I walked with him to the edge of the clearing, far enough that our voices wouldn’t carry, but close enough that it didn’t look like retreat.
“Some of the mortals are going to leave.” I felt frustrated. We were so close. But I wouldn’t trade away Lightbringer’s freedom for the chance to please the crowd.
“Some of them.” He was looking at the crowd, not at me. Reading them, doing the rapid inventory he brought to every room. “Not all.”
I hated that I didn’t know what to do and he did, but the rebellion mattered more than my feelings. “What do I do, Fear?”
He was quiet for a moment, clearly spinning through plans. “Is your only value in bringing Lightbringer into the world?”
I wasn’t sure what he wanted. “No?”
“Don’t overwhelm us with your confidence.” His sarcasm was tinged with exasperation. “You’re brave and fierce. As a mortal. You would do anything to protect your family and free your people.”
He nodded out at the crowd. “So will they. Show them you’re alike.”
“That’s your story, not mine. You’re the one who has been building this ridiculous myth since Stonehaven. Me and the shovel?—”
“That happened.” He cut in. “Do the people need a myth? Yes. They needyou.”
“They need Lightbringer.”
And Lightbringer was the most difficult dragon in centuries and refused to touch claw to earth or wing to sky. She’d curled up again in my mind, silent and distant and maddening.
“And if Lightbringer always refuses you, you’re going to do…what? Give up and go home to Stonehaven?” He delivered those words, then waited patiently for me to catch up.
That was what I had said I wanted all this time. To return to Stonehaven with Tay and Lidi and my mother.
It was not what I wanted anymore. I had understood that on the overlook, too late. I exhaled. “No. I can’t go home again.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“I can’t go home after what I’ve seen. I’m here to fight.”
Fear smiled. “That’s my girl.”
There was an audience for that smile. He might or might not mean it. But he was right.
“Thank you.”
When I went back to Bismyth, Tay was standing at the edge of the gathered mortals with his arms folded and his chin up, and he was looking at me with the expression I had seen him wear since we were small when I was afraid.I know you can do this.
Tay believed in me the way he always had, unconditionally, even now, even after everything. I held onto that.
It seemed as if all the camp’s children had arrived now. Lidi stood with a small knot of her friends on one side and Rees at the other. Flowers were woven messily through all of their hair, and even Rees was adorned with a wreath around his neck, which he seemed to be taking with remarkable good humor. The flowers were not as beautifully woven together as she once had with magic, but she was finding a way.
The adults behind them were restless, but it was one of the little boys who was pushed forward by his friends, like a sacrifice. He looked back at them, then shouted, “Can you shift into a dragon?”
“No,” I admitted, and felt the last of their hope turn in the way they moved impatiently.
My mouth felt dry. I didn’t want to step forward and say another word to this disappointed crowd.
Kiegan moved to stand at my shoulder. He said nothing, just stood behind me, the clan’s presence made physical.
I had to speak. I began and hoped I’d be surprised by my wisdom, for once in my life.
“You came because a mortal who carries the dragon mark means we mortals can be powerful. The queen tells us we are powerless without the Fae. Without the dragons. Without their magic.”
My voice had grown stronger as I spoke. Louder. “It’s a lie.”
