Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ingrid
The rain has let up for a short while by the time we reach the construction site. As soon as we got word of the impending disaster, we left Threshward Plains at full speed, no stops for breaks or rest. I don’t know what good we’ll be able to do against the storm and the rising waters, but knowing they aren’t alone may be what these people need most.
“We’re doing what we can to shore up the banks,” an Emerald Warden explains to Xandril while I take in the scene. So many people working together toward a common purpose, so much energy poured into the effort.
Theremustbe something I can do.
“If we set charges in the mountains, we can block this,” says one of the demons wearing the colors of Iron Reach.
“Or doom us all,” the Warden snaps back. “Let’s add a rockslide to the coming flood.”
“Only reason there willbea flood is because you care more about your trees than your citizens!”
The Warden’s chest puffs up, and the Iron soldier widens his stance, both posturing for a fight.
“Enough,” Xandril growls. “We will continue as we have been. I will join where I’ll be of most use. I want to know if conditions change—we retreat when it’s time. Understood?”
Both demons nod, the tension still thick in the air as they go their separate ways.
Xandril stands staring at the work crews, the piles of rock and debris, the effort to fill bags with sand, and he’s got the same weight on his shoulders that I’ve come to recognize so well.
He doesn’t move when I slip my hand into his, doesn’t look my way, but he squeezes my hand back.
“This is my fault,” he says, his voice painfully flat. Distant.
“It’s not,” I insist.
“It is. I was warned. The archdruid told me—”
“The batty old talking hillside? What did she say that has you so rattled?”
Xandril looks down at me, warmth and resignation in his eyes. “It’s too late to change now.”
I frown, stepping around so that I’m directly in front of him, only inches away.
“We’re not giving up the fight, remember?” I say, holding his gaze with mine, refusing to let him look away or deflect. “We’re in this together. And no matter what happens here, Emerald will prevail.”
His expression is grim, but he nods. “It will.”
“Good.” I smile, and then without ever making the decision to, I stand on my tiptoes to give him a kiss. “For luck,” I say.
A low rumble vibrates through Xandril’s chest, and his arms close around me as he pulls me back into the kiss.
Mine was just a peck. A simple brush of my lips against his. Shy and still not certain how he’d react.
His is…everything. Xandril’s arms form a cage around me, his muscles supporting me as he pulls me up to him while bending to meet me. His lips are firm and warm, and leave me breathless, thoughtless, driven only by my need for more. His hand on my lower back pulls me flush against him, and as our tongues find each other, I groan, melting into his heat and strength.
“The reach has never been more lucky than it is to have you,” he says, his massive hand cupping the side of my face.
“And you,” I say, turning into his palm to press a kiss there before I take a step back. “Be careful!”
Tears well in my eyes as he jogs off toward the raging river. I don’t know how I’m going to sit idly by while he risks himself to help these people.
Luckily, there’s no shortage of tasks to busy myself with. The only thing keeping my worries and emotions in check is constant movement, so I join in with some of the villagers to organize relief. There have already been some homes flooded further upriver in the low-lying areas, and those families have gathered outside Stoneberry Rise, everyone seeking higher ground.
Efforts are jumbled and in disarray when I first join, fear and uncertainty robbing some of reason, but we slowly begin to make order from chaos. After a few hours of non-stop work, we have a handful of tents with cots set up, as well as a designated area for refugees and workers alike to warm by the fire, dry off, and have a hot meal.
