Ink, Iron, and Glass (Ink, Iron, and Glass #1)(94)

Elsa wanted to say, It’s not over yet, but the doubt twisting in her gut kept the words from forming. What if Leo truly was beyond her reach? He’d chosen a side, after all, and it wasn’t the same as hers. She should never have trusted him.

“I was only looking,” Elsa finally said, by way of explanation. “Alek is coming down the path.”

She left the door standing open and returned to Jumi’s bedside.

Jumi took her hand in a firm grip. “I know you, daughter. I didn’t raise you to give up so easily. But this is my fight, not yours, do you hear me?”

“You can’t go back to Earth,” she said. “The restorative properties only function in Veldana—if you went back, you’d fall ill again. Mother, you could die.”

Jumi looked as if she wanted to argue, but instead she released Elsa’s hand and said, “Tell me, what became of Montaigne?”

“The Order of Archimedes has him in custody.”

“So he’s to be locked up. As traitors ought to be,” Jumi said suggestively.

Elsa gave her mother a sidelong look. Were they still discussing Montaigne, or had they returned to the topic of Leo? But she never got the chance to clarify—that was the moment when Alek came shuffling up to the open door, and his arrival ended the argument.

Elsa tried to step aside, not wanting to intrude on their reunion, but Alek drew her in and they all huddled close, talking much longer than they should for Jumi’s sake. Three generations of scriptologists, mentors and students to one another but also something more. Family. Elsa had more of it than she’d once thought.

Later, when it was time for Jumi to rest, Elsa drew Alek aside to speak with him privately. “Will you stay with her? She needs time to recover, whether she likes it or not. And she won’t like it—you know how difficult she can be.”

Alek gave her a wry look. “How difficult she can be?”

“She needs someone to look after her,” Elsa persisted.

“And who’s going to look after you?” he said.

She wanted to snap, I can look after myself, but that would hardly be the reassurance he needed. Instead, she settled for saying, “There’s Porzia and Faraz. I believe I can still count on them, even with…” She swallowed the words, Leo gone. “In any case, my work’s not done. We must retrieve the editbook.”

Alek frowned, and for a moment she thought he’d argue with her. Perhaps insist that the Order take over the battle with Garibaldi after her spectacular failure. But he voiced no words of criticism, only nodded. “Very well. I’ll stay.”

She nodded. “And I’ll go.”

*

Elsa took the shortcut up the steep hill, weaving her way around rocks and trees. She didn’t want to be seen on the main path, didn’t want the villagers making a production out of her departure. After weeks of fearing she might never return to her world, it would be hard enough to leave Veldana without a reminder of the people staying behind. Her people—she saw now that they truly were.

At the Edgemist, Elsa paused to check her supplies: doorbook and laboratory book, revolver in its holster, stability glove, portal device. The instruments of her craft. She suspected she would need them all.

She set the dials and flipped the switch. The portal irised open before her—cold as betrayal, black as uncertainty, edged in swirling chaos. The portal, so like the future that lay beyond it.

Elsa stepped through.





EPILOGUE

Leo balanced on the narrow platform between cars, his knees slightly bent to buffer against the rocking and swaying of the train. Behind him, the access door creaked, but he didn’t turn to see who it was.

“There you are,” Aris said, his voice raised to be heard over the noise of the train’s passage.

Leo shut his eyes and focused on the feel of the wind whipping by, the clattering of wheels over the rails. He’d grown so accustomed to Elsa’s doorbook that now it felt almost like a luxury to travel the slow way through reality.

“That was quite a performance,” Aris continued, seemingly unbothered by Leo’s lack of response. “I wouldn’t have guessed you had it in you.”

Sourly, Leo wondered if he meant the performance he’d given Father, or the earlier one—the one for Elsa. Now Leo turned, wanting to gauge his brother’s response as he said, “At least one of us got what he wanted.”

Aris regarded him mildly, though there was a flicker of calculation buried deep under that expression of innocence. “You’re the one who made the deal: the editbook for Elsa’s freedom. Isn’t that what you wanted? We both know Father would have pursued her if she’d escaped with the book.”

“I did what I had to do. There were no good choices.” He’d only wanted to protect her, even if that meant protecting her from her own sense of responsibility. Now the memory of the moment he’d betrayed Elsa was like a sore tooth—painful, but he couldn’t stop prodding it. Her shocked expression played over and over in his mind. Leo swallowed, his throat tight. “You’re the one satisfied with this outcome, not me.”

Aris looked away, and for once there seemed to be a vulnerability about his smile. “I won’t pretend to be unhappy to have you back, brother. Do you fault me for being pleased at our reunion?”