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Elyria had so many questions. Cedric had made it sound like Sid’s size was tied to Elyria’s waning power, but here she was, her magic restored—prospering, even. Could the shadowcat grow and shrink at will? She certainly seemed content enough at her current size—she’d almost been too big to fit in the council room when they first arrived. Or was this the effect of Elderglade’s protections at play?

Kit was still staring at Sid, as though doing so might unlock some new information about where Tenebris Nox had gone, why the nocterrian had chosen to deliver Elyria’s wings but not come themself. The crown half, it would seem, was still locked away wherever they kept it hidden in the in-between.

“This is exactly what I was afraid of,” Cedric was saying to Young Shep, with whom he’d been conversing for several minutes now.

“It could be an exception. Just as Elyria herself is an exception. Sid is an extension of her, after all, so⁠—”

Cedric shook his head. “I fear this is only the latest in proving my theory.”

“Your bond extended some of your power to Elyria, giving her just enough of your light to be accepted by this place. So, too, must your bond extend to the shadowcat. But just because Elderglade made allowances for the two of them doesn’t mean it will do so for all shadow-touched.”

Elyria’s gaze flicked between Cedric and Shep. Unfortunately, as unsettling as the idea was, she agreed with her solimaeus. “If you hear hoofbeats, you think horses, not unicorns, Shep.”

Shep scoffed. “Unicorns have not been seen in Arcanis since before⁠—”

“So not the point she was trying to make,” said Kit with a roll of her eyes.

“And somehow, also, exactly the point,” continued Cedric. “You all would rather think this to be some grand exception to the rules governing the sanctuary than consider that the rules may no longer be in place at all.”

“Elderglade has stood for centuries, dear boy.” Elder Larkess’s voice cut across the room, immediately quieting the chatter. The entire group had still been here when Cedric and Elyria returned with Sid—and her wings—in tow. Had simply been waiting for her to return, as though they hadn’t had any doubt she would. And that had been both supremely touching and mildly insulting, both for reasons that Elyria didn’t quite fully grasp.

“Ye can’t continue to rely on protections established eons ago by celestials who no longer have any dog in this fight, Lark.” Thraigg gave Elder Larkess’s arm a gentle squeeze.

“This is also exactly why I didn’t want us to bother waiting around for my wings, to try to repair me, when it’s clear there are far more important things at stake,” Elyria said stubbornly.

“But your wings are here now, Ellie,” said Kit, the annoying voice of reason, and the knowing feeling vibrating across the bond from Cedric only served to irritate Elyria more.

Of course she was going to undergo the procedure. Of course she was going to try. Her tragically beautiful wings were right fucking there, staring at her from the stars-damned table before her. It was like her back was tingling with the very knowledge they were close. And more than once, Elyria would’ve sworn she saw her wings twitch on the table, as if they knew it too.

But it had to be a trick of the light—a hallucination. The result of the leaflight flowing from the canopy overhead and dancing with the beautiful fractals of Kit’s everfrost.

“What happens now?” Elyria asked.

“We should station patrols at the entrance,” said Cedric. “We need to be proactive about protecting this place, especially if it’s going to take Elle several days to recover from the procedure.”

Larkess huffed out a tired laugh. “Elderglade is in the business of teaching, of building up those who would heal the world, dear boy, not those who work to cut it down. Guards and soldiers are in short supply here, I’m afraid.”

“It is not cutting down; it is protecting,” Cedric said sharply.

That’s not actually what I meant, Elyria wanted to say. She’d meant “What happens now?” in terms of her wings—reattaching them, healing them. But she wasn’t about to interrupt. She knew Cedric would never say it, that he probably wasn’t even thinking it, but she couldn’t help but feel nonetheless that all of this was her fault to begin with. If the magic protecting this place was faltering, if it was leaving the sanctuary open to attack, then surely it was because it had accepted her in the first place.

“Then we’ll do it,” Cedric said, looking at Thraigg, Jocelyn, Shep, and Kit in turn.

“O’ course, Ric,” said Thraigg.

Kit and Shep nodded simultaneously.

“Whatever we can do,” said Jocelyn.

Elyria slipped her hand into Cedric’s. “We will do everything we can to protect this place.” She left her final thought unsaid. Even if that means leaving it.

But in order to do that, she needed to get on with this wing business as soon as possible. She refused to dwell on all the heart-wrenching what-ifs any longer: What if it didn’t work? What if it took too long? What if she was getting her hopes up for nothing?

Elyria turned to Elder Larkess, still firmly clinging to Cedric’s hand, and said, “All right, then. I’ll try.”

25

THINKING OUT LOUD