He straightened as if already beneath the scrutiny of important eyes. He might be lazier than me on a Rhodairen summer day, but he also liked his praise.
By the time we reached the top of the stairs, my breath came a little faster, my skin gleaming with sweat despite the slowly setting sun. As we crested the final stair, stepping into a wide, rectangular terrace of scattered chairs and tables, I froze.
Among a small, gathered group stood Estrel.
She’d been burned. Badly.
Scar tissue covered the left side of her body. Her skin twisted from the newly healed burns starting at the tips of her fingers, stretching up her arm, around her neck, and down her shoulder blade. Her raven hair, cut to right below her ears, stopped at a hard line halfway down the left side of her skull. The style might have looked purposeful if it weren’t for the burns marking her scalp.
My insides turned to stone. I knew Estrel had been burned, but this… I swallowed hard against the rising lump in my throat, a slow fury snaking its way up my skin.
Razel had done this.
Estrel wore her flying leathers, the supple material molded to her muscular frame. The remnants of the gold and black lines of her Corvé tattoo glimmered in the fading light, and my heart panged at the sight of the crow master marking.
Someone across from her spotted us and said something to her. She fell still as a deer caught in the moonlight.
She turned. I lurched forward. She’d barely broken from the group when I careened into her arms, nearly knocking her to the ground. My injuries stung, but I didn’t care as her strength enveloped me, the familiar scent of leather and rookeries rising off her. Tears burned, threatening to spill unchecked, and I squeezed her tighter to keep them at bay.
“You’re here,” Estrel murmured in her familiar, resonating tone. “You made it, Little Peep.”
Something broke open inside me at the name. Estrel had trained me to be a rider nearly my entire life, but she always said I excelled most at talking. The nickname threatened to resurrect the ghosts of memories I’d locked away, memories of fire and acrid smoke, of people screaming… I shoved them away, tearing free of her suddenly as the joy of seeing her shuttered into something dark and empty.
“Where have you been?” I demanded.
Her smile slipped. “That’s a long story.”
“That’s not an answer!” The words tore from me with unexpected strength. I’d known I was angry with Estrel for what she’d done, but I hadn’t realized how deep that well went. It hurt to know she’d kept so much from me. I wanted to believe she’d had her reasons, but nothing felt like enough.
“Why?” I asked hoarsely.
Why had she left? Why had she let me think she was dead?
Her arms enveloped me once more. I went still.
“I owe you so many answers,” she said softly. “I promise I’ll give them to you when I can.”
Feeling cold and suddenly aware of the people around us, I relented with a nod. Now wasn’t the time. We had to appear united.
As Estrel pulled back, her eyes widened, finding Res. “Oh, Thia.”
He straightened beneath her gaze, and she moved slowly forward, as if approaching something sacred. Res lowered his head in a small bow as Estrel reached out a hand. It hovered just above his brow, fingers trembling. Then she closed it into a fist and pulled away.
For half a second, her composure fractured, and I knew how depthless the despair that threatened to wash over her was. That she couldn’t even bring herself to touch Res… Suddenly, I regretted my outburst of anger, though it still simmered inside me.
Estrel straightened, drawing a deep breath and releasing it slowly. Her attention fell on Kiva, whose wry smile broke into a full grin. Estrel let out a familiar, barking laugh, a sound I never thought I’d hear again. They clasped hands.
Estrel glanced at Ericen as she and Kiva released each other. “You picked up a stray. How’d you come by him?”
“Plucked him out of the sea,” Kiva replied. “I never did have much luck fishing.”
“I’m sure you’re far better at it than swordplay.” Ericen flashed her a sharp smile, and I nearly knocked him upside the head. I knew what he was doing. Stranded in unfamiliar territory and surrounded by enemies, he’d fallen back into the familiar comfort of playing the arrogant Illucian prince.
“He saved my life,” I explained. “It’s along story.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.
“I say we just slit his throat and be done with him.” Samra’s hand fell to a dagger at her hip.
Estrel smirked. “As pleasant as ever, Castair.”
