Ash jerked upright, suddenly awake and drenched in sweat, his heart in his throat. He looked to either side and saw the wide bed was empty. With a relieved sigh, he fell back, dropping his arm across his eyes.

He heard the quiet sound of a metal-on-metal tap. The soft glow of light from the sunstone lamp seeped under his arm. He lifted it enough to see Storm using the tip of her knife to open the lamp without getting off the floor. “I thought you were training the Unsvets.”

“They complain I am too strict and demanding. They also have short memories.” Ash shifted to lay on his stomach, looking at the woman as she worked, her weapons arranged around her as she cleaned them. “After Skyfire trains them alone, they forget their complaints of me to lament about him. Then I return to remind them.”

Chuckling, he kissed her temple. “I almost feel sorry for them.”

“Almost,” Storm echoed, holding her two-edged sword out to eye it. Satisfied with it, she slid it back into its sheath followed by the rest of the weapons before turning. Green-gold eyes glittered in the light as she studied Ash, her calloused fingers gently running through his hair. “There is plenty of breakfast left. Emil and Emaris have not returned this morning. Again.”

The tension across his shoulders eased and he let out the breath he held with relief she did not ask him what had woken him. He smiled, caressing the metallic marks on her cheek before he got out of bed. “I am sure they are depriving someone else of their allotment of food.”

The woman sniffed. “Of that, I have no doubt.” She waited to claim his hand after he finished dressing. Before she opened the door, he pulled her close to kiss. His smile faltered when she gently but firmly pushed him away.

They had not gotten two steps out of the room before Izkynder ran up. The boy wrapped an arm around one of their legs each, hugging them together. His tiny winged reptilian pet Chitta flapped his wings and made all sorts of protesting noise. His mother walked over to detach him. “Dear, let our Alanis come to the table so they can have breakfast with the rest of us.”

“I am not bothered.” Storm ruffled the boy’s hair. “I am not hungry.”

“Did you eat at all today?” The healer’s voice was both stern and affectionate. The Desanti woman did not answer or meet her gaze. “Mm hm. I thought not.” Taylin picked up a meat-filled roll, took a small bite, and placed it on Storm’s plate.

“I said I am not hungry.” Storm sat back in her chair and ate the roll with tiny bites.

“You are never hungry,” Mureln pointed out, his nonchalance counterpoint to Storm’s testiness. “Those few times you say you are, the servants bring enough that even Emil and Emaris cannot finish.” He wagged his butter knife. “And that is quite an accomplishment.”

“It is a waste of food.” Storm narrowed her eyes when everyone spoke the same statement in unison with her. She humphed, crossing her arms while they laughed.

“Where are those two bottomless pits?” Bella asked as she settled between Jaison and Lyra. “I admit, it is nice not fearing I may lose a finger reaching for anything. I have few enough useful ones as it is.” She wiggled the appendages, then adjusted the sling her paralyzed arm rested in. She bumped Lyra’s shoulder lightly. “I told you to stop blaming yourself. You did what was necessary. Most would have killed me.”

“And I am working on improving my skill enough so I can mend the damage,” the healer assured. “It will be fine.”

Gaze still downcast, Lyra nodded. “If you say so.”

Storm narrowed her eyes at her. “Taylin, you must check Lyra’s hearing. She questions she heard you.” The blond archer looked up, then turned bright red when the woman smiled in satisfaction at her reflexive desire to correct her Desanti literalness.

Ash yawned as Terrence and Ophilia joined the rest at the table. “Did you not sleep well?” the younger man asked.

“Hm? Oh, I just stayed up later than I should have writing yesterday’s journal entry.” He ignored the skeptical looks he got from both his lifemate and former apprentice. “I will not return until late from the archives again tonight.”

“I do not understand what you think you are going find there,” Storm grumbled as she finished her food. She took her glass of water and drained half of it. “What has happened, has happened. What will happen, will happen. Knowing why is unnecessary.”

Ash pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “We have had this discussion before.”

“No. It has not been a discussion yet! It is you telling me why I am wrong to be angry and you still spending every waking moment among dead books.” She stood and pointed at Jaison and Bella. “And do not tell me they are not quite dead!”

The man held up both hands. She hid her smile behind her glass, hair slipping forward to conceal her face. “I would not dream of it, Alanis na’Zhekali.”

“Alanis!” A sharp gesture toward Ash followed Storm’s exclamation. “We are supposed to be Alanis na’Zhekali together, but I may as well be alone! You said you would help me, but you are doing nothing. Nothing! Is it your Forentan blood that drives you to lie?”

“Lie?” He stood up, his pride pricked and stung by the truth within her accusations. His cheeks were flush with shame. “I did not lie to you!”

“You do.” Her hand slashed the air between them in a decisive gesture. “You lie to yourself as well!” She spun on her heel and stalked to the grassy ledge, the drizar dropping from above. “I go to commune with Thandar. I will return. Eventually.” She climbed onto the beast’s back and they leapt away.

Izkynder broke the silence that had taken over the room. “Mama? Aunt Storm owie?”

“No, sweetie,” she assured, hugging him with one arm. “She is only a little grumpy.” His skeptical expression and crossed arms were so comical, the adults could not help but laugh.

Ash remained silent, lost in thought. Before he could speak, everyone got up, heading out to various destinations or activities. Lips pressed together, the mage sat back with a frown. “She is right.”