[Infinity's End] Edge of Tomorrow - Ch 17
Sep. 9th, 2010 10:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
n_wilkinsonTitle: The Edge of Tomorrow
Series: Infinity's End, Book One
Summary: Ione makes a difficult decision when her allies call for her imprisonment, forcing her to flee for her life. In the hands of the Theravada, she meets Gale Arlen, rumored leader of the rebels, and learns what it truly means to choose a side.
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22)
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Chapter Seventeen
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“By the time I arrived, purple smoke was billowing into the hallway,” Gale said, gesturing widely with his hands.
Ione snickered and shook her head. Imagining her uncle's lab as it blew up yet again was not something difficult to do. It really did seem to be a weekly occurrence. And yet, Azriel never grew angry. He just rebuilt, listened to Kieran whine, and watched him do it all over again. A boggling mystery if Ione ever saw one.
“I can't even begin to imagine what caused it this time,” she commented. Ione tugged the collar of her borrowed cloak tighter around her neck, protecting herself against the chill of the late afternoon.
Leaves crunched beneath Gale's feet, not that he was trying for stealth. “Something to do with magic transferral,” he answered, and the humor faded. “I think he's working on something to combat the taint seeping out of the Flats.”
And just like that, the conversation shifted gears. Effectively driving Ione back into the discomfort of thoughts she’d been steadily avoiding.
“Have you ever seen them?” she asked after a moment.
“The Merihem or the Flats?”
“Both.” Ione watched as her breath puffed out in front of her.
Winter was still in full swing, even if these trips to the villages were becoming a thing of habit for Ione. She often accompanied Gale now, enough so that he didn't ask her anymore and expected it. Ione was glad to be free of the confines of Paragon. While comfortable, they made her feel trapped. She was too used to the semi-freedom of her earlier life
“Once,” Gale admitted. “I've fought the Merihem before. They’re an unfortunate occurrence the closer one lives to the Flats, but I've only actually neared the Flats themselves once.”
“And?”
“It was silent. You couldn't even feel the earth breathing.” He dragged fingers through his blond hair, sword shifting against his thigh. “It was just... dead. As if every living thing had been obliterated. I… It was the worst place I’ve ever been. It wasn’t empty, but at the same time, it was.”
Ione's breath caught at the mere thought of it. Something churned uneasily inside of her, nauseatingly strong. A place without life? Without a sound? She hoped to never see for herself. She hoped to never visit the place that birthed the Merihem.
“I hope he succeeds,” she murmured more to herself than to Gale. “Knowing my uncle, he'll do it.”
“If he doesn't blow up all of Paragon first,” Gale agreed, the offhand comment more amusing than he meant it to be.
Ione managed a chuckle. “Azriel lets Kieran do whatever he wants, doesn't he?”
“Have you tried telling your uncle that he can't do something?” Gale just tipped his head at her.
“Ah, you have a point.” She winced. “But still, Azriel's the boss, so he should make the rules.”
Gale scratched at the side of his face, green eyes bright with humor. “No one is Kieran's boss but Kieran. Though it’s amusing to watch Azriel try every now and then. I think he gave up trying to make Kieran see sense long ago.”
“They seem pretty close.” Ione tucked her chilled hands into the folds of her cloak, thinking what she wouldn't give for a warm mug of cider right now.
“From what I've been told, they went to Conservatory together. Along with your mother,” Gale explained. “Or at least, that’s what Azriel told me.”
Ione turned to glance at him. She’d known that her mother had gone to the Conservatory, that she’d worked in Grayshire for a time. But this was something she hadn’t heard before. Her mama had never mentioned Azriel, even in passing. But then, after Kieran's exile, to speak of her adoptive uncle wasn’t the wisest of things. Not outside and not even within the house. Souya especially had taken it hard.
“I pity their teachers,” Ione said then.
Gale just laughed. The sound of it echoed through the winter quiet.
He really had a nice laugh. It charmed and invited one to participate. Filled with honest amusement, rather than humoring for the sake of politeness. It widened his mouth, showed his teeth, made one eye crinkle up on the side, but he was still handsome anyway. Features even if a bit sharp. But he had dimples, such an odd thing really. Ione had never seen dimples on a man until she’s met Gale. She found herself fascinated by them. She wanted to touch them.
Ione blinked. And very slowly wondered what the hell was wrong with her.
However, Gale suddenly laughed again. He broke into another funny anecdote concerning her uncle, a failed experiment, and an odor that lingered for weeks.
Ione, for her part, felt her heart give a strange little jolt. Her belly twisted then but not in an unpleasant way. And even as she thought that she was coming down with something, the words of her dear friends echoed in the back of her mind. Ione couldn’t help but look at Gale. Really look at Gale since the first time she’d met him.
Aponi, who’d come on all their little outings since the disastrous one with Faye, had abandoned Ione’s ear since she’d found little room amidst the nest of scarves. She now sat on Gale's collar, tucked just under his jaw and nearly purring in content. Fenris walked between them, and Inari kept skittering around Ione's feet as though determined to trip her. But no, that was just her usual fount of energy because the vixen would skip over and do the same to Gale as well.
It was all just so… bizarrely familiar. No, not bizarre at all. Just normal. Just the way they’d done a handful of times before. Walking out to the villages together. She. Gale. Their familiars. Like a strange approximation of a human family. All together. All friendly and at ease.
