"A delicacy, actually. Quite prized in certain regions. The flesh is considered very tender."
Cody stares at me for a long moment. Then a laugh bursts out of him, startled and genuine. "Are you… A'Vanti, are you teasing me?"
I let the corner of my mouth curve upward. Just slightly. Just enough.
The effect on Cody is immediate and devastating. His whole face changes; it softens and glows. He looks like someone has lit a candle inside his chest, and the light is pouring out through his eyes.
No one has ever looked at me like that. Like I am precious. That I am worth cherishing.
It makes me feel strange. Unbalanced. Like the deck has shifted beneath my feet, and I'm not sure which way is down anymore.
I clear my throat and change the subject. "Are you prepared for tomorrow? For the journey to Ceraste?"
Cody accepts the redirect with grace, though I don't miss the way his smile lingers. "Pretty much. Got a little packing left to do, but nothing major. Extra uniforms, toiletries, a few books so I have something to read on the trip." He pauses. "What about you? You doing okay with all of this?"
"I am… processing," I admit. "It will be strange to return. But I'm ready."
"Good." He nods. "That's good."
We stand there for a moment, the silence stretching between us. Not uncomfortable, but weighted with things unsaid.
Now. I should do it now.
I reach into the pocket of my robe and withdraw the small object I've been carrying. It sits in my palm. It's a tiny carved bird, no larger than my thumb, rendered in golden stone with delicate etched feathers and small curved talons.
Cody's brow furrows as he studies it. "Is that… a bird?"
"A gho'ba," I say. "A desert bird native to Ceraste." I turn the carving over in my fingers, tracing the familiar shape. "When we first met – when you told me your name – I thought you were saying gho'ba. I couldn't understand why this strange male was talking about a bird to me."
A smile tugs at Cody's mouth. "You thought my name was… a bird?"
"In my defense, I was half-dead at the time." I hold the carving out to him. "But the more I came to know you, the more I realized how fitting the mistake was. The gho'ba is a fierce hunter. It's silent and deadly when it needs to be, but with a loud, raucous call. It also has a peculiar habit of collecting things. Small stones, bits of shell, anything it finds interesting or beautiful. It lines its nest with them." I pause, letting my eyes meet his. "It reminded me of someone."
Cody takes the carving with careful hands, cradling it like it is precious. He runs his thumb over the delicate wings, the tiny etched feathers.
When he looks up, his eyes are bright. Suspiciously bright.
"A'Vanti," he says, and his voice is rough. "This is… I don't know what to say. You didn't have to?—"
"I wanted to." The words come out simpler than I intended, more honest. "You give me things, Cody. Books and conversation and kindness. You wait for me outside therapyeven though you think I don't notice. You look at me like—" I stop myself, unsure how to finish that sentence.
"Like what?" he asks.
Like I matter. Like I'm not broken. Like you see something in me worth waiting for.
"Like a friend would," I finish instead. It's a coward's answer.
But Cody doesn't push. He closes his fingers around the carving and holds it pressed to his chest, over his heart.
"Thank you," he says. "Really. This means more than you know."
We stand there in the quiet corridor, the weight of tomorrow hanging between us. There is so much ahead. The journey. The ruined world waiting to be rebuilt. All the uncertainty that comes with returning to a place that was once home.
But for this moment, none of that matters.
For this moment, there's only Cody's smile and the bird in his hands and the strange, terrifying warmth spreading through my chest.
CHAPTER 5
