Amaia’s father descended next. An older male with graying hair, who Amaia went to more slowly than her mother but withjust as much emotion, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. She got her height from him, I noticed. They were nearly eye level with one another.
The last to leave the transport Elthika, save for the rider, was Kiron.
Amaia looked up at him as he navigated down the wing, his eyes darting to the village beyond before they refocused on his sister.
There was a slump in his shoulders, many words that went unspoken as the two siblings regarded one another. I remembered the hurt that Amaia had revealed to me when it came to her relationship with him. How abandoned she’d felt, how he could’ve taken better care with his family.
But blood was blood, I knew.
And despite everything, I knew in that single moment as Kiron’s expression crumbled that he’d had no idea what had awaited Amaia here. If he had…he never would’ve asked this of her. He would’ve rather died.
It was whatIhad needed to see.
Amaia went to him. Her head nestled into his neck as his arms came around her shoulders.
I let go of a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. Behind me, the nosiest of the Grymians were watching as well. I wondered what it was that they’d report to their friends and neighbors.
I knew that they talked about Amaia around the village. About Brune, too, but mostly Amaia. Stories and opinions about her were varied. Unsurprisingly, most still had a favorable view of her, seeing the theft of the eggs as coercion by her Dakkari kinsmen, an impossible choice, especially with Brune’s life held in the balance.
Most hadseenher when I’d brought her back to Grymia that stormy day. I’d had to race from the landing field with her enveloped in my arms, unconscious and bleeding. Most hadgasped, faces paling, horrorstruck at what she’d endured. The news of the eggs hadn’t broken until the next day, but by then, everyone had known what state she’d been in. Brune too.
And so, it wasn’t as it had been, as it could’ve been. Amaia’s choice that day might always follow her, as Myzalla had warned—not just here in Grymia, but throughout all of Karak. But…the Grymians had seemed to make up their minds. And they’d stood behind the Dakkari they had once mistrusted.
Some, of course, like Gethrin’s mother, still spread vicious lies whenever they could. But most merely listened, knowing she was only a grieving mother while shaking their heads the moment she turned her back. I’d watched it too many times to count.
My people’s acceptance of Amaia had lifted a weight from my shoulders because it only meant her life here would be easier. I didn’t want her fearful every time she left the hatchery. I didn’t want to worry that she’d be spit on or called a disgusting name or forced to keep her head down after everything that she’d already had to experience.
It wasenough.
Grymia had seemed to decide the same, especially given her actions the night of the Elthika attack. How many lives she’d saved, how tirelessly she’d worked, even at her own expense.
I felt the prickle of her familiar gaze, and when I turned back toward the landing field, I saw she was looking straight at me, her arm around her mother’s waist, her hand in her father’s.
And I’d almost asked her to give them up,I thought, thinking of how foolish that would’ve been.To remain here, she would’ve had to leave them behind.
I approached her and her family, and we met halfway across the landing field.
As I neared, I saw her mother’s reaction to me. A widening of her eyes, the shadow of doubt and fear flickering across her expression. I wondered if she’d been outside the East Gates thatday when I’d come to collect the Dakkari. I wondered what she thought of me now.
I inclined my head to all of them, meeting the eyes of Kiron when I lifted my gaze, knowing hedefinitelyremembered me. Brune led his family forward as well until they hovered behind Amaia’s.
“I am Alaryk Arn’dyne,” I greeted, my eyes going to Amaia, whose eyes were filled with warmth and unushered tears. “I know your journey has been long, and you must have a lot of questions, all of which we will address after you’re rested. But for now…”
Amaia smiled, and I released the bond, letting her flood back in. I ushered out a sharp breath of relief when I felt her.
“Welcome to Grymia,” I finished.
A new home and a new beginning for them all.
Later that night, I stood outside the quiet dwelling where Amaia’s family were situated. A large one, with three separate rooms, to comfortably accommodate all of them. They’d been resting for most of the day, having bathed and slept. Amaia had just prepared dinner, and while she’d asked me to join them, I’d thought it was best if she had the time with her family.
So they could talk freely about everything that had happened without a stranger looming. I got the sense that Amaia’s mother was furious with Kiron, but she was determined to smooth it over.
Amaia took my hands. “You’re sure you don’t want to stay?” she asked.
I knew how much her family meant to her. This was what she’d looked forward to. I knew how worried she’d been, thinking that something might’ve gone wrong when Myzalla was retrieving them out of Dothik. Every day that had passedwithout sight of them had only made her fears more pronounced.
So today had been a relief. A joyous one. Her family was here, reunited. I didn’t want to stand in the way of that.