And perhaps that last point was the one that stood out the most. Familiars tended not to be so familiar with anyone other than their own human. Ione had never seen Fenris react to another person as he did Gale. The wolf wouldn't even let Souya or Lilah touch him, her own parents. Not even Ophelia or Ryder or Raine or any of Ione's friends. But he'd allowed Azriel to pet him, and now, he often disappeared because he was scurrying around with Inari. And he spoke freely to Gale, treating him as an equal. As though he were someone Fenris also shared a bond.
But spirits just didn’t do that. Not normally. They didn’t randomly allow contact from other humans. The only real exceptions she knew were Azriel – and all of them seemed to love him – or people like her parents. Helene and Sabriel. Couples.
Ione’s brain stuttered.
She glanced at Gale again. The man was blabbering on about something as he gestured, nearly dislodging Aponi from her perch. His eyes were bright and vivid, face full of aristocratic features that historians would slaver over. Ione couldn't believe that he had been as unpopular as everyone seemed to hint to her. In Conservatory, the girls would’ve been falling over him left and right.
Alright, so he was a bit weird. Who wasn't? Ione herself wasn't exactly the epitome of normality. Or femininity either. But that didn't stop her from making friends. Besides, boys had always been afraid of her to a certain extent. Excluding Malcolm. But then, Malcolm hadn’t been a boy. He’d been a man. No, was. Malcolm was a man.
She refused to think of him as gone. At least, not yet.
Ione shook her head to dislodge those thoughts. Back to the matter at hand.
She looked at Gale again, and her eyes focused on her lips. That was normal. He was talking so she should be looking at him. Paying attention. Watching him. Not that it was something difficult to do. There were worst things to attract her attention.
Something twitched inside of her, and Ione pressed a hand to her belly. It felt like Aponi's cousins had taken residence within her, fluttering around as if they belonged there. Kind of like Aponi did when she’d shoved herself into Ione's life.
Her gaze tracked over Gale again. Watching the way his mouth moved. The way his lips curved to form words.
And an urge washed over her so suddenly, she had to fight to keep from acting on it.
She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to kiss him and shove her tongue into his mouth and rub her body against his. She wanted to taste his skin, to drag her tongue across his throat and watch him flush scarlet with embarrassment and arousal both. She wanted him to mouth her breast as she tugged her fingers through his hair and feel the heat of his eyes as he looked up at her. Ione wanted to drag her hands down what was sure to be a firm abdomen and take Gale between her lips, feel him throbbing on her tongue. She wanted to feel his weight pressing her down and wrap her legs around his waist, to also hover above him and feel him slide inside.
Ione wanted him.
And in a bad, bad way.
It was like a bolt of lightning. Only without the blinding pain and disorientation. Just the smell of ozone and the sudden flash of understanding as Ione came to an abrupt stop, words crashing like rampant staccato in her mind.
“I like you,” she said and repeated it again, as though confirming it with herself. “I like you.”
Mid-story, Gale stopped to look at her. “What?”
He tipped his head to the side as if he wasn’t certain he’d heard right. But there was a wary look to his eyes, like an animal trapped in the sights of a hungry hunter.
She flushed and cringed at the same time. “Ah, I said that out loud, didn't I?”
Gale chuckled a bit. But it was more nervous than she’d have suspected. High and jittery.
“Yes… Yes, you did.”
Ione hadn't intended on this sudden confession, but now seemed as good a time as any. And she never had been the type to go back on her words.
“Well, it's true,” she added and met his gaze unflinchingly. “I like you.”
He took a step closer to her, uncertainty dancing in his green eyes. “I think you're nice, too.”
Ione breathed out a gust of frustration.
Was he being purposefully obtuse? Or had Kieran been right? Was he really just that unsure?
This boy was never going to make the first move! It was both refreshing and frustrating all at once!
“That's not what I mean.” Ione inched closer without realizing it.
He took on an almost shifty-eyed look and lifted his shoulders helplessly. He tipped his head away to gaze at anything but her.
“Well, you like a lot of things. Chamomile. Oranges. History. The color green. Marshmallows and apple cider. But not together because that would be gross,” Gale babbled, dragging a hand through his white-blond hair. “And last time I checked, you liked the leaves in fall and the quiet of the library and--”
Ione kissed him. Effectively cutting off the stream of words that only further proved that he'd been paying attention. Been really paying attention. That he obviously liked her in return.
Her lips fell over his, briefly thinking that they tasted of the clover he had been sucking on. The kiss was brief, more like an interruption than an embrace. A soft brush of her mouth on his before she pulled back.
Gale was frozen. His eyes stared at her in stunned amazement. She saw his tongue drag across his lips, and Ione couldn't help it. She leaned up to kiss him again, feeling the weight of his hands falling across her shoulders. Her lips pressed against his. And finally, he stirred. His mouth parted only to have a sharp jab of teeth stab into her lips.
Had he just…? He’d just bitten her. Of all things, he bit her. On the mouth.
Ione abruptly pulled back. She lifted a hand to her mouth, and her fingers probed the now sore spot on the bottom lip. She looked up at him with something between shock and confusion with a twinge of hurt thrown in.
