“It seems, against all odds, you succeeded in your mission to bring Vessel Thorn back to us.”
The woman had only barely approved the wild idea of sending Rynna at all, but considered it worth the risk, given Rynna’s undisclosed experience and skills.
“Yes, ma’am.” Rynna swallowed hard.
“Thank you, Awakened. You are dismissed.” Takara’s eyes found the older Hollow-born. “Thorn, stay for debriefing. If you’re well enough.” Her gaze lingered on him in careful assessment.
“Yes, ma’am. I am.”
“Very well.” She straightened and looked across the room. “And will somebody please restrain this one?” Her focus locked onto Kaelith. “Both his hands and his mouth.”
The room erupted in an instant, voices clashing in argument.
Oh boy, Rynna thought, relieved at the dismissal.
This meeting was about to get ugly. She also appreciated Takara’s subtle way of sidestepping any questions the other Wardens might have had about how, exactly, a low-level Awakened had found and infiltrated the enemy’s stronghold and got out again on her own.
The Rules generally limited her ability to intervene directly as she had, and her full skills were held largely in check most of the time, but if needed, her potential was close to limitless. Her value was being a shaved knuckle in the hole for when things went horribly wrong, and to help nudge things away from disaster by enabling the true heroes. But Thorn was one of Fenn’s only true friends, and she’d managed to convince both herself and Takara that he was Mission-critical, given his ability to help Bran channel and control the power of the Great Phoenix.
As she made her way to the door, leaving the commotion behind, she felt Fenn’s familiar presence slip noiselessly beside her, walking in step to escort her out.
He waited until the door to the great hall had closed behind them before speaking.
“I wish you’d told me you were leaving.” He paused. “But thank you for bringing him back.”
“You would have insisted on coming, and you’re needed here.” Her hands itched to touch him, but she held back. “You’re welcome.”
“I suppose we’ll need to talk about Kaelith,” he added.
“Yes.” She knew he wasn’t just referring to what the Wardens would decide. He understood at least part of her complicated history with both this world and the traitor.
Fenn stepped closer and lifted his hand gently to her chin, his fingers warm as he raised her face to meet his gaze. “Why did you save him?”
“I don’t know,” she choked, her throat tightening as the tears began to well in her eyes. “I had Skarn immobilized and was about to grab Thorn and run. But then I sawhim…screaming for help from within Skarn. The old him. The one I knew over fifty years ago.”
Fenn’s eyes squeezed shut, his forehead coming to rest softly against hers. “Do you still love me?”
She blinked in shock. “What? How could you even ask that?” After everything they’d been through these past eight years? “Of course.”
She pulled him down into a kiss, pushing the mask aside, not caring who might see, but he didn’t respond.
His lips were soft and unmoving against hers. Then— “Are you sure?”
“Fenn, nothing in this world or any other could change that.”
He exhaled deeply, and then she felt his hand slide to the back of her neck. His fingers curled in her hair, and he pulled her into him with sudden force, hard and rough as his mouth claimed hers.
When he finally pulled away, they were both breathless, foreheads resting together, eyes locked.
“Okay.” He squeezed her fingers in his hand. Then his back straightened, and his shoulders squared, and in that moment, he was once again the Commander of the Alliance’s Third Regiment. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” Her voice shook with a mix of relief and disbelief.
“Yes.” He hesitated, his gaze steady on hers. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the things you’ve told me since the snake revealed himself in Gale Reach, and I’m not entirely surprised by this...with Kaelith.”
“What?”
“Look.” He searched her face. “We’ll talk about it later tonight. I need to get back inside, or they’ll think we’re doing something untoward out here.”
