The woman who left Edgewood, bound for the Deadlands atop a darkwalker’s back, is not the same woman who departs now, standing as the North Wind’s equal. With a final look at my sister, I turn, making my way down the stairs. Boreas wraps an arm around my shoulders, tucking me against his side as we stride through the deserted square.
“I’m proud of you,” he murmurs, mouth dipping near my ear.
For a moment, I allow myself to lean against him. A few tears trickle down my cheeks, hot against my frozen skin. “I’m just happy I didn’t vomit.”
A chuckle rasps out of him. Despite the tearing sensation in my chest, I manage to laugh as well.
“How do you feel?”
Our boots click against the moon-brightened cobblestones. Phaethon and Iliana huddle in the trees, and I look forward to returning to my rooms, where I imagine a hot bath awaits me. “Sad, but I’ll be all right.”
The choice is hers. If Elora desires to repair our relationship, she will bridge the distance, not I. It’s time she carried her own weight. And while she may not have supported me in this, someone else certainly did.
Taking a shaky breath, I say, “Thank you for tonight. I’m not sure I would have had the courage to face Elora without you.”
Again, Boreas squeezes me around the shoulders. “You would have.” His confidence is unwavering. “Let’s go home.”
I glance at him, startled, but he only smiles down at me. “Home,” I agree, and take his hand in mine.
You’ve changed, Elora claimed, and she was right. Months ago, I chose my sister.
This time, I chose myself.
37
THENORTHWIND PACES LIKEa chained dog. His gaze narrows at every passing server, every child rushing underfoot, every circling couple, every clinking glass. His eye twitches from the wild, drunken laughter, the bubbling, effervescent happiness of a party underway. His upper lip curls whenever someone dares approach him.
He is, quite simply, a terror.
Loitering by his side near one of the wide, arched windows, I sigh. “You’re scowling again.”
His scowl deepens. Petulance makes fists of his hands, which he’s shoved into the pockets of his black overcoat, the high collar adding to his reserved appearance. In the glow of soft lamplight overhead, his cheeks cut like knives.
The ballroom has been transformed for the event. Swaths of white and blue fabric drape the walls, the windows, their folds like ripples in a clear mountain stream. The center of the room has been cleared for dancing, and there is plenty of it thanks to the small chamber ensemble—courtesy of volunteer musicians from Neumovos. A trilling melody skips over the deep basso continuo, and every so often, the harp’s resonance twines with that of a flute.
I happily sip from my cup of fruit juice, despite the amount of wine being served. Just because I must avoid alcohol, doesn’t mean the townsfolk can’t enjoy themselves, though I thought long and hard about the decision before asking that wine be stocked.
“You’re sure?” Boreas had asked me only hours ago.
“I’m sure.”
He accepted that without argument, and behold, the wine flowed.
I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He’s removed his hands from his pockets and idly taps a finger against his thigh. “Clench your jaw any harder,” I remark, “and you’ll crack a tooth.”
“It’ll heal.” The tapping quickens until I capture his fingers. His face jerks toward me in surprise.
“Relax,” I soothe. “There is much to be grateful for.” The specters are dressed in whatever they managed to carry after fleeing Neumovos. Most wear trousers and tunics, but a few women have donned their finest gowns. Despite their haphazard manner of dress, they didn’t hesitate in jumping feet-first into the festivities.
I crane my head, searching for someone in particular. “Any sign of her?” Boreas asks.
A shallow twinge near my heart. I ignore it. “No.”
Elora is not among the crowd. It was to be expected. I’m disappointed, but more than that, I’m tired. Tired of fighting for someone who refuses to fight for me.
“My lady?” A servant appears, holding a tray of bite-sized fruit pastries. Dollops of sweet cream garnish the miniature desserts.
I snatch two. “Thank you.”
