Page 135 of Burn of the Everflame

I dissolved my shield, and Runa ran to me, wrapping me in a crushing hug. The color in her skin and the curves of her hips had blossomed since I’d freed her group of Guardians from the Fortos prison. Over her shoulder, I caught Luther clasping forearms with a green-eyed Descended I almost didn’t recognize as Enness, the emaciated inmate whose mangled legs and broken spirit I would never, ever forget.

“Your mother and I have been exchanging hawks,” Runa explained. “She told us to gather everyone we could to join your army.”

Enness nodded. “When we got word that you’d be in Fortos, it felt like a sign from the Blessed Kindred⁠—”

“The Old Gods,” Runa said, wrinkling her nose.

“—right, them, too. We were always going to join you, we just needed, uh . . . a little time to ourselves.” He grinned and tugged her closer, and her cheeks flushed as they exchanged a knowing look. My heart skipped in recognition: Runa and Enness were in love.

“We kept our word and stuck together until everyone got home safely,” Runa said, nodding toward their group. “Somewhere along the way, we all got to be friends. Your mother said the Descended were welcome to join us—I hope that’s okay.”

I struggled to respond, speechless at how the people I once had to beg to work together were now allies, friends, even lovers.

“We’re glad to see it,” Luther answered for me. “Come, we’ll take you to Auralie. She was hoping you’d make it.”

I’d been so focused on what might happen when the attack arrived, I’d failed to consider what might happen if it didn’t. As the hours passed, the army soldiers grew restless. They wandered out of their hiding spots, casting me annoyed looks as they mingled in the streets. It was bad enough that I’d welcomed the prisoners they’d once guarded. If I’d turned their city upside down for nothing, my already fragile leadership in Fortos would take a critical blow.

While Runa and Enness caught up with my mother, I paced through the city, trying my best to ignore Luther as he matched every step. I’d been moved to learn that he’d helped my mother arrange their arrival, then annoyed that neither had told me—not that I could blame them, since I’d been avoiding them both.

With the storm clouds thickening and the sky growing dark, Luther pointed out a watchtower, suggesting it might give us a better view of the city. We were greeted at its top by a trio of unhappy-looking Descended soldiers, who sluggishly saluted me between yawns.

“Why don’t you three take a break,” Luther told them. “Her Majesty and I can keep watch for a while.”

The soldiers looked to me for confirmation.

Suddenly, I doubted that Luther had wanted to come here for the view. “This is an important post,” I said quickly, “maybe they should st⁠—”

“How long have you been here?” Luther asked them.

“Since nightfall,” one answered.

I balked. “Do you mean nightfall yesterday?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Our replacements were sent to escort the mortals you brought instead. We were ordered to stay here.” The soldier beside him stifled another yawn, the third struggling to keep his eyes open.

Luther smirked, his triumph barely suppressed. Their exhaustion made them useless as lookouts. I had to let them go, and he knew it.

“Find my High General, Alixe. Tell her the tower needs reinforcements.” I swallowed. “Hurry.”

The moment they were gone, Luther’s posture changed. The tension unwound from his muscles, and his shoulders eased into a casual slope. He untied the leather cord binding his hair and roughly ran a hand through it, then leaned against the door to the stairwell. He propped up a leg, dipping his chin in a way that goaded me: ignore me now.

No one ever saw him like this. No one but me. When anyone else came around, he had some uniform to wear: the protective brother, the older and wiser friend. I doubted he was even conscious of the subtle shifts in his face, his stance, his language, each adapted to transform him into whatever others needed him to be.

Lately, he’d started doing it with me, too. For me, he crafted an image of unwavering strength, tucking away his own fears and frustrations, dedicating every moment to attending to mine—and it broke my heart.

“You look like you’re considering jumping off this tower to get away,” he said.

“If I jump, then you’ll jump,” I joked half-heartedly. “Alixe has enough to do without cleaning up that mess.”

“No, Diem. If you jump, I’ll fly. I’ll never let you fall.”

In the storm-darkened horizon, a splinter of lightning danced through the clouds. I walked to the stone railing and scanned the miles of empty, crackled flatlands. “What if this was a trick? Vance could be attacking Lumnos right now.”

“Taran and Zalaric are there. They’ll send messenger hawks if there’s any sign of trouble.”

“What good is a hawk? The whole realm would be dead by the time we return.”

My fingers drummed against Sorrow’s Edge, my thoughts on the gemstone embedded in its blade. The Kindred used the heartstone to travel worlds and curse souls. Could I use it to get a glimpse of my home realm? If I did, would it steal my vision to pay the cost?