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Once the tram arrived, Merrik worked his way into a seat near the back where there was enough open space for himself and all his gear. Dacha took the seat across the aisle, wedging the folded wheelchair in the aisle between them.

Merrik took in the gap between the tram and the platform and the narrowness of the aisle between the seats. The tram would be nigh impossible to take on days or evenings when his legs hurt too much and he needed to use the wheelchair.

He’d never had to think of such things before. Now, every step, every tight space, had him calculating his ability to navigate them.

A tightness caught in his chest, and a part of him wanted to hop off that tram and take the first train back to Estyra. Back to a space where he knew he could get around as he wished. Here in Fort Defense, he was in a place that wasn’t accommodated for him. He could find himself barred from certain areas, depending on how his legs held up.

As the tram crested the bluff and neared the upper platform, Merrik peered out the window. He sat on the left side of the tram, giving him a view of the headquarters section of Fort Defense. Four long buildings—the hospital, elven officer quarters, troll officer quarters, and human officer quarters—formed a square around the central building, which was the hub of all planning and operations here at Fort Defense.

The tram shuddered to a screechy halt. Merrik didn’t try to join the rush for the doors but took his time climbing to his feet and gathering his things.

After picking up the wheelchair and the larger bag, Dacha led the way from the tram and onto the platform.

As he followed, Merrik drew in a deep breath and took in the familiar aerodrome here at Fort Defense. A gravel road stretched across the land beside the platform, and beyond that, snug tents perched on platforms and nestled within a stand of trees that protected them from the elements.

Beyond the tents stood the massive metal nested hangar with its curved roofs and connected bays for housing the three squadrons of aeroplanes stationed there.

Home. At least, home at Fort Defense.

To one side of the platform, a figure with short red hair and an olive-green uniform matching his own rocked back and forth from his toes to his heels, his nervous energy visible even from that distance.

Fieran.

Merrik turned away, his stomach churning. He’d been rehearsing what he’d say to Fieran during the entire train ride from Estyra to Fort Defense, and yet he still wasn’t quite ready to face his best friend just yet.

Dacha set down the wheelchair and bag, his gaze briefly flicking to where Fieran stood. “He asked after you.”

Of course he had. That much had been clear from his letters.

Dacha clasped Merrik’s shoulders in another elven hug. “You are still brothers, sason. You will work things out between you.”

Merrik forced a nod, tension tightening his back and twisting in his chest. It was time to face Fieran and finally put to rest all the roil of resentment that had been left unresolved all these weeks and restore the brotherhood they’d once shared.

With another glance at Fieran, Dacha released his grip on Merrik’s shoulders, turned, and strode from the platform in the direction of headquarters, likely to return to Uncle Farrendel’s side.

Taking a deep breath, Merrik faced Fieran. Fieran hesitated for another moment before he strolled forward and hopped onto the platform with ease, bypassing the stairs entirely.

When he halted before him, Merrik tucked the staff beneath his arm to cross his arms, waiting. If he waited long enough, Fieran was guaranteed to speak first.

Fieran opened his mouth, then hesitated. His mouth worked for a moment before he spoke in a rush. “I hope your train ride was good. Everyone is excited to have you back. Do you need anything? Can I carry something?”

It was so Fieran. All breathless energy and cheerful optimism.

Merrik tried to work through all the thoughts and feelings churning inside him. While Fieran had spent the past weeks pouring everything out into the letters he’d sent Merrik, Merrik had weeks of built-up words. He couldn’t seem to sort out what he should say first.

When he opened his mouth, what popped out was the last thing he’d intended to say. “I kissed your sister.”

Well, that wasn’t how he’d hoped to break that news to Fieran. He’d planned to resolve the tension of his resentment, and only then bring up Adry. He’d thought he’d wait until after he’d talked to Uncle Farrendel in the morning.

But perhaps this was for the best. Fieran’s reaction would determine how the rest of this conversation went. If Fieran reacted badly, then salvaging their friendship would be that much more difficult.

Fieran’s face went entirely blank for a moment, as if the words had shocked him into utter incomprehension.

Then he gave a forced grin and even more forced laugh. “Ha, ha. Very funny.”

That ember flared to life in Merrik’s chest, and he gritted his teeth. What was so funny about him and Adry together? They’d liked each other for years. “I would not joke about something like that.”

Fieran’s eyes widened. He spun away, his hand digging into his hair while his shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. When he spun back, his eyes remained wide. “You…and Adry.”