Burn of the Everflame — Chapter 35

35

LUTHER

or once, I was grateful Diem’s return was delayed and for the extra timeF it allowed. When Tybold finally touched down on Lumnos soil, the sky was dark, and I was waiting on the lawn, Sorae pacing eagerly beside me.

The urge to pull Diem off Tybold’s back and into my arms lured me to my feet, but his pointed glare kept me where I stood.

Diem eyed me warily as she and Alixe dismounted. “Any news?”

“Nothing to report,” I said. “How was Faunos?”

She and Alixe shared a look.

“They are . . . resistant to Her Majesty’s vision,” Alixe said. “They’ve stopped executing mortals who leave the Ring Road—”

“So they claim,” Diem muttered.

“—but there are still none in their cities. Their Mortal City remains vacant, as well.”

“Perhaps the mortals fear returning to a place where the animals can be ordered to do the Descended’s killing.”

Alixe nodded. “That’s our suspicion. Her Majesty issued a command to all creatures in the realm to do no harm to any mortal.”

“It won’t last,” Diem said darkly. “Not unless I can spare trips back to Faunos each time the magic wears off.”

I frowned. “Did you find a Regent you can trust?”

Diem mumbled something, massaging her temples.

Alixe pursed her lips. “Meetings were not as productive as we’d hoped.

The Faunos Descended are—”

“Animals,” Diem snapped. “No, actually, animals are better behaved.”

“They don’t have a great respect for titles,” Alixe explained. “Past Crowns did not bother choosing a Regent. They expected that, in their absence, the strongest would naturally emerge to lead.”

Sorae let out an impatient snort, and Diem stalked toward her and held up her arms. The gryvern’s muzzle twitched furiously as she sniffed every inch, the slits of her eyes swelling and thinning with each new scent she caught.

“They don’t even let up for the Crown,” Diem said crossly. “It’s a wonder Ailani kept her throne so long. I had four attempts on my life the first day alone.”

Sorae froze, and so did I. The emotion spiking inside her was a pair to mine, a flashfire of fury that our Queen had been in danger and we’d been stuck half a continent away.

“Calm down, both of you,” Diem chided. “I’m fine.”

She didn’t look fine. Her face was shadowed, her muscles coiled. Dark circles ringed her eyes, and weariness dragged on her bones, even as her body seemed ready to fight at a moment’s call. She looked furious and exhausted and jumpy and miserable to the core.

“May I speak with you?” I asked. “Alone?”

It wrecked me to see her reaction—her stiffening spine, her clamping jaw. The days when I had been her escape from the world’s troubles seemed so far away.

“It won’t take long,” I assured her. “There’s something I want to show you in camp.”

Her throat worked. She gave Alixe a parting nod and Sorae a slow stroke down her snout. When she tried to pull away, Sorae nipped at her sleeve with a plaintive whimper.

Diem frowned. “That’s not true, Sorae. I’m not upset with you.”

Sorae tossed her head at Tybold and snorted out a cloud of curling black smoke and sapphire embers.

“I need you here protecting Lumnos,” Diem insisted. “He doesn’t care for this place as you and I do.”

Tybold’s throat vibrated with a rumbling growl that said he did not disagree.

Sorae lowered her head until the gold of her eyes shone right into Diem’s grey. A curious silence passed between them until Diem tensed and looked away.

“It’s not about that, either,” she murmured.

Sorae’s jaws gave a disbelieving snap.

“Wherever I go next, I’ll take you with me. I promise.” She pressed a kiss to Sorae’s scales, and the gryvern relented with a purr—but as Diem turned to leave, Sorae shoved her muzzle into Diem’s back, sending her stumbling into me.

I moved without thinking and grabbed her before she fell. Like a flower curving its stem toward the light, my hands instinctively found their way to her skin, one clinging to her arm, the other perfectly placed on the sliver of bare torso between her tunic and pants.

She sucked in a breath at the touch, and I waited with apprehension for

her to jerk away.

Instead . . . she lingered.

Not very long—a few seconds, at most, before she steadied her feet and gently eased out of reach—but long enough that we both knew it was no

accident.

Long enough to rekindle my hope.

Sorae almost seemed to snicker as she sauntered away. She passed in front of Tybold, and he took a step forward and arched his wings. Her head snapped sharply toward him, a line of fur prickling on her back. He did not cower or retreat, but neither did he provoke her. He held his head high, and he waited.

“Come on, girl,” Diem whispered to herself. “Give him another chance.”

But gryverns were as stubborn a creature ever made. Once scorned, their grudges could fester for lifetimes. Sorae fled to her perch, leaving Tybold snarling as he stomped away.

Diem looked crestfallen. “After all that time apart, they’re finally reunited. Why won’t they get past whatever this is and be together?”

Holding my tongue was a gargantuan task.

“Have you thought about where you’ll go next?” I asked instead.

“Omnos, maybe.”

“Again?”