“Was that… a rejection?” she asked with disbelief. Even as her tongue poked at the sore spot where she could still feel the pressure of his teeth.
His eyes widened to impossible size. “NO! No. I’m sorry.”
And to her amusement, a hearty flush spread across his cheeks to his forehead and around to his neck. Burning so hot that she could practically feel the heat of it.
“No,” he repeated yet again, fingers flexing spasmodically on her shoulders. “I was just... surprised. I wasn’t… I didn’t mean…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Please try again. I'll do better this time.”
“The whole confession?” Ione asked with an arched brow. She was enjoying this far, far too much. It was all so very cute.
“Just… ah… just the part with the kiss is good enough,” Gale said, stumbling over the words.
“Are you sure about that?” Ione questioned wickedly, unable to stop herself. “I mean, I want you to be prepared. It’s not every day that I get bitten on the mouth, and I can’t say that I liked it.”
If anything, that only made the red on his face deepen to a near purple.
“I’m sure,” he managed after a moment.
Feeling all too naughty, Ione couldn't help but grin. She should have known it wouldn't be the stuff of fairy tales. Not that she'd ever liked those anyway. They were just too boring and predictable. And the women were downright nauseating.
“Alright,” she allowed, tilting her chin up. “But you’d better not bite me again.”
“Duly noted,” Gale replied.
And then, Ione's mouth was there. Covering his. Her lips pressed against his and nudged in all the right ways.
It was even better this time because he participated, hand sliding around to her back and tugging her against him. Ione was glad there wasn’t much difference in height because she didn't have to rise on her toes; she could just throw an arm around his neck, pull him closer, and try to swallow his tonsils. He tasted sweet and good, and Gale made a sound in the back of his throat that tightened something inside her belly.
Ione wanted to climb him, here and now. She wanted to push him back against the nearby tree and have her way with him. It must’ve been the months of celibacy attacking her because normally, she wasn't so edacious. At least this early in the relationship. But when she pressed against him and their bodies molded in all the right places, all Ione could think about was dragging her palms up the front of his chest and listening to that tiny hitch in his breathing over and over.
And her hand crept to the edge of his overshirt. Threatening to slip under.
Until that was, Fenris headbutted her in the kneecaps. They buckled beneath her, and it was only Gale’s hand on her back that kept her upright. Their kiss ended with a smack of her lips and a startled expression.
Ione turned to glare at the wolf sitting smugly by her feet. She lifted one leg to kick at him.
“Time and place,” Fenris reminded her then with an amused twitch of his tail.
“Not in the forest,” Inari hissed, staring up at the both of them with disapproving yet pleased lupine eyes. “Anyone could see. Anyone.”
Ione blinked. Oh, right. They were still in the forest, weren't they? With possible Brigade patrols around any corner and the sky threatening rain. Not snow but frigid and freezing rain.
Gale blinked himself. And promptly flushed red again and grinned like a damn fool both. He fell back, reluctantly releasing her, and lifting a hand to scratch at the side of his nose. His gaze skipped around the forest, fell on her, and then returned to the snow-dusted trees. Only to repeat the process all over again.
“We should get going,” he agreed though he didn't sound like he meant it. He wanted to keep kissing her, too.
At least the feeling was mutual. Ione wondered if she was also grinning like an idiot.
“Yeah,” she agreed with a vague nod, dragging her tongue over her lips where his taste continued to linger. “It's going to rain soon. Maybe.”
Gale made a noise and started forward. He walked in a way that suspiciously resembled a daze, still smiling like a loon. And Ione quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him to the side before he wandered into that huge and prickly tree. Thorns in the eye were not a good thing.
His fingers squeezed hers, and Ione didn't let go. Best not to let him collide into anything else. Just for safety’s sake of course.
***
If was as if floodgates had been opened. Everywhere Gale was, Ione suddenly wanted to be. She wanted to grope him when no one was looking, or even if they were, she didn't care. She wanted to drag him into a dark corner and stick her tongue down his throat. She wanted to peel back the layers to see what he looked like beneath his clothes. And she knew for a fact that Azriel had noticed because he kept giving her knowing glances. So did Kieran, but she was better at ignoring his.
She felt voracious, starved, and the only thing that could fill her was Gale's presence. It bothered her, this intense and sudden need to be around him. Ione had played around with men and boys before; she’d her share of acquaintances. But she’d never really bothered with that love-romance nonsense before because it’d been so unimportant in the face of other things. And now, it was attacking her as though she was a new recruit at the Conservatory. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and fully optimistic that anything and everything was possible.
It made her remember those carefree days when the early morning hours were filled with lessons upon lessons. Enough to make her ears bleed and eyes threaten to fall out of her skull. And the afternoons were packed with practical application, magic use and weapon play and working themselves into a fine frenzy. But the nights – oh, the nights – they were where freedom lay. At night, the students were turned helter-skelter into the world. Free to do as they wished up until curfew. And the students fully capitalized on that.
They’d just been minding their own business. On the way for a few drinks. When a black and gray blur had rocketed into Ophelia.
“I’m fine really,” she tried to reassure them. “It doesn’t hurt at-- Ow! Ow! Ow!”
“Careful, idiot.” Raine smacked Ryder on the shoulder.
“I’m trying,” he snapped back at her. “But in case you hadn’t noticed, she’s bleeding.”
