“No. There’s at least a hundred on the run,” said another. “They’re onto the next fucking destination. Godsdamnit.” Rhyan paled.
Their accents. They weren’t from Korteria. Each soturion spoke with the Northern lilt of Glemaria.
And the last man who’d spoken, I knew his voice at once.
So did Rhyan.
A set of forest green eyes were now staring at him, and Rhyan was staring back.
“Excuse me,” Sean said. “I’ll be just a moment.” He stood up and rushed to our table, his chest heaving as he approached Rhyan. His eyes narrowed in scrutiny, and then turned to me, his brows furrowing at my hair color, before they lifted in recognition as they swept over my face.
“Lyriana,” Sean hissed. “Is that you?”
I nodded carefully, more than aware that Korterians were dining at the pub, and sitting not far from us.
“Thank the Gods.” Sean wrapped his arms around me, kissing me on the cheek.
Then he turned to Rhyan. “Auriel?” he asked.
Rhyan blinked. “No. Sean, it’s me.”
“What?” Sean said, his voice too loud.
Rhyan reached out a hand to his uncle, squeezing it, and said quietly. “Sean, it’s me. It’s Rhyan.”
Sean shook his head. “But you were—you were—” His chest heaved, and he looked back and forth between us, seeing me nod, my eyes watering, before he drank in Rhyan’s face again. “Fuck. You were—you were a?—”
“I know,” Rhyan said again. “I was. But Lyr—” His throat bobbed. “She saved me.”
“Branwyn gave me your message, but I didn’t believe I … It really is you. It is,” he said, his eyes welling with tears. “How? There’s no … there’s never been …” He wavered on his feet for a moment.
“It’s a long story,” I said and jumped up.
I stole a chair from a nearby table and placed it behind Sean before he fainted. But he only reached for Rhyan, pulling him into a hug, his hand clapping around the nape of his neck.
“By the Gods. I can hear it. Hear your accent, your voice.” He pulled back, looking into Rhyan’s eyes. “Your scar. Truly, it’s you? My nephew.”
“Just with a little glamour in my hair.” Rhyan laughed, self-consciously touching his pale blond curls. “It’s me, Sean. I swear.Me sha, me ka,”Rhyan said. “I’m back.” And then Sean burst into tears.
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
RHYAN
“Rhyan, Rhyan!” Sean was crying, murmuring my name again and again.
“Sean!” I gasped. “I’m so glad to see you!”
He was rocking me side to side, hugging me so tight I could barely breathe, until Lyr coughed and placed her arms around us. Her hand pressed firmly into my back.
“I don’t want to interrupt,” she hissed. “But we’re starting to draw attention.”
I looked up, and sure enough, the bartender, black-eyed like the Bastardmaker, with thin blond hair, was eyeing us suspiciously. And another table had stopped eating, looking over.
Sean stiffened. “We need to get out of here and talk in private. Now,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He glanced at the table, at the stacks of emptied plates. “Are you done eating? Still hungry?” His eyes searched mine, clearly torn between getting us out of there, and making sure I had enough to eat. “I can get more for you if you need it.’
I shook my head, remembering how Sean had done something just like this when he found me in exile. When I wasliving in the caves, forsworn and depressed. He’d taken me to Auriel’s Flame and had Cal and Marisol make everything they’d ever served. It was my first real meal in months. It had been so fucking good. Lyr must have known. Because she’d done the same thing. Gods, I loved her. It made my chest ache all over again, being here with him and with Lyr. Two of the people I loved most in this world.
