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“—but they should reach the village soon. And once there, they’ll have a better sense of how deep Malakar’s influence and corruption have bred there. They are . . . hopeful that after what happened in Daeglen, there is much they will be able to uncover.”
Tenny sighed. “I wish I could be there. Wish I could do more—do anything.”
“You are doing something,” Ollie said firmly. “Imagine the state Kingshelm would be in without you. Would King Callum even be able to entertain discussions of what to do about the Cult of Malakar? Would there be any chance of him sending his forces to the Midlands, to try to reclaim Castle Lumin?”
“I have nothing to do with any of that.”
“Is this unnecessary modesty a common human trait, or is it something unique to you?”
Tenny rolled her eyes. “I’m just being factual.”
“Portentia Church. Imagine, for a second, you are but an average citizen of Kingshelm. Your city has been ripped apart, friend turning on friend, one of the most esteemed members of the court revealed to be a dirty, dastardly, mutinous traitor—sorry—and both king and council in ruins. Mana has run scarce, and chaos and confusion fill every new day.”
“I don’t have to imagine very hard, Ollie. That is exactly what it was like in those early days after the attack.”
“Exactly. But imagine you hadn’t been there to help pick up the pieces afterward. The people of this city know you. They trust you. And they have watched you throw yourself into rebuilding even the smallest sense of normalcy for weeks and weeks and weeks. Your contributions have not gone unnoticed.”
Tenny blinked up at the sky, fighting the prickle of tears.
Ollie rested an arm around her shoulders. She leaned in, grateful.
“I just want to fix the things he broke,” she whispered. “I want to make Kingshelm better than he ever did. And I want—”
She stopped.
Ollie raised a brow. “You want . . . ?”
Tenny shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”
A beat of silence passed between them, and Tenny busied herself reading through the rest of the messages Ollie had brought: A grain report from the head of the farmer’s guild. A bill from Master Llewis that she would be more than happy to pass on to Barcroff. And finally, a note from Jocelyn confirming her journey to the Midlands had gotten her at least as far as Dawnspire, though aside from stopping long enough to send the missive, she wouldn’t be lingering there—for obvious reasons. She was probably due to arrive in Elderglade any minute, in fact.
“Was there anything else?” Tenny asked. “Any other letters?”
Ollie hesitated.
Her stomach sank. “Just say it.”
He exhaled. “No word from Nox or Thraigg yet.”
She gripped the railing so hard, her knuckles ached. “But they should have arrived in Elderglade from the Sacred Mountain by now.”
“I know.” Ollie’s voice softened. “But there could be a hundred different reasons why we haven’t heard that they have. Besides, Nox can’t technically get into Elderglade anyway, right? So there’s no rush on their part.” The breezy way he said it told Tenny the fae was trying to lighten her mood, to counteract the way he must have heard her heartbeat pick up.
These fae and their heightened senses, I swear to the Five, she thought. And then, because she didn’t want Ollie’s pity, nor did she want to think any deeper about why she cared so much that it had been so long since she’d heard from Nox, she said, “I’m just sick of being stuck here.”
Ollie shrugged. “So, let’s go somewhere else, then.”
Tenny blinked at him. “You just went on and on about how important I was to this city, how much it mattered that I’d chosen to stay.”
“Yes, well, that was before. They did need you then. They need you less now.”
“Where would we even go?”
Ollie grinned.
Tenny loosed an exasperated sigh. “What reason do the two of us have to visit Kinsgaith, Oleander?”
“You read Tristan’s earlier letter,” Ollie said with a shrug. “Rumors are that the Chasm has been slowly expanding. Kinsgaith is right on the edge. Would it not make sense for you to extend your humanitarian efforts to the citizens of Havensreach most in need of aid?”
