Archangel's Light (Guild Hunter #14)(101)

“Sleep, you grump.” Illium’s voice wasn’t hard or angry.

It was worried.

Aodhan could feel his shoulders bunching up again, his muscles tensing. He knew he was being unreasonable—especially since he’d been ragging on Illium to be careful. But the things inside Aodhan that had broken a long time ago, though they’d finally begun to heal, the scars were hard and rigid and without flexibility.

“I don’t know how to bend on this,” he said, his voice sleep-blurred. “I can’t . . .”

“It’s okay, Adi. I can bend until you’re ready.”

“What if . . . the scars are so unyielding.”

“It takes a long time for them to soften?” Illium chuckled. “I waited two hundred years for your first waking. What’s another couple of centuries?”

The last thing Aodhan felt before sleep sucked him under were Illium’s fingers stroking through his hair, a tender caress that was wanted, was beloved.



* * *




*

Suyin returned when they were an estimated three days of ground-travel out from the location of the new stronghold. That estimate was predicated on a number of eruptions, the detour required by a new toxic patch that Illium had scouted up ahead, and the heavy snow buildup on the road.

Remove all that and they could’ve reached the citadel within the day.

“He’s as well as can be expected,” she told them when they asked about Jinhai. “At present, he’s basking at being inside a large stronghold where he has the freedom to move as he wishes. I also told him that he can think about how he wants to decorate his room and—once we are settled in the new citadel—I will get him the paints, wallpapers, and carpets.”

It was an architect’s thought, that last, and Aodhan was thankful for it. It’d mean a great deal to the youth to have ownership of his private surroundings, to actually be able to influence how he lived. It might even redirect a little of his manipulative tendencies in a healthy direction.

“He’s also cooperating with Keir’s attempts at counseling,” Suyin added.

“The healer got here fast.”

Suyin nodded at Illium’s interjection. “He flew on one of the mortal machines all the way to Caliane’s territory, then she had a combat squadron escort him across to the stronghold.”

“Does Keir have any thoughts on Jinhai’s future mind health?” Aodhan knew the boy’s journey would be a long one, yet still he hoped for an answer that would spare Lijuan’s son centuries of mental anguish.

But Suyin shook her head. “Not yet. He says he must assess first—at present, he says a lot of Jinhai’s cooperation is an act, a scheme to show himself as he believes Keir wants to see him. Keir is not discouraged, for he says it is the merest beginning.” She spoke those words as if they were a talisman.

“His wings?” The question came from Illium.

“Keir and Fana recommended a medical amputation, to which he agreed.” Lines around Suyin’s mouth. “Arza helped him make that decision by locating images of you after you lost your wings, Illium.”

Illium nodded, his hands braced on his hips and his hair damp at the temples from his most recent scouting run. “Smart.”

“Jinhai stared at the images for hours. He’s seen your wings with his own eyes, so he believed me when I told him they would grow back—and grow back stronger. And . . . they were useless appendages to him. He wasn’t emotionally attached and actually seemed excited to lose them.”

A strand of white hair that had escaped her braid danced across the thin and unsmiling lines of her face. “Keir and Fana agree that we’ll have to maintain a careful watch to ensure he doesn’t attempt to destroy his wings when they begin to grow. Given his age, it’ll take considerable time for him to achieve full growth, then flight strength—until then, they’ll once more be dead weight to him.”

Aodhan couldn’t imagine any winged being feeling relief at such a loss, but then no other winged being had lived Jinhai’s life.

“I’ll be returning to see him on a regular basis,” Suyin added, “but first, let’s get my people home.” Dark eyes met Aodhan’s. “I would speak alone to you, my second.”

Illium stepped back. “I’ll grab Vetra and Xan, and we’ll catch the general up on our current situation.”

Once they were alone, Suyin asked Aodhan to walk with her along the river, on the rocky shore of which the caravan had stopped for a break. “Arza has accepted my offer that she stand at my side as my second.”

Aodhan waited to be stabbed by a sense of loss, of jealousy, of the panic of having made the wrong call—but inside him bloomed only a warm surge of happiness. For both of them. She needed a permanent second and he wanted to go home. To New York. To the city where a certain blue-winged angel might drop by at any moment. “She’s who I hoped you’d choose.”

“You did well to conceal your partiality.” A faint smile. “I’m glad I took her with me to settle Jinhai. It allowed us time alone, and I saw how she is in difficult situations.” Stopping, she turned toward him and held out a hand, palm up.

When Aodhan enclosed it in his own, she said, “You are extraordinary, Aodhan, and I will never forget you and all you did to help me take these first steps into my reign. I hope you will not be a stranger to my lands.”