Chapter 7
Atlas
––––––––
Pounding on the windowhas me jumping out of my skin, palming the knife from the end table and rolling out of bed. I’m halfway across the room before Lucien’s feet hit the floor, since he was passed out on the opposite side of the bed, drained from training all day.
Unlatching the second story window and shoving it open, I narrow my eyes on the man hovering outside, his wings flitting a mile a minute to keep him in place. I brace myself for Achlys’ decision, her dismissal, and try to school my features into indifference. But after nearly a week of silence, I’m not expecting anything; never was, to be honest.
Luce stands beside me, clenching his fist before slipping his hands into his pockets, struggling so damn hard to maintain the apathy he’s spent a lifetime clinging to. These past few days of forcing him to eat so he can heal quicker and helping him adapt to the onslaught have been more exhausting than actually exercising.
“They’re back.” Two words and they hit like a punch to the stomach and steal the breath from my lungs.
Luce finds his voice first. “Where?”
The man gestures in the same direction that we entered the village from and the two of us are tearing down the stairs in an instant, not bothering to waste time putting our shoes on. The messenger flies off ahead, leaving only the sound of our feet pounding the dirt to keep us company.
True night, as they call it, settles around us, leaving the streets relatively abandoned as people sleep, save a few insomniacs or workers. But the buzz spreads quickly and people start to stir, peering out of their homes. I ignore all of them, the muscles in my thigh twinging. Most of our injuries are in good shape at this point, and I think we have our connection to Cambria and Luce to thank for that, our healing more accelerated than normal now that we’re on Faerie. Save for some bruising, angry scars, and lingering pain where we took the worst damage, most of the exhaustion is mental.
Dorian and Cambria are surrounded by people, the conquering heroes returned at last. My steps come slower until I stop completely. Lucien forges a path straight through the fae, and they flinch back as if they can feel power rolling off of him, like a barely caged beast. They don’t even have tolook;they step to the side, backs still to us, like they know he’s there and will gladly go through them if they stand in the way.
Cambria and Dorian are coated in ashen dust and debris, their traveling cloaks nearly white at first glance, before a second look shows the thinner patches of dirt revealing the dark colors beneath. Orange stains their hair, and all they need are a couple pairs of glasses and fake moustaches for the world’s worst disguises. How anyone could glance at her and not justknowthat she’s more, that she’s everything, is beyond me.
Lucien pulls her into a crushing embrace as she yips, but sighs in relief. He claps a hand to Dorian’s shoulder, scanning him from head to toe, and some of the rigidness in his shoulders ebbs. He’s been wound tight enough lately that I thought he might actually snap, so many foreign emotions assaulting him relentlessly and not knowing how to manage them. But like everything else, Cambria’s very presence is the key, a balm to weather the worst storm.
They could all get along without me just fine.
As she pulls away from Luce, her eyes instantly find mine despite the crowd, like they did that day in the club. Her brow furrows, giving me a silent question that I just...don’t know how to answer. They’re safe. Home. And yet everything feels wrong.
But I force a smile on my face for her sake, because Iamrelieved they’re here. I’m just also sad for me, but know I need to get past my pity party.
One foot in front of the other, I push myself closer, but when I throw an arm around her back to press her against me in a quick hug, it lasts longer than I originally intended. Closing my eyes, I rest my cheek on top of her head, shutting the rest of the world out for just a moment. A small little blip of time that I can pretend everything’s okay.
“You’re alright?”
“Hungry, but yeah.” Her voice takes on a teasing lilt. “You’d think that Dorian hasn’t eaten in months with the way he’s been complaining.”
His retort is instantaneous. “Not all of us can live off of wine and a single piece of gum for a week.”
I can feel her smile against my collar. “Not my fault I started my endurance training while you were lazing around.”
