“The Kleesolds are patched up, ready to head back to our post.” The camp had already been packed up, the soldiers of the River Brigades long gone.
She’d spent the morning meeting with the River Brigade majors and Pyetar, hashing out the details, and had left Pyetar to finalize the contract with them while she checked on the camp again. Now she was back to collect.
Iryana took a few steps into the room, trailing her fingers along the edge of the table. Remembering. “I have to go with the First to meet the duchess.”
“I have the contracts ready.” Pyetar grabbed the stack of papers sitting on the edge of the desk and brought them over to her. “Jesha and Nenad already signed them too.”
Iryana glanced at the pages, at the contract that settled the new arrangements between the Dovaki Post, the 18th Brigade, and the River Brigades. It was more generous than she could have expected. The duchess would never be able to give up the Dovaki Post, not while the contract was upheld.
Pyetar pushed an inkwell across the table toward her and handed her a pen. Iryana took it with trembling fingers.
Nothing felt real anymore, like it was a dream. But Iryana went through the motions, scrawling her name on each of the contracts on behalf of the Guardians of Klees.
“How are you?” His voice was soft, his brow tugging down over his eyes.
Iryana looked up, into the warm depths of his eyes.
“I am so relieved to have my family back.” She smiled, a bit strained. “And nervous about my grandmother’s training.”
Pyetar nodded, understanding. “And the water magic, is it—are you recovering from the forging?”
She could feel the two parts of her magic roiling inside her, fighting against settling down together. “I am still healing. And it’s easier when I don’t use it for a while.”
“You took to your metal-forging well, but I have seen some that take weeks for the magic to really settle inside them. Being double-forged is no doubt harder for your body to handle. It will take time.” But he was frowning, worry clear on his face.
“I have that now, I suppose. Time.”
Iryana neatened the stack of papers now that the ink was dry and rolled them, slipping them into the leather scroll case Pyetar offered. His touch lingered when he pressed the case into her hands.
“The First and I will travel straight to the duchess.” It would take over a week, maybe longer depending on how involved the negotiations were. They should be able to return before winter was upon them.
The thought of leaving the fort was unsettling, like she was moving away from her home. She would come back though. The agreement with them ensured she’d have to from time to time, but it would never be her home again.
Pyetar closed some of the distance between them, leaning against the table.
“I have to get this place under control.”
“I know.” She took a deep breath. “I should head out.”
The longer she lingered, the harder it would be.
“After everything we’ve accomplished, it feels likewe’reback where we started.” His voice was mournful, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.
Iryana leaned into the warmth of his hand, and a small smile crept across her face. “I don’t hate you anymore, though.”
“There is that.” Pyetar chuckled and dragged her toward him.
She met him, kissing him softly. The feel of his fingers tracing her face made her eyes burn. Her body was buzzing, not in the way it normally did with him, but like her skin couldn’t decide if it was in pain or not. She didn’t want to leave him. It wasn’t just the fort that it hurt to leave behind. Over the past months, Pyetar had been her home, even if she hadn’t realized it.
“Goodbye, Iryana,” he said against her mouth. It tasted like heartbreak.
There was a village far below Lake Vrasho, tucked into the cliffs that housed the waterfalls and rope systems used for bringing supplies high into the peaks. The village was small, mostly farms and a midway point for those traveling around the settlement.
The breeze was chilly that morning, blowing up the slopes of the mountain and ruffling the warm headscarf that was wrapped around Iryana’s head.
Iryana leaned her head back, her gaze following the waterfalls cascading down each layered ridge. One day she would see Lake Vrasho and the rows of cliff houses and tiered fields of tubers that encircled the lake. She might even be allowed to see the air temple, given that she was a guardian-family heir. The Air Elementi of the conclave lived up there, tucked safely away from the dakii that ravaged outside the barriers of the settlement.
The Duchess Vrinikolda Zrinski had responded to the message they had sent, saying she would meet them in the base village. It was a tremendous effort to get anyone that wasn’t air-forged to Lake Vrasho, and apparently this situation didn’t call for the effort.
