“You should be at the hatchery, not tending to my bedside,” I told her.
“Alaryk wanted a familiar face here if you woke while he was gone,” she informed me. “Tarkosh understands. They’re all busy, but they’ll make do.”
“Does she hate me for it?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Of course not. But…she’ll come around,” Syris answered, making me bite my lip.
“I have to go home anyway,” I told Syris. She frowned. “I don’t know what will happen now that Ryak and Nevin are dead.I’m worried about my family, about Kiron. I need to leave. And soon.”
You’re not going anywhere,came Alaryk’s voice, deep and certain in my mind. I gasped, memory pushing to the forefront.
“What is it?” Syris asked.
Just then, I heard the thud of boots on the stone stairs outside before the heavy door was pushed open.
Alaryk stood on the threshold, looking like he’d been sprinting here, his breath a little heavy. When he stepped into the dwelling, Syris rose.
“Thank you, Syris,” he murmured, holding the door open for her, his intention clear.
My friend looked back at me, inclining her head. “I’ll see you soon,” she assured me. “Rest.”
I nodded, watching her slip past Alaryk’s wide berth until she disappeared out the door. The light of the setting sun flooded in, but curiously, Alaryk kept the door open.
“I want to take you to Ny’am,” he told me. He pressed his pointer finger into the pot beside his bed, which had once been filled with blue powder but now lay nearly depleted. “I’ve used up all thesersapowder, and I think the heartstone will help you.”
I shook my head. “Alaryk?—”
“Can you stand?”
“There’s so much we have to talk about,” I breathed.
“Then we’ll talk there,” he replied, voice determined. When I didn’t move to stand, he plucked me from the bed himself, and I gripped onto his shoulders in surprise, though I knew he wouldn’t let me fall.
“Seems I don’t have a choice,” I murmured.
His face was unreadable.
“No, you don’t.”
Then we swept out of the dwelling, and Alaryk closed the door with his foot. Luckily this area of Grymia was away from the hustle and bustle of the village’s center. The only other thingsback here were the hatchery and a few scattered dwellings, so no one was around to see Alaryk carry me toward the mountain.
The shade of it felt cool, sliding over my skin. Though I was only in a tunic, my skin felt hot. The shade felt like a relief, which was only deepened when Alaryk guided us to the familiar cavern entrance, hidden in the rock face, and down the narrow stone stairs we’d once traveled together. Alaryk said nothing, and even though the darkness enveloped us, I didn’t mind it, only pressing my hands into his shoulders harder.
The cavern looked more brightly lit in the light of the setting sun, casting rays of gold and pink to illuminate the dark stone and blue, trickling water.
Like before, I felt the heartstone magic skim across my flesh—a whisper, a summoning. I felt it so much easier now, as if my entire body was tuned to it, anticipating it.
In a way, it felt like sinking into a hot bath after a long day. A comfort. A relief.
Alaryk had been right to bring me here.
Along one of the stone walkways, toward the center of the cavern, there was a series of crumbled pillars that appeared to have once made a ring around the landing. Perhaps a pavilion. Alaryk brought me to one, toppled onto its side, the small slab a perfect bench. The pillar was cool beneath me, and I gazed up at Alaryk, a thousand unspoken things between us that seemed dammed up in my throat.
Instead of untangling them, I remained silent.
It was strange being so close to him again. Strange and achingly familiar. So many hurts and so many apologies and so many wants jumbled in my brain.
He went to his knees before me so that he wasn’t looming, until our eyes were level with one another’s.
