Vera had offered her a way out of that. A way back to the light, to dreams, but even that felt impossibly far away. She couldn’t shake the grip of the years she had spent in the Malikinar, in Belvar. Couldn’t open herself up to the possibility that, come the end of this job, she might finally have the home she had always wanted, a place where she was safe.
She knew she had revealed more than she ought to and cursed the mylak for it, but either Allaster was too drunk to notice, or he chose not to press her. In the silence, it struck her for the first time how similar she really was to Eirlana, both the real woman and the persona Kasira had crafted. All of them had had their futures taken from them. It was good craft to build your lies around the truth, but perhaps Kasira had put too much of herself into this character.
Too much truth was dangerous.
“Dreams are unrealized stories.” Allaster’s voice was soft as the swish of the lake’s waters. Twice as alluring. “How can someone so passionate about stories not have a dream?”
The question struck her strangely, and it took her time to understand why. It wasn’t just the poignancy; it was that it meant Allaster had noticed,had thoughtabout her. He had followed her here, just as she had hoped, and every word out of her mouth was nothing but a performance, but in that moment, it felt like something more.
Shewantedit to be more.
She dug her fingers into the grass, the soil cool against her hot skin. Then she ripped a clump free, thinking of the past few years. “I let them die.”
“Dreams don’t die.” He spun one ring about his finger with the single-minded focus of a prayer. “They just become something else.”
“Regrets,” she muttered and tossed the grass aside. The blades fluttered slowly to the ground. She could feel him studying her and reached for the mylak bottle, only to find it empty.
She set it back down with a sigh and lurched to her feet. She was dancing too close to things better left buried. If she wanted her regret to become a dream once more, this could go no further. “I’m going to bed.”
“I’m trying here, Corynth,” Allaster said quietly. She peered down at him stretched along the grass, the fringes of his copper hair curling over his brow. He was staring at his hands stretched before him, flexing them as if reaching for something he couldn’t touch. “I’ve not had to do this for a very long time.”
“Talk to someone?”
His too-bright eyes found hers. Was it the Eyrie moonlight, or was the blue almost gone from them entirely?
“Get to know them,” he admitted uncomfortably. “Be … a friend.”
She didn’t know what to say. Her throat had gone dry, her heart diving into a mad skitter that only made her feel foolish, like some lovestruck maiden whose sweetheart had finally noticed her. It wasn’t the right response. She shouldn’t care that Allaster was trying. Shouldn’t care about the single golden eye glowing in the enclosure at her back.
His words shouldn’t make her feel a thing.
Guard your heart, Loraya whispered.
“Goodnight, Librarian.” She snapped her fingers, returning to her room, but the ache in her chest followed. It never truly went away, a bruise that wouldn’t heal, but she had learned long ago to live with the pain.
The pillow on her bed was slightly askew, and she shifted it aside to find a paper folded underneath. She had wondered when Vera would make contact again.
Unfurling the note, she read:
You have three months to build our case. Two weeks before Alderotch, we will call the Conclave.
Alderotch marked the shortest day of the year, when Haidra’s faithful would repledge themselves to the goddess’s light, as they did every solstice. It was also the day currently set for the wedding between the Yadora heir and the Kalish Prince, according to Fen. Vera wanted her move to overshadow the union, or at the very least, be the main topic of conversation at it. While the King married his son to the enemy, she struck a blow to the heart of evil.
Three months.
With Allaster’s decision to grant her magic, he had finally accepted her as his Assistant, and this evening had been her first step toward establishing a more personal relationship with him. He had begun to trust her. She had only to solidify that mistake and begin maneuvering him into compromising positions, and three months was plenty of time to do it.
And yet, as she climbed into bed, her mind fuzzy with the effects of the mylak and the sound of Allaster’s voice, she couldn’t help wishing she had longer.
CHAPTER 20
ALLASTER
ALLASTER REMAINED IN THEEYRIE FOR SOME TIME AFTEREIRLANAdeparted. It had been so long since he had simply sat in here and listened to the sounds of the beasts, to the wind, to the magic that laced the air. It had been so long since he had talked to someone. Just talked, without consideration of politics and maneuvers and the future looming before him.
He didn’t know what to make of the fact that it had been with Eirlana.
Once, it would not have seemed so strange. There had still been Kalish mages at the Library when he had first arrived, Haidra’s influence barely decades old. Then, Felnar had been a city of people known for their traditions. They had celebrated all manner of things in the Kalish capital, from the changing of the seasons to the births of their children. Granted, those celebrations had been reserved even then—nothing like Riviairen festivities—but more than the drab affairs they were now.
