Connor nodded and turned back to the mantle.
“Tals?”Connor asked, realizing she hadn’t moved or spoken while they’d been going over the letters.
She slowly turned to face them and held up a small medallion engraved with the image of a snake with an amber jewel for an eye.
Cold iced Connor’s veins.Slowly, he brought out the medallion that had been warming his pocket since the battle.He took the piece Thalia held up and reluctantly compared it with his.They looked like two halves of a whole.Alison’s piece was decorative and looked valuable with the jeweled eye.His half showed a flat engraving of the snake.
The chunks cut out of each piece let them lock together as a set.As he held his piece up to the one Thalia held, his heart beat faster.Just because they were two pieces of a medallion didn’t mean they were pieces of the same whole.Part of him didn’t want to know.Wanted to hold on to the moment of uncertainty in order to preserve the Alison who loved him.Who had helped shape the man he was.
Meeting Thalia’s eyes, he knew he had to accept whatever came.She had a right to know the truth about Jax’s death, no matter what it meant for him personally.Nodding to her, he held steady while she pressed the pieces together.A snap clicked the two pieces into place, creating a heavy, seamless medallion.Elaborate on one side, understated on the other, but holistically depicting the famed viper.
Connor’s lungs heaved at the confirmation that the men who’d attacked them had been sent intentionally.The ambush in the forest was no accident.He had the evidence of it in his palm.
Ravensmere Keep, Realm of Calderre
AloudthunkshookConnor from the wanderings his mind was chasing at the bottom of his mug of tea.He’d been up with the others most of the night, going over what they’d found with Morgan and Cass.Then up early with Opal for a horseback ride before her daily lessons.
He refocused to find a large book next to him on the table.
“Everything you never wanted to know about old languages,” Ryan said.“Have fun.”
Connor chuckled.“I know you mean that sincerely.Thank your mom for me.Or did this monstrosity come from your collection?”
“Hers, and I will.But you should really thank her yourself.”
Ryan’s parents were both historians and had an impressive collection of books at home.Though Ryan had never wanted to sit behind a desk, he did pick up a love of reading and learning from his parents.For that matter, so had Connor.
A touch of guilt prickled his chest.He really should have made the time.Alison may have mentored him and guided him in his warrior training, but Ryan’s mother, Charmaine, had nurtured the grieving boy he’d been.Offered a mother’s love and guidance when he needed it, and more importantly when he thought he didn’t.
Ryan interpreted his silence correctly, and being the friend that he was, pushed harder.“She’d love to meet Opal.Probably the only grandchild she’ll get anytime soon.”
“I know,” Connor said, rubbing his temple.Everything with Alison made him want to close down.But that wasn’t fair to those around him.“I’d like that too.”
Ryan leaned against the counter, relaxed other than the serious tone of his voice.“She didn’t believe them.That you were dead.Told me to keep hope until they brought your body back.”
“I’m sorry, Ry.”
“I needed the reminder.”Ryan’s lips twitched into a smile.“I’ve never been happier to be wrong.”
“I’ll visit her soon, I promise.”
“Good.Now, back to your reading.”Ryan gestured at the book on the table.
“All that guilt to extract a promise from me?”
“I’m a good son.”Ryan winked at him and strode deeper into the kitchen.
Shaking his head, Connor lifted the cover and began to turn through the pages, keeping an eye out for any of the symbols he’d been drawing.The pages blurred rather quickly, eliciting a headache, but he kept turning them.
The sound of cabinets opening and closing drew his attention several chapters later.
“Hey, where does Celina hide the berry mead?”Ryan asked.
Connor looked up to find his friend frowning and laughed.“The sun hasn’t even crested yet, Ry.”
“Code breaking is an art, Con,” Ryan retorted.“It requires creativity more than caffeine.Don’t knock the process.”
“You’re sure it’s a code, then?”
