“Let them watch. Lyra, we?—”
“What took you so long?”
I jumped back at Kael’s voice from behind us.
Terran chuckled… actually chuckled. I stared at him, trying to imagine such a sound from him at any other time from the Terran I once knew.
“You know well,” Terran said, embracing his brother, “I could not have come any faster. They”—he waved to indicate his companions—“were little pleased with our pace.”
“They will recover,” Kael said. Taking charge, he delegated Terran’s companions and their mounts to be taken care of before leading Terran into the palace.
“Lyra can tell you what she discovered.”
“It was not me alone,” I insisted, “but Mev and I together.”
It wasn’t until we entered the Celestial Hall that Kael picked back up the conversation, not wanting the details to be overheard. Meanwhile, I said little, allowing the brothers to catch up as we made our way through the palace.
After a proper welcome which included Galfrid insisting Terran drop his title, a rare honor that marked Terran as part of the inner circle here in Aethralis, Kael asked me to tell the story. Terran sat in the only empty chair, beside his brother, so I leaned in toward the table to share what had happened.
“Mev”—I gestured to the princess who sat next to me, on Kael’s left—“and I spent days staring at scraps of parchment with all we knew of the Gate’s opening. Repeating words and phrases, under Galfrid’s oversight.”
“They were tenacious,” the king said proudly.
Our Thalassari guests, and their human companions, Rowan and Issa, remained silent. They’d heard the story the evening before.
“It was something you said that wasn’t on those parchments that became an important clue for us.”
“Me?” Terran was clearly surprised.
“My father’s hatred of the humans broke Elydor’s balance more than any blade.”
Terran glanced at Kael. “A truth I should have realized sooner.”
“Weshould have realized sooner.” Kael would not let Terran carry the burden of their father’s legacy alone, and from his expression, I could sense Terran appreciated it.
“When I put it into context with all the others, and Mev’s persistence in having us remember that relics remember wounds, it came to me.”
Heart hammering, praying the revelation was our missing piece, I continued. “Humans are the key.”
At Terran’s confused look, I added, “To opening the Gate. There were three clans the first time he”—I waved a hand toward the king—“opened the portal to the human realm. All three relics were needed as a way to signal the clan’s acceptance of such an act. But there are no longer three clans.”
“There are four,” Issa finished. “Something we’ve continued to remind even those who accept us.”
“Full acceptance,” Rowan said, “means recognizing Estmere not just as a kingdom of Elydor, but as one of its clans.”
The distinction wasn’t lost on anyone present in the chamber.
“Estmere,” Terran said. “One of Elydor’s four clans.”
I held my breath. Terran was the last to accept the humans. To let go of his hate toward them.
“We need their artifact.”
He understood. Even more, seemed to accept it. Acceptthem.
All eyes turned to Rowan.
“Of course,” I added, “this was merely speculation. Until we whispered to Queen Nerys and were able to communicate with Rowan.”
