“There is much that troubles me, but the remedy is less more elusive than its causes.”
“You worry it will not work?”
So Galfrid had told him about the Gate. With still no sign of Balthor’s men, we had agreed yesterday to attempt its opening the moment Nerys and Rowan arrived, which could be as soon as this day. He’d kept his circle tight but planned to loosen it with the Gate’s imminent opening.
“Aye,” I admitted. “And of Balthor’s response.”
“It would not be the first battle we’ve fought with him. Aetheria is well prepared.”
He waited, but what else could I say? The fate of Elydor rested in the events of these next few days, but the reason I came to him—the true reason—was not because of the Gate. Or an impending battle.
“It is not the Gate, or the battle, that keeps you up at night?”
I wasn’t surprised he guessed, but neither would I admit it. Either of those should be cause for concern… but both? Aetheria faced an imminent inflection point, and I wrestled with the affairs of my heart.
I should not have come.
Before I could respond, Galindre turned back to his table, bringing together three herbs and a liquid I didn’t recognize.
“Here,” he said, handing the concoction to me. “It will quiet the storm, for a time. But storms return, unless you face them.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the vial from him. “What do you believe will happen?” I asked, curious. Galindre was vaelith,even older than the king. He’d seen all there was to see of Elydor and offered wise counsel, always.
The smile he offered reflected his knowledge, a wisdom that could only come from the varied experiences the high steward had lived through.
“Power alone never opens what is sealed. Balance does. Remember this, Lady Lyra.”
Unfortunately, he was as Aetherian as they came. I imagined Terran standing beside me. His response to Galindre would be blunt, and perhaps even rude. The thought made me smile in return, until I remembered Terran was angry with me.
Perhaps I should have told him earlier what he’d currently guessed. But my loyalty was to Aetheria, the Gate’s opening for its inner council alone to ponder. I could never have returned to King Galfrid, to Kael and Mev, if I’d shared too much, costing them the possibility of seeing the Gate reopened.
“I will do so,” I promised. “Thank you, Master Galindre.”
“The thanks are mine. You’ve been resourceful and brave, Lyra. And have done your fellow Shadow Diplomats proud.”
My eyes widened. “You…?”
“Nay. Though I was there when they were first formed. Even trained a few in my day, many, many centuries ago.”
Riddles and secrets, Terran would say. And he would be right, the accusation accurate.
“You will never cease to amaze me,” I said, before turning to leave.
“When the four winds meet, what is sealed shall stir. Until then, even kings grasp at shadows.”
I’d have asked Galindre what he meant by that but a familiar voice stopped me.
“There you are,” Terran said, standing in the doorway, my body’s reaction to his appearance telling me all I needed to know about how deeply I’d fallen.
But he was not alone. Both Kael and Mev stood at his side.
Which could only mean one thing.
“They’re here,” Mev said. “It’s time.”
30
TERRAN
