Archangel's Sun (Guild Hunter #13)(63)

But one thing she knew: “The Aodhan I met in Lumia is no one’s fool. Don’t do him the disservice of believing you know him better than he knows himself—I think, for the first time in an eternity, he knows himself.” In this, she and Aodhan were mirrors of one another.

“What if he decides that the man he’s becoming wants nothing to do with me?” Raw, the words bled Illium’s pain.

“Then you’ll let him go,” she said quietly, her hand fisted against her chest and her gaze locked with his. “Freedom and love are entwined. And you, my blue-winged boy, you love more deeply than anyone I’ve ever known.”

She almost heard the hardness of his swallow. She wished she could be there to wrap him up in her arms and in her wings, as she remembered doing for Aodhan. All wide shoulders and a height that eclipsed hers, he’d been so quiet, so stiff, but he hadn’t rebuffed her.

Crooning gentle words, she’d cradled him close, and led him to where he could lie with his head in her lap and his body partially under her wing. So much pain contained in that big, strong body, his own wings limp and his face expressionless. Memory upon memory of doing that for the sparkling boy who’d gone deathly silent.

“Until then,” she said, “love him with all your strength. Aodhan may one day shatter your heart, but at this critical time when he’s spreading his wings, he needs the support of a friend who’s never once let him down.” Anguish twisted through her to give such advice, but she knew her boy would never forgive himself if his friend needed him and he wasn’t there.

Another flash of memory, this one bound with fog. A grown Illium’s shoulders slumped and his wings as limp as Aodhan’s had become. “I tried so hard, Mother,” he sobbed, “but I couldn’t find him. For so long, I couldn’t find him. Now that we have . . .” A shudder so violent it seemed to rattle his bones. “I don’t know if he’ll ever come back to us. I don’t know if he’ll ever heal from what was done to him.”

“My beautiful boy,” she said on the wave of memory, “you’ve never loved with boundaries. Don’t begin now. Don’t alter who you are because you’re afraid that you’ll lose what you love.”

“I wish I could be a child again, when your kisses used to make every pain better.”

“I’ll come see you after my sojourn in Titus’s territory is over, and Lumia is running well once more.” She would hold him then, because no child was ever too old for his mother’s love.

“Mother.”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re awake again. I’ve missed you.”

She stood there, heart aching after ending the call, but she wasn’t yet done. She had more than one boy to check up on.

“Eh-ma.” Aodhan’s astonished voice as he spoke the affectionate term by which he’d always addressed Sharine. “You’re on the phone!”

“Yes,” she said, smiling at hearing him alive and well. “I’ve joined this new age.” Catching the sound of wind, she said, “You’re in the air?” That explained why he’d answered with his voice alone, rather than so she could talk to him face-to-face.

“Night patrol,” he told her. “There’s such silence in this landscape, but I feel an itch at the back of my neck, the sense that Lijuan has left us one more surprise.”

Sharine straightened; Aodhan had always been intuitive. “Listen to your instincts.”

“I will,” he promised. “I didn’t initially wish to be left in charge of the stronghold while Archangel Suyin went to the border, but now I’m glad of it.”

“Do you have backup?” China’s forces had been decimated, and with the country apparently devoid of reborn but for the children at the border, they hadn’t been allocated many relief troops.

“A skeleton squadron. But Lady Caliane’s prime squadron is on alert to assist should it become necessary.” A sweep of wind that indicated a turn. “How are you, Eh-ma?”

“Surviving Titus.”

A laugh that had gone silent for too long, followed by words more hesitant. “Have you spoken to Illium?”

“Just now. He is well.” She considered how much to say, decided not to interfere, for they were grown now. But she could give advice—such was the maternal prerogative. “I get the impression you two are still at odds.”

A deep sound she’d never before heard Aodhan make. It was more in Titus’s wheelhouse. “He’s the most stubborn person I know.”

Her lips curved, her heart hurting less. That wasn’t the sound of a man attempting to disengage from a friendship. “I seem to remember you swearing up and down and sideways that you’d stolen the cookies, even as the real culprit sat there with crumbs all over his face.”

Sudden, dazzling laughter. “You know too many of my secrets.” He said nothing more on the point, and she let it go—she had to be neutral territory, so either one of them could speak to her without worry of their words going any further.

Instead, she asked about how he was faring so far from home, and listened to all he had to tell. Afterward, she stood there on the balcony and worried. If Lijuan had left behind a final terrible gift, Aodhan was in the epicenter of it. But unlike when he’d been a child, she couldn’t pull him back from a dangerous edge.