“You should have told me who I was. I could have kept that secret.”
“Perhaps. But I did what I thought was right, what I thought the North Star wanted.” Meleri sighed softly and squeezed Caris’ hand before letting her go. “Take Nathaniel to the Warden’s Island. The wardens know alchemy better than anyone, so perhaps they can understand how he was unmade. But Caris, you must know, they may not be able to save him.”
“I have totry.”
“And that, my dear, makes you the child of all your parents.” Meleri stepped back, looking over Caris’ shoulder at Blaine. “I will coordinate with the military and the western bloodlines to begin pushing back against the rhetoric and propaganda about the invasion. I once promised the North Star a revolution, and I will give her one.”
Blaine nodded. “Will you remain here?”
“Until you return. The town is defensible enough, and we’re scheduled to receive a battalion in the next day or so.”
“I’ll leave you the code to my televox so you can contact us. I need to call the wardens and prepare for tomorrow.”
“I’ll come with you,” Caris said, sounding a little hoarse. He watched her lean down and grab her teaspoon, dipping it in the honey jar before popping it into her mouth. She licked it clean before dropping it into the teacup and followed him out of the library. She was silent until they reached the stairs, her arm brushing his as they descended.
“All right?” he asked.
“Thank you.”
“I carried you out of Amari and promised the star gods I would see you on the throne. My duty is to you, not to the Clockwork Brigade.”
“Meleri doesn’t see the difference. Nathaniel did.” Caris hesitated, her gait hitching the same way her breath did in her throat. “Or I thought he did.”
Blaine thought about all the comfort he could try to give her, but it would only be a false sort of care, and he refused to offer that. And Blaine couldn’t deny her that desperate desire to help, for if it were Honovi in Nathaniel’s place, he’d do anything to save his husband.
A heart was a dangerous weapon, after all.
Eight
HONOVI
TheCelestial Sprite’s gangplank lowered with a screech of gears, and Honovi was walking down it before the end hit the arrival pier. He raked his gaze over the group of people waiting to board before letting his attention settle on his husband’s tense form. He didn’t recognize the face, hidden as it was behind a veil, but the clan colors on the plaid wrapped around his waist were Clan Storm, and Honovi would recognize that pattern anywhere.
“Are you all right?” Honovi asked.
Blaine’s lips tipped up at the corners in a thin smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Better than you. I’m a little concerned at how often you seem to be getting shot at.”
The young woman standing beside him—slim and redheaded, with a dearth of freckles across her cheeks—spoke up in Caris’ voice. “You were shotagain?”
“I’m fine,” Honovi said. He couldn’t say the same for everyone on theComhairle nan Cinnidheanhe’d left behind. “I hear we’re not staying long.”
“Long enough to board,” Blaine said, pointedly putting one foot on the gangplank.
Honovi waved him forward. “Come on, then. Let’s get everyone on board.”
It didn’t take long to load the airship, and the dock master had orders to look the other way when it came to their arrival and departure. Duchess Meleri had used her clout to ensure there would be no record of their presence in Veran that morning. The passengers they took on would never show up in any manifest, especially the one who came on board under guard and only after Caris had been ensconced in the flight deck, out of sight.
Therionetkaonce known as Nathaniel Clementine was quiet when he was escorted up the gangplank, the shackles wrapped around his wrists jangling with every step he took. The shirt he wore had a wide enough collar that Honovi could glimpse the vivisection scars beneath, the puckered flesh red and painful-looking.
“He isn’t a magician,” Blaine said quietly from his spot beside Honovi. “We’re in no danger of a magical attack from him. He’ll remain under guard for the entire flight to the Celestine Lake.”
“And Caris?”
“She knows not to go near him. Nathaniel has no memory of attacking her.”
“Neither did Gregor.”
“We think her being alone with him is what triggered the response. We nearly lost her. If she hadn’t…” His voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat after a moment. “We checked for scars. We thought he didn’t have any, but they’d sewn a veil into his chest to hide what they’d done. I don’t know if a visual check will be enough going forward.”
