“Commander!”
The shouts echo through the Garrison like a bell. Helmets are lifted, fists slapped against chests in salute. The noise surges like a tide, and I glance at my uncle just in time to see the flicker of emotion cross his face—something between pride and disbelief.
Aila pushes through the crowd first, her dark, chin-length hair swaying behind her. Isaac isn’t far behind, nearly tripping over a coil of rope someone abandoned in their excitement. Giorgi appears at the edge of the group, nodding, and Lorne trails after them all, quieter but smiling.
“General, you old beast,” Isaac calls, his grin stretching wide. “We knew you’d pull through.”
Mylo dismounts first, boots thudding against the dirt. “Of course he did. He’s got the strength of a lion.”
“Looks like he’s got the hair of one too, now,” Giorgi says, chuckling. “Let me know if I should have Matilda fetch her shears.”
“All in good time.” Kormak swings down from his horse with a grunt, his landing just a pinch less solid than it used to be. But the soldiers don’t see it. They’re too busy cheering, clapping each other on the backs, some even stepping forward for a handshake or a bowed head of welcome. He accepts it all without fanfare, giving nods and brief murmurs in return, but I can tell it’s wearing on him already.
I maneuver to the ground but stay near Thora a moment longer, watching the scene unfold, watching the light in my people’s eyes. They needed this. Needed to know he was still standing. That Delasurvia hasn’t lost everything.
Soldiers and servants alike approach me to welcome me back home, and although I extend my thanks to them, my gaze keeps darting back to my uncle. A weight has lifted from my shoulders seeing him here, in his element.
As if feeling my relief, Uncle Kormak turns my way with the hint of a smile.“Thank you.”
His voice in my mind causes grateful tears to well in my eyes. I give him a nod and turn to hand Thora’s reins to one of the stablehands who appears at my side.
Sir Holden dismounts beside me and says nothing, but as always, I feel the weight of his gaze as he does a quick sweep of the yard, ever vigilant.
Aila reaches me next, clapping me on the back. “Commander,” shesays with mock sternness. “Sticking around?”
“For a while, at least,” I reply.
“It’s good to see you back home.”
“Yeah, it’s good to be back.” The words come with a strange ache.
She must see it. “What’s going on?”
I gesture toward the keep. “Walk with me?”
She nods. “Lead the way.”
As we cross the yard, I catch Lorne speaking with my uncle, and Giorgi muttering something to Mylo that makes them both laugh. The sky above is streaked with the softest pinks and dusky violets, the first star flickering just above the tower spires. The breeze carries the air from the sea; it smells like seaweed and forthcoming rain. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the scent.
Aila and I step into the Garrison, the stone corridors of the army barracks cool and familiar. Boots echo against the flagstones as we make our way to the war room, the iron handle strong and cold beneath my palm as I open the door.
Inside, the long table remains exactly how I remember it: maps stacked neatly, the large one of Terre Ferique spread across the center like a battlefield waiting to be fought.
I close the door behind us and turn to face her. “I wanted to speak to you alone.”
Aila straightens a little. “You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you’re about to throw something heavy in my lap and expect me not to blink.”
I exhale, almost smiling. “Is there any other way?”
She leans on the table with both hands, bracing. “All right. Hit me.”
I take a deep breath. I find it hard to say the words because I know, once it’s official, I will feel like a part of me is missing. So I decide to broach another subject first. “Any word from the scouts sent up to Dulcamar?”
“They’ve returned with no intel,” she tells me. “The fortress isalmost impossible to approach. Giorgi says there may be a way in through the underground river that comes in from the Batu Basah Ocean, but that tunnel is ridden with deadly nightshade, so we’re unsure it’s our best course.”
