“I tried to come for you during the battle with Snow,” he says, his voice low. “But I couldn’t get to you. There was too much happening. It wasn’t safe.” He lets my hand go.
“This is Isla. She…she is my friend.” It feels inadequate as well, but I need Orion to know that Isla is no threat. That she is with me.
Orion turns to her and gives a small nod. “I’m Orion.”
“It is good to meet you. Thank you for coming for us.” Her voice is steady despite the exhaustion written in every line of her body.
“Let’s get inside,” Orion says, gesturing toward the cabin. “Keep your voices low. My wife and son are asleep. Damon and his wife are sleeping too. I felt you use your magic.” He turns to me. “I called Delphine and went straight to where you used it. Good thing I did. It’s how I found you the first time as well.”
“It is a good thing you did,” Isla says.
I make a noise of agreement.
We follow him across the grass. The air here smells different from the deadlands. It smells of earth and growing things. Like a world that hasn’t given up quite yet.
We are halfway to the cabin when the front door opens.
A figure steps out into the dark. He is tall, and broad through the chest and shoulders, so I’m guessing male. His hair is pale against the darkness.
He stops on the porch, his gaze moving from Orion to me to Isla and back. His expression is guarded.
“Sebastian,” he says.
“Damon,” I push out.
Again, not my enemy. But not my friend either.
It has to change.
I walk toward him and extend a hand. The handshake is brief and formal. Two once-kings who know each other by reputation and little else.
“This is Isla,” I tell him. “She is with me.” I give an inward wince because it’s worse than calling her my friend.
Damon inclines his head. “Welcome to the Nezcara Valley.”
Isla nods. “Thank you. It is good to meet you.”
“Come inside,” Damon says. “Please be quiet because Maya will have our hides if we wake the baby.”
We step through the door into the cabin. The interior is warm, a fire burns low in the stone hearth, casting amber light across rough-hewn wooden walls and simple, sturdy furniture. It’s not grand. Not a king’s dwelling by any measure. But there is something about the way the light falls and the way the warmth wraps around us that makes it feel more like a home than any court I’ve set foot in.
Damon moves to a sideboard and returns with a pitcher of water and several copper mugs. He pours without asking and sets the cups before us.
“There’s food if you’re hungry,” he says.
I look over at Isla.
“Water would be most welcome,” she says. “I’ll eat in the morning. Right now, I need rest. At this point, I’m dead on my feet.” She gives him the ghost of a smile.
“Water is enough,” I say. “Thank you.”
Isla wraps both hands around her cup and drinks deeply. I do the same. I drink until the cup is empty, and Damon refills it.
Orion leans against the far wall, watching us with an unreadable expression. Then he pushes off and crosses to a door on the far side of the main room.
“There’s a bedroom here,” he says, pushing the door open a crack. Soft darkness beyond. He turns back to us and speaks under his breath. “You both need rest. We all do. Whatever needs to be discussed, it can wait until morning.”
He pauses, glancing between us. “There’s also a room out in the barn if you’d prefer more privacy. It’s comfortable enough, and warm.”