“And I suppose that all this yelling helps matters,” Ghaith inserted loftily. He was at the back of the group. The only one who hadn’t immediately surrounded Ophelia.
They ignored him.
“Let us see,” Anisa inserted, snatching away Ryder’s hand and tipping Ophelia’s head to the light. “What do you think, Cade?”
“It’s small,” he said as he bent down to inspect the cut on her forehead further. “Barely more than a scratch. It’ll heal on its own in a few days.”
“Besides, her head’s hard,” Ione cut in from his other side. “That should’ve protected her just fine.”
Instead of huffing at the comment, Ophelia nodded. “It’s not so bad. Honest. I think he’s had a much worse time of it.”
She pointed between Ryder and Anisa to the crumbled form on the other side of the staircase, surrounded by scattered papers. Besides his clothes, all they could see of him – and Ione was guessing here – was the darkness of his hair. Which fell around his face in a mess of curls as he struggled to get up from his hands and knees. He was breathing hard from the effort, and Ione had the vague memory of Ophelia’s hard head hitting his chest as they tumbled over each other on the way down. He was just lucky she hadn’t landed on him. Especially since Ione would guess that Ophelia was taller and outweighed him by at least ten to twenty pounds. He couldn’t have been more than a kid. A teenager like them. And Ophelia wasn’t exactly tall to start with.
“Hey, kid!” Ione said then. “Are you alright?”
“He’s probably knocked himself out,” Ryder muttered, still kneeling down next to Ophelia. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it. Slamming into people like that.”
Raine elbowed him again. “Be quiet. It was an accident. It’s not like he did it on purpose.”
“That remains to be seen,” Ghaith snipped as he pushed up his glasses. He looked a bit like his much older brother Kieran when he did that, but that was where the resemblance ended. Kieran was nice, and Ghaith… well, he wasn’t.
Ryder shot him a dirty look. He was on the verge of retorting when Ione moved next to him. She strode over to the boy still on the ground, bending down with one hand on her hip and the other reaching out to help him.
“You okay there?” she questioned, just cocking her head when he finally looked up at her.
Just as she suspected, he had a boyish face. Rounded cheeks and almost pouty lips. He looked like one of those dolls the noble girls so loved. Pale skin and darkish hair in ringlets and blue, blue eyes. Fragile. Like he’d break if she so much as scowled at him.
“I’m… fine,” he wheezed, fingers rubbing at an obviously sore spot on his sternum. Likely where Ophelia had impacted.
“You’re sure?” Ione posed it as a question. Since really, he didn’t look alright at all.
The boy cringed like a kicked dog. As if he expected her to backhand him or something along those lines. Not that Ione would’ve. She preferred opponents who could fight back. This kid looked like a good puff of wind would blow him away.
“I’m sure, Master.” He hovered closer to the floor. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. And I’m sorry for hurting the lady. I didn’t mean it.”
Ione could feel her eyebrows rising to meet her hairline. “I’m no master. And I’m sure you didn’t. And you can tell the lady that yourself. But you seem worse off than her.”
He made a noise of distress at that and scrambled to his feet, giving Ione her first real chance to study him from the neck down. The boy looked like a page, a message runner for one of the lords. And judging by the small crest on his collar, likely the cause of Ophelia’s cut, Ione was willing to bet he worked for the Wyndham family. If Malcolm had been here, he might’ve been able to identify the kid at least. Though maybe it was better that he wasn’t. It would probably just embarrass the boy more to be caught by his boss’ grandson accidentally assaulting people.
But by this time, Ophelia was already standing again, too. She didn’t even so much as wobble as she walked over to him with a grin. Not that the boy saw since he’d immediately lowered his head and hunched his shoulders.
“Hi there,” the redhead greeted cheerily. “I’m Ophelia. Ophelia Brooke.”
“Uh… Hayden March.” He rubbed the back of his head and stared at the ground some more. “I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t see you back there.”He gave her a short almost bow.
“Eh heh… I actually think it was my fault,” Ophelia admitted. “You see… I wasn’t really looking either, but I’m pretty sure that I shoved into you first. So don’t worry about it.”
“But I…” Hayden shifted on his feet. “Okay.”
“Okay,” she parroted and bent down so that they were eye level. “It was nice meeting you. Except for the whole stairs part.” Ophelia giggled as if she’d just told a joke.
A pair of blue eyes darted to her face then, and something like a furious blush stole over his face. He just gazed at her like she’d grown another head, but that shifted when she glanced at him in return. Ophelia looked at Hayden. Hayden looked at Ophelia. Ione could swear that little hearts and sparkles filled the air. There was even music in the background. Though that could’ve been old man Tangle again; he did practice in his office around this time every day.
“Er…”
In, the background, Ryder glanced from Ophelia to Hayden and back. Raine lifted one eyebrow. And then the other. She watched them for a moment and then gave a girly sigh. Cade and Anisa traded a look and wisely remained silent. Ghaith just rolled his eyes. Neither Hayden nor Ophelia seemed to notice. They kept staring at each other until Ione loudly cleared her throat.
“Oh… Oh!” Ophelia waved her hands. “Sorry. Forgot myself for a moment.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at her friends, who were all looking at her expectantly. “So I guess I’ll be going now. We’re supposed to meet some people at Malley’s. Unless you’d you like to come with us?” she invited without even a second’s hesitation.