She thumbed the empty scabbard at her hip. She hadn’t told anyone what had happened to the sword the Kindred had given her, but when she vanished for a trip alone to the Forgotten Lands shortly after Fortos, I

pieced the truth together. She’d returned with no sword and bad news: there was no sign of Ophiucae or his men, and their camp had been abandoned.

“Omnos is his realm,” she said. “I don’t think he’ll stay away from it for long.” She looked up at me. “Mother’s source still hasn’t told us where they went?”

I shook my head. “They must worry they’re close to being caught. She says their messages are getting vaguer and harder to decipher.” I paused.

“May I suggest you go somewhere else?”

That caught her attention. “Where?”

“Umbros. Zalaric has been exchanging hawks with the half-mortals there. They’re still too afraid to return to Lumnos. He thinks they need to hear from you directly.”

She stared at her feet. “Umbros,” she repeated.

“Zalaric wanted you to visit weeks ago, and I told him not to ask. I thought I could fix the problem on my own.” Another failure, I thought.

“That was a mistake. I shouldn’t have kept you away.”

“You didn’t,” she said softly. Guiltily. “I’ve been avoiding it on my own. Yrselle said some things to me there . . . and again, on the island . . .”

Her gaze slowly lifted to the palace, to the terrace connected to her suite.

Something flickered over her features. “Use my key,” she whispered.

“What key?” I asked.

“Oh, uh—nothing.” She nodded. “I’ll leave for Umbros tomorrow.”

My heart sank. She’d only just returned. “If you need a few days to rest—”

“I’ll be fine.” She abruptly began walking toward camp. “Is that all?”

I jogged to catch up. “I’d like your blessing to visit the Unhoused Descended. I’m supposed to represent the half-mortals on the council, and I hear there may be some living in hiding there. I should go meet them.”

“You don’t need my permission for that.”

“No, but . . . that’s not the only reason I’m going. I’d like their support

for my bid to be Chief of Council.”

She stopped again, eyes fixed ahead.

“I’ve been thinking,” I went on, “it would be better if someone other than you stepped up to lead the governing council. Someone who is aligned with your vision but has more time to handle the demands.” I paused, awaiting her reaction, but she only stared ahead and blinked. “I have good relationships with the Twenty Houses. And I’m building my rapport with

the mortals—your mother, of course, and just today, I spoke with Henri’s father.”

I’d spoken with Henri, too . . . that was a conversation for later.

“I’ll only do it with your support,” I said. “I will not tolerate any speculation that I’m trying to take your place.”

My apprehension rose at her guarded expression. Did she see this as a betrayal? A punishment, for pushing me away?

“Diem, if you don’t want—”

“You’re absolutely right.” Her voice was hoarse. “Someone else should run the council. Someone who can lead them if . . .” She trailed off. “You’re the perfect choice.”

There was so much more I wanted to say. I wanted to explain how I’d spent all afternoon reflecting. I wanted to share my decisions and my plans, all the changes I knew the council could enact, the suffering we could put to an end. I was excited and nervous, two emotions I rarely felt. For the first time since Sophos, I had a vision for the future that left me inspired.

And I wanted to tell her. Before she’d been my lover, before she’d even been my Queen, she had become the one person I could be myself with. As much as I missed touching her, kissing her, fucking her, loving her—it was her friendship I missed most.

But right now, I was not the friend she needed.

As we entered the camp, she aimed for her tent, and I slid a palm to her back and nudged her down a different path. She threw me a suspicious look, and I forced myself to withdraw my hand and flash a reassuring smile.

“Diem Bellator,” a voice called out. “What kind of trouble are you gonna get me in now?”

Diem’s head turned to the source of the voice, and a bright smile dawned across her face. “Brecke?”

She took off running toward a man with a thick beard and crinkling eyes outside a nearby tent. He looked surprised, but pleased, when she bowled into him, threw her arms around his neck, and laughed.

She laughed. A real, true laugh. No hint of bitterness, simply genuine joy.

Gods, the sound of it . . . after thinking I’d never hear it again . . .

I rubbed at my chest, feeling like my heart was on fire.

“You’re safe,” she said excitedly as she pulled back. “When I didn’t see you with the rebels, I feared the worst.”

“After I left Arboros, I took a stop on my way up north to visit some friends,” he said. “By the time I made it to Montios, the Guardian camp was gone. Then I stumbled on Vance. Never thought I’d see the day he worked with a Descen—hold on, did I hear right? That big glowing guy is your father?” Diem grimaced, and he barked a laugh. “By the Flames, woman, you never stop with the surprises.”

“Believe me, it was a surprise for me, too. Wait”—she gripped his arm —“does this mean you know where they are?”

“’Fraid not. I didn’t stick around long.” His grin gave way to something more troubled. “After the first attack, I knew it wasn’t for me. The way they carved those people up. And the children . . .”

Her eyes went wide. “Are they still alive?”

“Wish I knew. Ophiucae sent them away with some women. Mortals— other Guardians, I think. He wouldn’t tell us where they went, not even Vance.” He shook his head. “I’m no fan of Descended, but what they’re doing up there . . . it’s not right. Your mother would never let the Guardians

do anything like that.”

