I could shake her. “OfcourseI was fucking scared!”
She swallows. “I thought you didn’t trust me.”
“Believe me when I say that this was not the way to prove that.” I let her go and run my hand over my face.
But she follows. Lyra steps into me, nudging my hands away and placing her palms against my cheek. “Nobody ever cared if I came back before.”
My breath rushes out, my brows lowering. “Look—”
“My father gave me the iskra leaves,” she says quietly. “He didn’t want me to come back, Eres. He didn’t care. Nobody ever cared, as long as I did what I was supposed to do.”
To kill Kaelen. “Well, I care.”
She breathes in, eyes tracing the lines on my face. “I won’t leave like that again. Without… saying anything. Talking about it.”
My hands slip over hers. “Good.”
I doubt that it matters much now. Not when the days are dwindling away. But her word matters tome.“My father was a healer, you know.”
When she nudges herself closer to me, hesitant, I pull her in and wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on her head. “I didn’t know that.”
“My mother was a soldier.” I run my hands over her hair. “I’d watch her every time she rode out, and so would he. The last time… she was part of a group sent to rescue a pinned-down patrol in the Veilspire, and he didn’t want her to go.”
She stills. “She didn’t listen.”
“No. She volunteered, because they needed help.” I swallow, remembering. “And when she didn’t come back, he wanted to ride out, but Kaelen’s father forbade it. He was the only healer we had left.”
“How old were you?”
“Fifteen.” I blow out a breath. “I was still training. He waited every moment that he wasn’t working, watching the gates from the rampart. Waiting for her to come home, and she never did. We never knew what happened.”
Common enough. The Veilspire is large, and the Lightbringers don’t like to leave survivors.
“I’m sorry.” She looks up at me. “What happened to your father?”
“He did that for months.” My eyes feel wet. “I found him on the rampart. He’d been up there, and his heart had just… given out. Like he couldn’t live without her.”
Both of them had left me, and Kaelen had stepped in.
“Don’t make me wait,” I say hoarsely. “Ican’t, Lyra. Let me come with you, or go instead of you, but don’t leave me behind to wonder if you’re coming home.”
Her lips touch my chest. “All right.”
It settles something in my chest, something twisted and painful. “Thank you.”
Lyra
Iwake to the smell of herbs and iron.
For a moment I don’t know where I am. Only that the bed is too warm, too crowded, the blankets tangled around my legs, and the air tastes of ass. Idesperatelyneed to clean my teeth.
My body aches in that deep, stubborn way it always does after a gruelling training session. And my palms throb dully, scars pulling when I flex my fingers.
I don’t feel particularly well.
I blink, slowly, and the room swims into focus. Eres sits on the edge of the bed closest to me, his hair mussed and his midnight eyes sharper than they should be at this hour. There’s barely any light coming through the window.
He has a cloth draped over one shoulder and his healer’s belt spread out on a small table beside him, vials and bandage rollslaid out with quiet efficiency. His fingers press lightly to the inside of my wrist, counting my pulse.