“Um… I…” He stuttered as she leaned in closer but then turned away. “No thank you. I have to deliver these to High Lord Celestine. And… Ah!”
Hayden just now seemed to have noticed the state of his papers, which were scattered everywhere around them. He hurriedly bent down to retrieve it all, shoving everything into only the vaguest sense of order. He was still working hurriedly a few moments later, searching for a page, merely to glance up in alarm at the sudden legs in front of him. Ophelia just smiled and held out the stack she’d collected while he wasn’t looking. Hayden gulped and very slowly reached for the papers in her hands, but she unexpectedly pulled them back.
“This sure seems like a lot for once person,” the girl commented as she studied the stack for a second. “How about I come with you? It’ll be much easier for two people to carry these.”
She said it all so easily. So cheerfully. Like it was an everyday thing. For her to go flying down the stairs all but tangled up in a stranger and then to help him afterwards.
Of course, this was Ophelia after all. Perhaps it was.
Hayden swallowed hard. “Um…” His eyes flickered to the other people in the group before landing on her again, but she kept smiling. “I think your friends are waiting for you.”
“I can catch up with them later.” The redhead paused to tap her finger on her chin, tucking the papers in her chest. “And you can come with me, too. I’ll even buy you a drink. It’s the least I can do for knocking you down the stairs.”
He went from one foot to the other, practically dancing on the spot. His gaze darted around as if looking for an escape but finding none forthcoming. And his hand tightened on the papers he’d managed to pick up. But finally, after almost a full two minutes, he spoke again.
“Alright.”
Ophelia just beamed. “Great!” She grabbed his elbow before he even had time to reconsider and started him along back up the stairs. “We’ll catch up with you guys later,” she called to her friends.
They just watched her go. Raine and Ryder traded a long glance. Anisa looked after their friend with a frown on her face and slanted eyes narrowed behind her glasses. Cade shifted his feet. Ghaith gave an almost a chastising huff and crossed his arms over his chest. Ione simply grinned and motioned for them to head their original direction. They slowly followed along.
And behind them, they heard Ophelia laugh.
“Ione?”
She stirred from her musings to notice that Gale was giving her a strange look. Considering that she'd all but blanked out in the middle of their lunch together, it was to be expected.
She flushed sheepishly and shoved a forkful of noodles into her mouth. “Just reminiscing,” Ione said around the mouthful, waving her fork in the air for emphasis.
“Must be some memory.” Gale arched a brow, and she could tell that he was curious.
Ione shrugged. “Schooldays. I was remembering how Ophelia and Hayden met. Way back then. And now, they're getting married. It's like... that happened so fast. Only it didn't because they've known each other for almost a decade now.”
Well, more like nine years and a month, but who was counting.
And now, Ione was here. Sitting across the table from a man she legitimately liked, having lunch like it was the most normal thing in the world. Which it was. Except for the lust Ione had stirring through her veins that prompted her to think dirty thoughts about the most innocent of things. Like those damn strawberries Gale consumed by the dozen and kept loving with his mouth. How unfair of him to tease her like that.
“A decade is a long time,” Gale agreed, juice running down his chin before he caught it with his tongue.
Ione wanted to lick it off, too. And she didn't even like strawberries. That was the craziest thing about it. She didn’t like them, but she’d do just about anything to run her tongue along the path of that juice. To crawl over the table and into his lap. To—
“Ahem.” Someone coughed to get their attention.
Ione reluctantly drew her eyes from the tantalizing drip of strawberry, finding Ishmael shifting uncomfortably just to her left. He glanced from Gale to her and back, and his shoulders straightened perceptibly. Socially awkward didn't even begin to describe the kid. Ione would’ve almost felt sorry for him, except that she'd seen Ishmael sparring. He was a terror to behold then, boyish face firm and aether like a whip. Ione was pretty sure that Ishmael could kick her ass. Even on an off day. And wouldn’t that be embarrassing?
“Yes?” Gale said, sounding vaguely annoyed.
Ishmael didn't look too happy to be playing messenger boy either. His sharp eyes were narrowed even more than normal.
“Lord Azriel wishes for Miss Tegan’s presence,” Ishmael said in his normal emotionless tone. “The team from the Flats has returned.”
Ione quirked one brow, interest in her food forgotten. “What team?”
It was Gale's turn to shift, gaze on everyone but her. He even tilted his head up to further keep his eyes from view.
“Azriel sent a small group out to the Flats not long after talking to you,” he replied in an almost sheepish way. “We didn't tell you because we didn't want to get your hopes up.”
That didn’t make any sense at all. Why would Ione have any hopes? The Flats had nothing...
Ione stilled then, hand falling to the table. And everything dawned on her in crystal clear clarity. She remembered a conversation all that time ago and worrying about afterward.
Team.
Varos Flats.
Malcolm.
* * * * *
Series: Infinity's End, Book One
Summary: Ione makes a difficult decision when her allies call for her imprisonment, forcing her to flee for her life. In the hands of the Theravada, she meets Gale Arlen, rumored leader of the rebels, and learns what it truly means to choose a side.