“Indeed,” I murmured.

His eyes shot to me. “You must be Luther. I’ve heard lots about you.”

The clip of his voice suggested little, if any, had been good.

“Brecke’s an old friend,” Diem explained to me. “He helped me escape when the Guardians were holding me hostage in Arboros.” She turned to him. “Brecke, this is Luther Corbois, my—”

Her abrupt silence went on a little too long, and Brecke arched a curious brow.

“Her advisor,” I finished. I extended a hand. “Welcome to Lumnos, Brecke.”

Stone-faced, he stared at my waiting hand, then at me. He turned to Diem and smirked. “Look at us. First rebels, then fugitives. Now you’re the Flamin’ Queen. Guess I have a thing for serving Bellator women.”

“You’re joining my army?” she asked.

He nodded. “After I left Montios, I heard some crazy lady claimed to have all the Crowns. I sent Albanon a hawk to see if it was true. He told me to get my ass to Lumnos. Said you were doing something special here, and we needed to help.”

Diem’s face softened. “Henri said that?”

Brecke pointed his chin to the north edge of camp. “Ask him yourself.”

Her breath hitched as she turned to see Henri sitting on a log on the camp’s outer perimeter. Lana was perched on his lap, and they were talking with faces close, his hand pressed to her belly.

“You know,” Brecke said, sidling close to Diem and throwing an arm across her shoulder, “Lana seems like a very nice girl, but I bet all my finest blades that if you offered to take him back, Henri would—”

All the strength in Emarion couldn’t have stopped the feral growl that tore out of my throat.

Brecke chuckled quietly. “Ah. I see. Albanon’s been replaced, too.”

Diem’s good mood vanished. She ducked out from Brecke’s arm and stiffly stepped away. “I’m glad you’re here, Brecke. We could use your bladesmith expertise.” She paused. “Any chance you can craft armor, too?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t do much of it in the army, but the mechanics aren’t that different from a blade.”

“Perfect. Tomorrow, find my High General, Alixe. Tell her I want you to help with our secret project. Tell her I trust you with the truth.”

“You Bellators and your secrets,” he teased, though he preened a little at her trust. “I’m looking forward to it.”

I slid an arm around Diem’s waist, and I didn’t pretend it was anything other than possessive. “Nice to meet you, Brecke. We must go. Her Majesty has an appointment.”

“That wasn’t what you brought me to see?” she asked as I led her away.

“No.” My stomach felt coated with tar. “This is.”

As we approached Henri’s tent, Lana eyed us both, then took Henri’s face in her hands and planted him with a passionate—perhaps also possessive—kiss.

As subtly as I could manage, I watched Diem out of the corner of my eye. She frowned and averted her gaze from the showy display. Though I told myself she was merely being polite, my worst fears jeered that her heart still burned for her former flame.

Lana rose, and so did Henri. “Thank you both for agreeing to this,” I said.

Lana gave a silent nod and a look toward Diem I couldn’t quite interpret. She placed one last kiss on Henri’s cheek, then walked away.

Diem glanced between me and Henri. “What’s going on?”

I squared my shoulders to her and took her hands, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Diem,” I said quietly, “whatever it is you’re keeping

inside, it’s eating you alive. You’re fighting some battle I can’t see, and I promised you I’d never let you fight alone.” I squeezed her hands. “He was your closest friend. If you can’t talk to me . . . then talk to him.”

The emotions on her face were beyond what words could label. She seemed to be weighing, deliberating, deciding . . . what? Whether to speak to him, or whether to slap me for going too far?

My aura curled around her and held her in a way my body couldn’t. Her mouth parted as my godhood brushed its invisible touch across her lips.

Henri stepped forward and held out a hand. “Come on, D. Let’s talk.

Just you and me.”

A stronger man would have walked away.

Once Diem let go of my hands and took Henri’s instead, a stronger man would have given them the privacy they deserved. After all, if Diem chose to act on any feelings for him she might still have, I had no right to interfere —though it would not stop me from trying.

But when it came to Diem, I wasn’t a stronger man. I skulked into the nearby forest, cloaked myself in shadows, and I watched.

They were awkward at first. Both of them made an effort to keep distance between them. They perched on a fallen log and sat as far apart as they could, teetering on each end. I couldn’t hear their words—that boundary, at least, I wouldn’t cross—but I could tell the conversation was stilted and slow. I feared this plan, like so many before, was doomed to fail.

And then . . . he made her smile. One second, she was anxiously picking at the bark of the trunk, and the next, she was smirking. Chuckling. Rolling her eyes and shooting him amused, knowing looks.

There was an ease between them, the kind of second-nature comfort that could only come from spending years at a person’s side. The kind she and I

hadn’t had time to acquire.

Eventually, she began to talk.

And then she began to weep. When Henri shifted down the log and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, my self-restraint almost vanished. It was only when he led her into his tent and closed the flap that I finally walked away.

That night, I lay awake, unable to forget the bloodless, stricken look on Henri’s face at whatever Diem had told him.

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