Island of Dragons (Unwanteds #7)(93)

Aaron sat down across the table from Alex, hesitating to wake his identical twin. “Identical,” he murmured ruefully. “Not so much anymore.” With Aaron’s permanently scarred forehead and Alex’s useless arm, it was easy to tell the two boys apart now.

“Alex,” Aaron whispered.

Alex didn’t move.

“Alex,” Aaron said, a little louder.

Alex’s head popped up and his eyes shot open. “What? What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” said Aaron. “Take it easy.”

Alex blinked a few times, took a deep breath, and relaxed. He looked down at his arm, and his face fell as he remembered. “Oh,” he said.

“Does it hurt?” asked Aaron.

“Not anymore. It’s . . . it’ll be fine.” He looked at Aaron. “I think we should do the announcement this morning, don’t you? I really just . . . ,” he sighed. “I want to get it over with, to be honest. I’m going to tell Simber first, of course, and some of the others—”

“Alex,” said Aaron. He reached across the table to his brother. “Listen. About that—I have to tell you something.”

Alex looked up. “What?”

Aaron glanced over his shoulder to make sure nobody was watching or listening too closely, then reached into his vest and pulled out the robe and the Triad spells book. He put them firmly in front of Alex and sat back. Without faltering, he said, “I don’t want to be head mage.”

“What?” Alex’s face fell. “Aaron, why would you say that? You’re perfect—”

“No, I’m not. I’m not perfect for it. I would be bad at it, actually. It’s a terrible idea. And it’s just . . . it’s not something I should do. For my own personal reasons. So I declare—”

“Stop!” said Alex, alarmed. “What are you talking about? Who am I supposed to appoint, if not you?”

An incredulous look crossed Aaron’s face. “No one,” he said. “You are the clear leader of this island, Alex, and the head mage of Artimé.”

“But I can’t do anything anymore!” Tears sprang to Alex’s tired eyes, and he appeared even more frustrated by their unexpected presence. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I’m not fit for this job. Artimé needs someone with incredible magical abilities and strong leadership experience. With my arm like this, I’ll never . . .” He faltered, then sniffed and forged ahead. “I’ll never be what I was. And even then, I’m not as good as you. That’s what makes you so perfect. Don’t you see?”

Aaron’s face softened. His heart ached for his brother. But he also knew the truth. “The people of Artimé would never follow me,” he said softly. “Nor should they. Being the head mage, the leader of a place like this—it’s an all-encompassing job that takes way more than just some dumb luck with magic like I’ve had in order to succeed. It takes the kind of person who can lead people unselfishly, with goodness and love and the best intentions for them. The kind of person who cares deeply about them, no matter if he’s in the depths of personal misery, or at the height of mutual harmony and peace.”

Aaron leaned forward. “And that person is you, Alex. I’ve been watching you for years—seeing how your people respect you. How they’d do anything for you. They’ll fight anyone you ask them to fight, and they’ll work tirelessly together to build a stronghold of a nation just to hear one word of praise from you, and that word stays with them for a lifetime.”

Aaron gripped Alex’s wrist and spoke with his heart wide open for perhaps the first time, but certainly not the last. “I used to be jealous of your relationship with your people. But now I’m just proud to be your brother. And that’s all I want to be when it comes to this island. You could lose all your limbs, Alex, and you would still hold more esteem and authority with the Artiméans than anyone else here, because you’ve built it. Don’t you see that you’d only hurt them by stepping down, after all they’ve done for you? Do you want to give up like this, right in front of them? And try to explain that you, Alexander Stowe, can’t overcome this setback after that impossible victory you just managed to pull off?”

Alex’s jaw slacked. He wet his lips and closed his mouth, then swallowed hard and looked down at Aaron’s hand on his arm. After a moment he turned his gaze to the robe and the book in front of him.

His brother was right. What kind of example would Alex be if he stepped down now? His people had lost friends and family and had suffered just as many injuries as Alex and his friends had, but they weren’t giving up. They were stronger than ever in their loyalty—to him and to Artimé. And now they were finally at peace.

“You deserve to lead in a time of peace, Alex,” said Aaron, as if he could read Alex’s mind. “You have to at least try.”

Alex’s eyes remained on the robe and book. Slowly he nodded. “You’re right,” he said softly.

Aaron smiled. “I declare,” he began again, and this time Alex didn’t stop him, “that Alexander Stowe is now the head mage of Artimé.”

Alex slid his hand out from under Aaron’s grasp and picked up the robe and book. After a moment he looked up at his brother, whose expression was sober but whose eyes were bright. Alex pressed his lips together, then held the items to his chest and closed his eyes. He took in a solid breath and let it out slowly, then opened his eyes. “Thank you,” he said.