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22)
Chapter Seventeen
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“By the time I arrived, purple smoke was billowing into the hallway,” Gale said, gesturing widely with his hands.
Ione snickered and shook her head. Imagining her uncle's lab as it blew up yet again was not something difficult to do. It really did seem to be a weekly occurrence. And yet, Azriel never grew angry. He just rebuilt, listened to Kieran whine, and watched him do it all over again. A boggling mystery if Ione ever saw one.
“I can't even begin to imagine what caused it this time,” she commented. Ione tugged the collar of her borrowed cloak tighter around her neck, protecting herself against the chill of the late afternoon.
Leaves crunched beneath Gale's feet, not that he was trying for stealth. “Something to do with magic transferral,” he answered, and the humor faded. “I think he's working on something to combat the taint seeping out of the Flats.”
And just like that, the conversation shifted gears. Effectively driving Ione back into the discomfort of thoughts she’d been steadily avoiding.
“Have you ever seen them?” she asked after a moment.
“The Merihem or the Flats?”
“Both.” Ione watched as her breath puffed out in front of her.
Winter was still in full swing, even if these trips to the villages were becoming a thing of habit for Ione. She often accompanied Gale now, enough so that he didn't ask her anymore and expected it. Ione was glad to be free of the confines of Paragon. While comfortable, they made her feel trapped. She was too used to the semi-freedom of her earlier life
“Once,” Gale admitted. “I've fought the Merihem before. They’re an unfortunate occurrence the closer one lives to the Flats, but I've only actually neared the Flats themselves once.”
“And?”
“It was silent. You couldn't even feel the earth breathing.” He dragged fingers through his blond hair, sword shifting against his thigh. “It was just... dead. As if every living thing had been obliterated. I… It was the worst place I’ve ever been. It wasn’t empty, but at the same time, it was.”
Ione's breath caught at the mere thought of it. Something churned uneasily inside of her, nauseatingly strong. A place without life? Without a sound? She hoped to never see for herself. She hoped to never visit the place that birthed the Merihem.
“I hope he succeeds,” she murmured more to herself than to Gale. “Knowing my uncle, he'll do it.”
“If he doesn't blow up all of Paragon first,” Gale agreed, the offhand comment more amusing than he meant it to be.
Ione managed a chuckle. “Azriel lets Kieran do whatever he wants, doesn't he?”
“Have you tried telling your uncle that he can't do something?” Gale just tipped his head at her.
“Ah, you have a point.” She winced. “But still, Azriel's the boss, so he should make the rules.”
Gale scratched at the side of his face, green eyes bright with humor. “No one is Kieran's boss but Kieran. Though it’s amusing to watch Azriel try every now and then. I think he gave up trying to make Kieran see sense long ago.”
“They seem pretty close.” Ione tucked her chilled hands into the folds of her cloak, thinking what she wouldn't give for a warm mug of cider right now.
“From what I've been told, they went to Conservatory together. Along with your mother,” Gale explained. “Or at least, that’s what Azriel told me.”
Ione turned to glance at him. She’d known that her mother had gone to the Conservatory, that she’d worked in Grayshire for a time. But this was something she hadn’t heard before. Her mama had never mentioned Azriel, even in passing. But then, after Kieran's exile, to speak of her adoptive uncle wasn’t the wisest of things. Not outside and not even within the house. Souya especially had taken it hard.
“I pity their teachers,” Ione said then.
Gale just laughed. The sound of it echoed through the winter quiet.
He really had a nice laugh. It charmed and invited one to participate. Filled with honest amusement, rather than humoring for the sake of politeness. It widened his mouth, showed his teeth, made one eye crinkle up on the side, but he was still handsome anyway. Features even if a bit sharp. But he had dimples, such an odd thing really. Ione had never seen dimples on a man until she’s met Gale. She found herself fascinated by them. She wanted to touch them.
Ione blinked. And very slowly wondered what the hell was wrong with her.
However, Gale suddenly laughed again. He broke into another funny anecdote concerning her uncle, a failed experiment, and an odor that lingered for weeks.
Ione, for her part, felt her heart give a strange little jolt. Her belly twisted then but not in an unpleasant way. And even as she thought that she was coming down with something, the words of her dear friends echoed in the back of her mind. Ione couldn’t help but look at Gale. Really look at Gale since the first time she’d met him.
Aponi, who’d come on all their little outings since the disastrous one with Faye, had abandoned Ione’s ear since she’d found little room amidst the nest of scarves. She now sat on Gale's collar, tucked just under his jaw and nearly purring in content. Fenris walked between them, and Inari kept skittering around Ione's feet as though determined to trip her. But no, that was just her usual fount of energy because the vixen would skip over and do the same to Gale as well.
It was all just so… bizarrely familiar. No, not bizarre at all. Just normal. Just the way they’d done a handful of times before. Walking out to the villages together. She. Gale. Their familiars. Like a strange approximation of a human family. All together. All friendly and at ease.
And perhaps that last point was the one that stood out the most. Familiars tended not to be so familiar with anyone other than their own human. Ione had never seen Fenris react to another person as he did Gale. The wolf wouldn't even let Souya or Lilah touch him, her own parents. Not even Ophelia or Ryder or Raine or any of Ione's friends. But he'd allowed Azriel to pet him, and now, he often disappeared because he was scurrying around with Inari. And he spoke freely to Gale, treating him as an equal. As though he were someone Fenris also shared a bond.
