Ailan’s posture tensed, and she heaved a sigh. “I…I have some ideas for how we could work together. I know you value your kingdom. Perhaps…perhaps we can wait to seal the tear and complete the Veil until you and your husband have lived full lives. Once we defeat Darius, we’ll need only worry about healing the Blight. Fifty years in the human world is just over seven in El’Ara. We can hold off the Blight that long, and it will give us time to prepare for what happens next.”
The edges of Mareleau’s anxiety began to smooth. That didn’t sound terrible. She and Larylis could continue to rule Vera and live full lives with their son. Noah could be a prince of two worlds until then.
“If we wait to complete the Veil,” Ailan said, “that will give your people time to prepare for Lela’s return to El’Ara. They will have time to find new homes, new kingdoms—”
“Exile,” Cora said. “The future you see for my people is exile.”
Mareleau’s blood went cold at the word.
“Or citizenship of El’Ara,” Ailan rushed to say. “I know both options are unthinkable right now, but wecanwork together. That’s what our alliance is about. Defeating Darius and forging a future beyond that.”
Fanon snorted a laugh.
Mareleau furrowed her brow. Etrix wasn’t there to weave his translation magic, so Fanon shouldn’t have been able to understand Ailan’s words.
He pushed off the tree he’d been leaning on and strode closer to them. With a shake of his head, he said something in the Elvyn language.
“Fanon,” Ailan hissed through her teeth.
He spoke again, his tone barbed. Garot nodded in agreement, though his words were lost to lack of translation as well.
“What are they saying?” Mareleau asked.
Fanon sauntered up to her, extending a closed fist. She flinched back, arms going protectively around Noah’s sling. He said something with a nod at his fist, and when she made no move, he wrested one of her hands away from Noah and forced something into her palm.
She nearly dropped it before she noticed a delicate silver chain, just long enough to be a bracelet, strung with a small onyx orb.
“Gift from Etrix and one of our charmweavers,” Fanon said with no small amount of irritation. Her eyes widened as she realized she could understand him. “And what I said is that my lovely consort is too optimistic.”
Ailan glared daggers at him as he moved to Cora next, dropping a bracelet in her hand. Ailan hissed his name again, but he paid her no heed.
“The tribunal will never agree to let humans live in El’Ara,” he said. “Nor will they agree to wait a year, much less seven, to seal the tear and complete the Veil.”
“You don’t know that,” Ailan said, then turned her gaze to Mareleau and Cora. “He doesn’t know that. I’ll do everything in my power to get them to agree to a solution that benefits everyone. Don’t listen to him.”
“Why not?” Fanon said with a scoff. “I’m the only one telling them the truth. And here’s a truth for you, my love. The tear has increased the Blight’s growth tenfold.”
She paled, her jaw slack. Then she spoke under her breath. “Do you want this alliance or not?”
Fanon said nothing but Garot raised his hand. “I do, but Fanon is right. The tribunal will never agree to let humans live in El’Ara. Well, aside from the Edel Morkara’Elle, but we saw how well that discussion went.”
“So, exile,” Cora said, tone empty. Movement rustled the underbrush, and moonlight caught on white fur. Valorre emerged from between the trees and gently nudged Cora’s shoulder with his muzzle. “I’m forging an alliance for the eventual exile of my people.”
Ailan’s shoulders fell. “I’ll give you time. That I can promise you. As regent, I can hold off the Blight long enough to sort everything out.”
Mareleau’s heart sank to her feet. The promise of time was meaningless when she couldn’t guarantee exactly how much they’d be given. She met Cora’s gaze and they exchanged a defeated look.
“I need to get back,” Cora said, absently stroking Valorre’s neck.
Mareleau didn’t want Cora to leave. She was her only friend in this strange place. The only person here who was truly on her side. Once she left, it would just be her and Noah.
Alone.
The future uncertain.
She swallowed the tightness in her throat and reached into the pocket of her robe. She extracted a wrinkled piece of parchment and held it out for Cora. “See that this gets to Lare.” She hated that her only communication with her husband could be a one-way letter. For now. She wouldn’t give up on getting what she wanted. What she needed.
Cora clasped her fingers around the paper, but she didn’t pull away. She gave Mareleau a weighted look, one that spoke of last resorts. Mareleau glanced at Cora’s hands, one connected to the paper they both held, the other pressed to Valorre’s neck. Realization dawned. All Mareleau needed to do was give the slightest sign, the subtlest nod, and Cora could worldwalk them away. Mareleau would be free of this place where she might as well be a prisoner. She could see her husband again. She could go home.
