“Do you think they made it home safely?” she asks after a time, interrupting our long silence. “Your people, I mean.”
“I hope so. I gave orders for them to return to the Hidden City at once. And I asked Halamar to tell Tassa where I myself had gone.”
“Yes, of course.” Ilsevel nods. “Halamar will be there. And Tassa. They might be on your side still, Taar. Mightn’t they?”
“They might,” I admit. “A small army, but a valiant one if it comes to that.” I lapse into silence again for a while before adding darkly: “Kildorath will be there as well.”
She goes very still in front of me. I cannot even feel her breathe.
“I will confront him first, if given the chance,” I continue. “I will accuse him of betrayal. If the elders hear what he did to you, it may be enough to turn them to our side.”
She emits a little huff of air. “Not if we’re thinking of thesameelders.”
She’s not wrong. Halaema and the others are just waiting for an excuse to rid themselves of my human bride. Now that Diira is dead, and Ilsevel is no longer bonded to one of our sacred licorneir, the tentative protection she enjoyed is gone. They may not perceive Kildorath’s actions as betrayal at all, but a noble service to Licorna.
And yet I must face them. All of them, the whole city full of people who are affected by my failure to overtake the citadel, to drive out our enemies. I must look into the eyes of those I have failed and own my fault . . . and whatever punishment they deem necessary.
We ride on, leaving the Morrona behind us. The air on this side of the river is fresher, as yet unpoisoned by thevardimnar.It is usually such a relief to make that crossing and breathe this air. Not this time. This time, terrible weight bows my shoulders. I feel fear akin to what I experienced as a child when fleeing across my ravaged realm on Mahra’s back. That same sense of confusion and terror, of not being able to guess what the future holds. As though there is no future at all.
The day lengthens toward evening. Now Elanlein stands above us on its rocky outcrop, and I lift my gaze to it as I have done many times in the past, seeking comfort in the sight of the last Holy House. This time, it seems only a marker on the road to my scaffold. Nevertheless, we make for those slopes, Elydarkeager to feast on ilsevel blossoms and replenish his essence. Too soon we are climbing the familiar road, wrapped in the safety of dusk, and I look from this high vantage down to the valley where the Hidden City lies.
It is there. They have not uprooted and moved on, but remained—waiting for me, hoping for my return. Or merely anticipating it.
Elydark finds a bounteous patch of ilsevel blooms and sets eagerly to the work of feasting. His red coat glows a little brighter, despite the anxiety permeating our souls, and his song becomes more optimistic. I stroke his shoulder, admittedly jealous. It will take more than a good meal to lift my spirits.
Ilsevel, tired and stiff from too many hours in the saddle, dismounts and moves to the edge of the overlook. There she stands in a patch of moonlight, gazing out on that sight which offers her no homely familiarity, only dread. I watch her, standing there with her arms wrapped around her slight frame. A wind blows up the mountainside, toying with long strands of her hair. Her face is very stern, her brow set with grim resolve.
And she is beautiful—so beautiful, in all her ferocious tenacity, her courage in the face of futility. I want to lay claim to this image of her, standing here under the moon. Mine in every way, heart, body, and soul. Our journey has been long and arduous, but the strengthening of our bond is undeniable. The eyes of my spirit can see what physical eyes cannot: ourvelra,so bright and endlesslycoiling around us, no longer a hinderance but a blessing. No distance now can cause me pain or fill my body with weakness. This love I have for her is no vulnerability, but my greatest strength.
If only I could protect her. If only I could reconcile the responsibility I bear for my people with my love for this woman. But it is not meant to be. There is no world I can imagine where she and they will coexist.
Dismounting Elydark and leaving him to his munching, I approach her from behind. She does not turn to me, but she is aware of my presence and does not startle when I put my arms around her and bury my face in her hair. “You could stay here,” I murmur. “Let me go down alone.”
She shivers and grips my arms tight. But then she shakes her head. “I will go with you.”
“It might be better if—”
“If I am left here alone, who’s to say I won’t be set upon suddenly? I have no weapon, no licorneir, no means to defend myself. You would prefer to abandon me, rather than keep me in your sight?”
“I will leave Elydark with you.”
“Absolutely not. You will have Elydark beside you for . . . for whatever comes.”
She is so firm, so imperious. Such a queen in her very essence.
I turn her to face me and, without a word, kiss her. A hard, passionate press of my lips to hers, as though I might sendmy very soul through her, a taproot to ground us both in this moment. She puts her arms around me, eagerly returning my kiss, adding strength to my strength. Part of me feared that the touch of her, the taste of her, would weaken my resolve; instead I find myself on firmer footing, more sure even in the midst of this great uncertainty. Whatever lies before us, I am hers and she is mine. And we will face what comes. Together.
At last I pull back a little, just far enough to look into her eyes, so dark and yet so shining with moonlight. If this is to be the end of our love story, what a fortunate man I am that I was given the chance to live it. Every aspect of it—the joy and the pain alike.
“Leol-nor—orir-nor,” I murmur, words from the old Licornyn marriage vows.“One flesh; one flame,” I speak again, in her own tongue. Then I lean forward and rest my forehead against hers. “Forever, myzylnala.”
She nods gently. “Vel-sa almar. E luralma idor-hath,”she sings, her voice a hymn, a prayer, a promise.
I bend my head and kiss her again. One last time.
I had half-hoped, as we arrive well after nightfall, that we would approach the Meeting House at the center of the city without attracting too much attention. A vain hope, it would seem. Someone must have spotted us, and word spread likewildfire fromdakathtodakath.As we pass along the dark street to the city center, every man, woman, and child seem to have gathered in their yards, staring at us in silent solemnity. There is no cheer, no joyful shout at the return of theirluinar. I see nothing but betrayal in their gazes, and feel the hurt, the fear, the rage pulsing in the atmosphere. All of which I deserve.
I’ve come to face it. And I will. But I wish there was some way I could shield Ilsevel from this gauntlet.