But spirits just didn’t do that. Not normally. They didn’t randomly allow contact from other humans. The only real exceptions she knew were Azriel – and all of them seemed to love him – or people like her parents. Helene and Sabriel. Couples.
Ione’s brain stuttered.
She glanced at Gale again. The man was blabbering on about something as he gestured, nearly dislodging Aponi from her perch. His eyes were bright and vivid, face full of aristocratic features that historians would slaver over. Ione couldn't believe that he had been as unpopular as everyone seemed to hint to her. In Conservatory, the girls would’ve been falling over him left and right.
Alright, so he was a bit weird. Who wasn't? Ione herself wasn't exactly the epitome of normality. Or femininity either. But that didn't stop her from making friends. Besides, boys had always been afraid of her to a certain extent. Excluding Malcolm. But then, Malcolm hadn’t been a boy. He’d been a man. No, was. Malcolm was a man.
She refused to think of him as gone. At least, not yet.
Ione shook her head to dislodge those thoughts. Back to the matter at hand.
She looked at Gale again, and her eyes focused on her lips. That was normal. He was talking so she should be looking at him. Paying attention. Watching him. Not that it was something difficult to do. There were worst things to attract her attention.
Something twitched inside of her, and Ione pressed a hand to her belly. It felt like Aponi's cousins had taken residence within her, fluttering around as if they belonged there. Kind of like Aponi did when she’d shoved herself into Ione's life.
Her gaze tracked over Gale again. Watching the way his mouth moved. The way his lips curved to form words.
And an urge washed over her so suddenly, she had to fight to keep from acting on it.
She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to kiss him and shove her tongue into his mouth and rub her body against his. She wanted to taste his skin, to drag her tongue across his throat and watch him flush scarlet with embarrassment and arousal both. She wanted him to mouth her breast as she tugged her fingers through his hair and feel the heat of his eyes as he looked up at her. Ione wanted to drag her hands down what was sure to be a firm abdomen and take Gale between her lips, feel him throbbing on her tongue. She wanted to feel his weight pressing her down and wrap her legs around his waist, to also hover above him and feel him slide inside.
Ione wanted him.
And in a bad, bad way.
It was like a bolt of lightning. Only without the blinding pain and disorientation. Just the smell of ozone and the sudden flash of understanding as Ione came to an abrupt stop, words crashing like rampant staccato in her mind.
“I like you,” she said and repeated it again, as though confirming it with herself. “I like you.”
Mid-story, Gale stopped to look at her. “What?”
He tipped his head to the side as if he wasn’t certain he’d heard right. But there was a wary look to his eyes, like an animal trapped in the sights of a hungry hunter.
She flushed and cringed at the same time. “Ah, I said that out loud, didn't I?”
Gale chuckled a bit. But it was more nervous than she’d have suspected. High and jittery.
“Yes… Yes, you did.”
Ione hadn't intended on this sudden confession, but now seemed as good a time as any. And she never had been the type to go back on her words.
“Well, it's true,” she added and met his gaze unflinchingly. “I like you.”
He took a step closer to her, uncertainty dancing in his green eyes. “I think you're nice, too.”
Ione breathed out a gust of frustration.
Was he being purposefully obtuse? Or had Kieran been right? Was he really just that unsure?
This boy was never going to make the first move! It was both refreshing and frustrating all at once!
“That's not what I mean.” Ione inched closer without realizing it.
He took on an almost shifty-eyed look and lifted his shoulders helplessly. He tipped his head away to gaze at anything but her.
“Well, you like a lot of things. Chamomile. Oranges. History. The color green. Marshmallows and apple cider. But not together because that would be gross,” Gale babbled, dragging a hand through his white-blond hair. “And last time I checked, you liked the leaves in fall and the quiet of the library and--”
Ione kissed him. Effectively cutting off the stream of words that only further proved that he'd been paying attention. Been really paying attention. That he obviously liked her in return.
Her lips fell over his, briefly thinking that they tasted of the clover he had been sucking on. The kiss was brief, more like an interruption than an embrace. A soft brush of her mouth on his before she pulled back.
Gale was frozen. His eyes stared at her in stunned amazement. She saw his tongue drag across his lips, and Ione couldn't help it. She leaned up to kiss him again, feeling the weight of his hands falling across her shoulders. Her lips pressed against his. And finally, he stirred. His mouth parted only to have a sharp jab of teeth stab into her lips.
Had he just…? He’d just bitten her. Of all things, he bit her. On the mouth.
Ione abruptly pulled back. She lifted a hand to her mouth, and her fingers probed the now sore spot on the bottom lip. She looked up at him with something between shock and confusion with a twinge of hurt thrown in.
“Was that… a rejection?” she asked with disbelief. Even as her tongue poked at the sore spot where she could still feel the pressure of his teeth.
His eyes widened to impossible size. “NO! No. I’m sorry.”
And to her amusement, a hearty flush spread across his cheeks to his forehead and around to his neck. Burning so hot that she could practically feel the heat of it.
“No,” he repeated yet again, fingers flexing spasmodically on her shoulders. “I was just... surprised. I wasn’t… I didn’t mean…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Please try again. I'll do better this time.”
