ground at Lunara’s command, and a single tear broke away. She blinked the rest back, refusing them freedom, and sucked in a deep breath. She’d held it together so far, and she couldn’t bear losing it now. Not with the wretched evidence of those who’d suffered so much worse spread out before her.
“Is it worthy of them, Faldir?” she whispered.
“It’s not exactly the way they do it, but close enough. Damn close, actually.” He crossed his arms, head tilting to the side. “Besides, what fault lies in an action taken with love in mind?This endeavor was selfless, and others have only benefitted. Anyone asking for more than that is not your friend.”
“Hmm. Rather more poetic than I would’ve expected from you.”
He looked away. “I have my moments.”
“I know very little of friendship,” she admitted. Though, how the unguarded confession had gotten free was beyond her.
“You probably know more than you think. Putting it into good practice, well… That’s another matter.”
She chose to blame the cold shiver running down her spine on the fact that they were standing over a mass grave, after a day that would probably haunt her for eternity. It had nothing to do with his words being too perceptive for comfort.
Nothing at all.
“I—”
A twig snapped, familiar power approaching in the wake of its sound, and she was glad for the interruption—even if her nerves were still trying to convince her she’d overstepped.
The others were silent for a long moment before Magnus strode forward and dropped to his knees among the wash of wildflowers.
“This is a lovely thing the two of you have done.” His voice was thick with tears, the sound trying to draw out more of her own.
“I… I wasn’t sure. If this was okay, I mean. I don’t know anything about how you?—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he rasped. “They’ve returned to the fields as they were meant to, however it happened.”
With that, the bass of Magnus’s voice rose above the din of evening in a tongue she didn’t understand, chanting a lilting lament to his fallen.
Lunara closed her eyes as the insects and owls joined his mourning with songs of their own, like they were crying out intandem. His language and theirs were lost on her, but… Stars above, she felt their meaning right down to her soul.
It might’ve been hours before she shook herself and glanced up, only to see Brand already staring back.
