Auma and Samra had already crossed their Sella roads to rally their surviving forces, though Samra had left behind a gift for Kiva. Aroch now perched on her shoulders.
I rose onto my toes, searching the commotion of passing servants and nearby guards. A flash of auburn caught my eye, and then Caylus appeared in the corridor. He nearly walked straight into a woman carrying fresh loaves of bread, but she managed to dodge him without him even noticing. I met him halfway.
“You’re leaving?” he asked.
“I have to,” I replied. “This battle has already begun.”
“I heard. I have something for you.” At his back, three young boys each wheeled a small contraption forward. They looked like horns with a crank for a handle.
That familiar excitement filled Caylus’s eyes as he held up the glass Illucian arrow. “I discovered this glass was actually a composite. That means they melt it down and mix it with something else, in this case Alorr. The sound these produce will shatter the glass arrows, but you have to be in range of them, and I can’t guarantee they won’t break anything else of the same composite. Also—”
I flung my arms around him in a tight embrace. He went quiet, then enfolded me in his arms.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Be careful,” he said quietly.
I snorted, pulling back. “Not really my style.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
I squeezed his hand. “Are you okay?” I hadn’t seen him since Malkin’s true demise.
“I am,” he replied. “I’m going to stay here and attend the university. The king and queen agreed to sponsor me for a term.” This time, his smile filled his whole face. “For once, I know what I’m looking for.” He offered me a folded paper. “I also made you this.”
When I flattened it, I found a familiar image staring back. Me dressed in my flying leathers, Res a hovering shadow at my back. He’d redrawn the image he’d made for me that day in his workshop. The one Razel had burned to ash.
It was a quiet reminder of strength. Ofmystrength.
I nodded to him, folding the drawing up and tucking it safely away. Then I joined the others, and together we crossed through the shrine.
* * *
We emerged in the castle graveyard.
The mausoleum was coated in dust and cobwebs, and Ericen had to throw his shoulder into the door to force it open. We stepped out of the dim building and back into Rhodaire.
The scent of ripened fruit filled the air, sweet and heavy. The long grass swayed about my ankles, brushing against the headstones in gentle whispers. Above, the sky was a familiar, clouded blue, just like the one I’d spent so many days staring up at, dreaming of soaring through on the back of a crow.
My heart swelled, filling my chest, my throat. I stepped slowly back onto familiar soil, soft and moist beneath my boots. Not frosted with cold or rocky from the sea or coarse and dry—soft, warm earth. I wanted to sink into it and never rise.
Res trilled softly. I laid a hand on his shoulder, his head too far above me now. “Welcome home.” The bond thrummed with contentment, and he leaned into me.
“Halt!” a voice called. Two Rhodairen soldiers appeared at the fence line, hands on their swords. They were half-drawn before they saw me. Disbelief dawned slowly on their faces as they took in Estrel, presumed dead, and Ericen, the Illucian prince. By the time they spotted Res, they were gaping.
I grinned, and Kiva stepped past me. “Lyris, Seair!”
The sound of her voice snapped both guards to attention, though their eyes kept flitting back to Res.
“L-Lieutenant Mirkova,” Lyris stuttered. “Wh-what’s going on?”
“Where’s the queen?” I asked.
“In her office,” the soldier answered. “How in the Saints’ name—” Her words failed her, and she simply pointed at Res.
I grinned. “Caliza will explain everything soon.”
We followed Lyris and Seair up the hill to the castle. They kept looking between Estrel, to whom they bowed their heads each time, and Ericen, the distrust evident in their faces, and Res, for whom no emotion seemed large enough.
