The Continent (The Continent #1)(94)

“Mr. Lowe,” I say, my throat tightening, “have I helped to end one war only to sow the seeds of another?”

“I wouldn’t use that word just yet,” he says. “I am hopeful that ultimately, the four nations may unite again. And in any case, the responsibility for what has happened does not rest on your shoulders—you merely asked for help when help was needed, Miss Sun.”

“I fear the Topi and the Aven’ei will require more than one intervention.”

“I agree,” he says. “The West has taken Ivanel. We shall maintain patrols, and will assist in the construction of barriers and defenses here on the Continent, as you yourself so wisely suggested. This war will not be renewed—we will see to it. I mourn every life taken today by my weaponsmen. But if the deaths of a few will save one or both of the tribes from ongoing violence, I consider it a fair price for peace.”

“It’s a heavy price,” I say, thinking of the blood on my own hands. “A terrible price.”

“Indeed.”

“With all that’s happening back in the—well…will you now resume relations with the Aven’ei?”

He smiles. “Miss Sun, we intend to do far more than that. It is our wish that the Aven’ei should become allies to the West.”

“Allies,” I say, openly surprised. “Equals?”

“In all things.”

“And the Topi? Are you to reach out to them as well?”

“Ah,” he says, and smiles. “That will take a bit of doing.”

“But you will try?”

He laughs. “Are you an optimist, Miss Sun, or a politician?”

“A fresh start ought to be fresh for all, no?”

“Mmm,” he says. “A bit of both then. Well. We shall certainly do our very best. But forgive me, I nearly forgot—we’ve brought a friend of yours along! He has been so hoping to see you.”

“Which friend, sir?”

“Hold on there, we’ll just bring him over—he’s aboard another plane.”

A few minutes later, the heli-plane nearest us moves out of position; another plane takes its place, and through the open cargo door I see Mr. Cloud, looking very sharp in one of the sleek navy blue uniforms of the West. He waves and claps his hands together, his warm blue eyes reflecting a lightness I have not seen in him before. An elastic platform is laid from plane to plane, and a few men work to secure it. I peer out the door to see if Noro, Keiji, or Takashi have come, but the field is empty below us; my heart twists, but I hold on to hope.

Mr. Cloud trundles across the bridge and removes his hat. “Miss Sun, you’re indestructible, aren’t you, now?” His eyes shine as he shakes his head. “I’m so glad to see you safe, miss.”

Given all that has just happened, I cannot tolerate the formality of his manner. It gives me such great joy to see him again that I throw my arms about his waist at once. “I am glad to see you, too.”

It takes him a moment, but he returns my embrace. “Well, I—I don’t rightly know that I deserve such affection, Miss Sun. But I do think of you as family now, just in my own way of thinking, as it were.”

I step back and smile up at him. “Just so, Mr. Cloud. It is just so.”

He looks abashed, but smiles all the same. “They’ve made me director—director of the facility at Ivanel.”

“I wondered about the uniform,” I say, brushing a bit of lint from his shoulder. “Congratulations to you, sir—I can’t think of anyone more deserving.”

“I’m proud to be of the West,” he says, looking out across the Vale. “Couldn’t be prouder.”

“And well you should be.”

“So if you’re to stay here on the Continent, and I’m to be nearby at Ivanel, I don’t wonder if we ought to manage a visit now and then?”

“That would be lovely! I’m sure I—”

“Vaela!” comes a call from below, nearly whisked away by the noise of the engines. “Vaela!”

I hurry to the edge of the plane, my heart hammering in my chest. And in one instant, hope turns to joy, as I look down to see Noro and Keiji, bloodied and battered and alive, waving up at me from the field.

The extension is deployed and I climb down as quickly as I can. Noro pulls me off the ladder and into his arms, holding me close, so close, and the kiss he gives me is like to set my heart on fire. We cling to one another, awash with a relief that knows no bounds, a joy tempered only by all we have lost.

When he sets me down, I drag Keiji toward me and wrap my arms around both of them. We are all in happy tears, even my beautiful, stoic Noro, my love. I look down at Keiji. “Are you hurt, sweet one?”

He lifts his arm to reveal a gruesome gash along his side. But his eyes show pride rather than pain, and I cannot help but laugh. He points to a boy nearby who looks to be about his age.

“Go,” I say, but kiss his cheek before he runs off. I turn to Noro. “And you?”

A slim wound runs along his left cheekbone; I trace a path beside it with my finger.

“I have never felt better.” He takes my hand, running his thumb over my nails, the beds of which are encrusted with blood. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, I promise.”