A familiar grin eased the worry on his face, and his eyes flickered—tentatively, hopefully.
“A soldier broke it when I was seven or eight,” he said. “He’d been aiming for my teeth, but was so drunk he missed. Said my smile was too smug for someone my age.”
The ice around my heart thawed, and I wound my arms over his shoulders. “Edan. You found me.”
Relief bloomed in his eyes, and his shoulders, which had carried all the tension in the world, released. “I’d find you anywhere,xitara.”
Xitara.
In Old A’landan, it meantlittle lamb.But also something else—in a language I’d never learned.
“Brightest one,” I whispered.Brightest one,in Nelrat, the language Edan had grown up speaking.
He leaned in to kiss me, but I put my hand against his chest to make him wait. I wanted to look at him first. His chin was stubbly with little black hairs, something I’d never seen during our months of traveling together. He did the same to me, thumbing the dirt off my cheeks, his fingers following the lines of my cheekbones to my shoulders, to the chain that held my amulet.
A war broke out on his face, like he didn’t know whether he was happy to see me or pained by the state he’d found me in. Happiness won out, and he kissed me.
I placed his hand on my cheek. His fingers were warm in spite of the chill.
“I’m not sorry I lied to you,” I said. “You wouldn’t have left otherwise. The emperor would have killed you—”
“I know why you did it,” he interrupted. “I’ve had time to think about it, and I understand.” He took my hands. “Just don’t do it again.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.” His fingers brushed across my cheek to my chin, lifting it so our eyes were level. If the coldness of my skin startled him, he did not show it.
He kissed me, so tenderly that all the love I had for him flooded back into me. I returned the kiss, hungrily, almost desperately, parting his lips with my own and digging my fingers into his back. Bringing him closer.
Edan let go first. “There’ll be more time for that later,” he said mischievously.
The crooked grin on his lips faded when he saw I wasn’t returning his smile.
There was so much still unspoken between us.
“I’ve been looking for you for days,” he said. “Wandered off the Tura Mountains, then a hawk said it had seen you.”
I tilted my head. “You can still speak to hawks?”
“After centuries of being one, I still understand a squawk or two.”
I couldn’t tell whether he was being serious or playful. Or both.
I pointed at the staff he’d dropped. Edan had told me once that walnut had magical properties, so I knew it had to be special. “What’s that for? I’ve never seen you carry it.”
“It’s to help channel my magic,” he replied, picking it up. “Makes enchantments a little easier these days.”
A wooden hawk, roughly whittled, perched on the top end of the staff. Fitting.
“Come,” he said. “We’re not too far from the temple. We should go before more of the soldiers come looking for you. And for me.”
He must have seen me tense up, for he added, lightly, “If we hurry, we might make it back in time for dinner. For a temple that’s been forgotten for centuries, the food is quite outstanding.”
His stomach rumbled, not mine. I laughed quietly at the sound, but still I hesitated. “Why does everyone try to ply me with food? You and Master Longhai and Ammi…”
“The Maia I know never passes up good food.”
Concern crept into his voice, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
