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Luik rested his arms upon the edge of the enormous copper bathtub that had been placed into the Harper’s warm common room with a grin. He’d just finished telling the story of his trip to the inn, concealed upon a platform between two carriages, and having the new king himself help move the bathtub inside.
The young Storm Singer, Fi, seemed to break into giggles each time she glanced at him, and Flir had to admit, it was an amusing sight. A merman in a bath, placed near the end of a long dining table in the middle of an inn.
In fact, most of the room seemed to be enjoying the ridiculousness of it all. Lamps and a crackling fire lit many smiles, though maybe the wine and ale had a hand in that – or maybe relief too, for that was what Flir sensed most from the room. Surrounded by dozens of people as she was, it was difficult to sort through and read specifics... but that was a welcome change; she only had to do so if she wanted, otherwise it wasn’t too dissimilar from the hum of voices.
Something bumped against her arm.
“Forgive me, dilar,” Pevin said as he shifted his crutches back, closer to his own seat. He seemed in high spirits himself – in fact, he had not complained once at losing most of his left leg in the streets of Ilesinya. “Many things will be difficult but I am alive,” he’d replied after Flir had stemmed the blood-flow and they’d limped away from the rows and rows of crushed Ilesinyans.
And now, mostly healed and eating his meal of salted swordfish and grilled beans, his smile remained.
Notch burst into laughter where he sat beside Luik, to the point where tears ran down his now clean-shaven face. His hair had been cut too, it was still long but now it was neat and the grey streaks did not seem so prominent, since half of the colour had obviously been dust and dirt.
Nia and Lavinia sat nearby, trying with mixed success to occupy the Storm Singer’s children, who were doing their best to touch everything in sight, eyes wide and bright. Seated across from Flir, Pevin and Kanis, was a somewhat less jubilant Ain. The Pathfinder ate his share and spoke to all, but mostly Wayrn. His gaze was distant throughout the meal and celebration, and Flir did not need Evakeda’s gift to know why.
“Has Danillo been able to reach the Cloud?” she asked him.
Ain nodded. “Jedda and Majid eventually found them – everyone had fled the Oasis to Caves of the Mazu.”
Wayrn rested his fork against his piled-high plate. “Remnants of the Plague-men began to form from the smothering carpet that had been left behind,” he added. “But the Stones of Shali dealt with them quickly enough.”
“You must be impatient to return,” Flir said.
“Incredibly so,” Ain replied, then apologised. “I do appreciate the hospitality, of course.”
Flir smiled. “Everyone understands; I would be the same.”
“To hear that my family is safe brings me peace, but I know it won’t become truly real until I see and hold them myself.”
“Are you planning on returning too?” she asked Wayrn.
“Yes – but not at first,” he replied between mouthfuls. “Have you seen the new addition to the Royal Map Room?”
Flir nodded. An ever-growing and precise list of travel-stone locations, those that the Mascare had found so far.
“There’s one near enough that I can catch up to Ain whenever I finish here; I need to do some further research on the Denedra language before I return to the notes I have in the Cloud. I only hope they survived.”
“And what about us?” Kanis asked her. “Pevin, can you wait a while longer?”
“I’d actually like a little more time to heal, if possible.”
Flir pointed an empty fork at Kanis. “Just what are you thinking about now?”
“Aren.”
She sighed. “We’ve been over this.”
“And I’m still not satisfied – he might not have died at all.”
“You haven’t changed my mind yet, you know. I think we should remember Aren as a hero... and to be honest, I’m more interested in what the Conclave may have put Ekolay up to.”
He slapped the table – gently enough. “Perfect. Two reasons to stay a little while.”
At the head of the table, Lord Danillo stood and lifted a cup of Fire-Lemon. Flanking him was Holindo and Admiral Baliso, who raised their own drinks when the new king cleared his throat. “Thank you for joining me here, Heroes of Anaskar.”
A cheer rattled the windows.
“Though we certainly have cause to celebrate, I want us to remember also Lord Abrensi who saved every life in this city, with welcome assistance from our other Storm Singers. His wisdom and verve will be missed, I know.”
Murmurs of agreement filled the room.
Danillo continued. “And we must also take this time for King Oseto, who despite some less than honourable activities, fought for this kingdom longer than any of us – mostly from this very inn. He was fierce and tireless, as I think most of you are aware. And so he remained until the end,” Danillo added. “I know not all have had the time to learn each detail, but the king was able to deliver one final warning and prevent a great calamity, and for that we thank him. Please, raise your glasses.”
Flir did so, a frown of sadness sweeping over her – partly for the loss; Seto had always been there to fall back on whenever she, Notch and Luik had been stuck... but also, partly for the news Notch had shared... news that no doubt, the new King would not reveal.
News of the old fool’s moment of weakness.
“Hail, King Oseto,” Danillo proclaimed.
“Hail!” came a chorus from the table.
“And for my part as king, I will seek each day to live up to the example my friend set for me.”
Another cheer rose and then Danillo sat as servers brought new platters of food to the table, this time steaming puddings and sweet sauces. More ale arrived too, and while Kanis attacked his plate, Flir found herself doing little more than nursing her drink.
A host of unanswered questions lingered, but chief among them had become the tantalising glimpses of further truth about the dilar... was there a chance that someone in Aren’s cult of Custodians could help after all? Yeshinov had claimed she was different too...
“Flir.”
She looked up – it was Pevin; he’d used her name, which was unusual for him, and he was smiling too. “Save that for tomorrow.”
“Ah, save what?”
“That expression,” he said. “I’d be most relieved if you took some time to relax and enjoy the company – it’s hard work for me to worry about you all the time, you know.”
“I...” She stopped a scowl and chuckled. “Fine, just for tonight, my nursemaid.”
“Many thanks, dilar.”