“The whole confession?” Ione asked with an arched brow. She was enjoying this far, far too much. It was all so very cute.
“Just… ah… just the part with the kiss is good enough,” Gale said, stumbling over the words.
“Are you sure about that?” Ione questioned wickedly, unable to stop herself. “I mean, I want you to be prepared. It’s not every day that I get bitten on the mouth, and I can’t say that I liked it.”
If anything, that only made the red on his face deepen to a near purple.
“I’m sure,” he managed after a moment.
Feeling all too naughty, Ione couldn't help but grin. She should have known it wouldn't be the stuff of fairy tales. Not that she'd ever liked those anyway. They were just too boring and predictable. And the women were downright nauseating.
“Alright,” she allowed, tilting her chin up. “But you’d better not bite me again.”
“Duly noted,” Gale replied.
And then, Ione's mouth was there. Covering his. Her lips pressed against his and nudged in all the right ways.
It was even better this time because he participated, hand sliding around to her back and tugging her against him. Ione was glad there wasn’t much difference in height because she didn't have to rise on her toes; she could just throw an arm around his neck, pull him closer, and try to swallow his tonsils. He tasted sweet and good, and Gale made a sound in the back of his throat that tightened something inside her belly.
Ione wanted to climb him, here and now. She wanted to push him back against the nearby tree and have her way with him. It must’ve been the months of celibacy attacking her because normally, she wasn't so edacious. At least this early in the relationship. But when she pressed against him and their bodies molded in all the right places, all Ione could think about was dragging her palms up the front of his chest and listening to that tiny hitch in his breathing over and over.
And her hand crept to the edge of his overshirt. Threatening to slip under.
Until that was, Fenris headbutted her in the kneecaps. They buckled beneath her, and it was only Gale’s hand on her back that kept her upright. Their kiss ended with a smack of her lips and a startled expression.
Ione turned to glare at the wolf sitting smugly by her feet. She lifted one leg to kick at him.
“Time and place,” Fenris reminded her then with an amused twitch of his tail.
“Not in the forest,” Inari hissed, staring up at the both of them with disapproving yet pleased lupine eyes. “Anyone could see. Anyone.”
Ione blinked. Oh, right. They were still in the forest, weren't they? With possible Brigade patrols around any corner and the sky threatening rain. Not snow but frigid and freezing rain.
Gale blinked himself. And promptly flushed red again and grinned like a damn fool both. He fell back, reluctantly releasing her, and lifting a hand to scratch at the side of his nose. His gaze skipped around the forest, fell on her, and then returned to the snow-dusted trees. Only to repeat the process all over again.
“We should get going,” he agreed though he didn't sound like he meant it. He wanted to keep kissing her, too.
At least the feeling was mutual. Ione wondered if she was also grinning like an idiot.
“Yeah,” she agreed with a vague nod, dragging her tongue over her lips where his taste continued to linger. “It's going to rain soon. Maybe.”
Gale made a noise and started forward. He walked in a way that suspiciously resembled a daze, still smiling like a loon. And Ione quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him to the side before he wandered into that huge and prickly tree. Thorns in the eye were not a good thing.
His fingers squeezed hers, and Ione didn't let go. Best not to let him collide into anything else. Just for safety’s sake of course.
If was as if floodgates had been opened. Everywhere Gale was, Ione suddenly wanted to be. She wanted to grope him when no one was looking, or even if they were, she didn't care. She wanted to drag him into a dark corner and stick her tongue down his throat. She wanted to peel back the layers to see what he looked like beneath his clothes. And she knew for a fact that Azriel had noticed because he kept giving her knowing glances. So did Kieran, but she was better at ignoring his.
She felt voracious, starved, and the only thing that could fill her was Gale's presence. It bothered her, this intense and sudden need to be around him. Ione had played around with men and boys before; she’d her share of acquaintances. But she’d never really bothered with that love-romance nonsense before because it’d been so unimportant in the face of other things. And now, it was attacking her as though she was a new recruit at the Conservatory. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and fully optimistic that anything and everything was possible.
It made her remember those carefree days when the early morning hours were filled with lessons upon lessons. Enough to make her ears bleed and eyes threaten to fall out of her skull. And the afternoons were packed with practical application, magic use and weapon play and working themselves into a fine frenzy. But the nights – oh, the nights – they were where freedom lay. At night, the students were turned helter-skelter into the world. Free to do as they wished up until curfew. And the students fully capitalized on that.
They’d just been minding their own business. On the way for a few drinks. When a black and gray blur had rocketed into Ophelia.
“I’m fine really,” she tried to reassure them. “It doesn’t hurt at-- Ow! Ow! Ow!”
“Careful, idiot.” Raine smacked Ryder on the shoulder.
“I’m trying,” he snapped back at her. “But in case you hadn’t noticed, she’s bleeding.”
“And I suppose that all this yelling helps matters,” Ghaith inserted loftily. He was at the back of the group. The only one who hadn’t immediately surrounded Ophelia.
They ignored him.
“Let us see,” Anisa inserted, snatching away Ryder’s hand and tipping Ophelia’s head to the light. “What do you think, Cade?”
“It’s small,” he said as he bent down to inspect the cut on her forehead further. “Barely more than a scratch. It’ll heal on its own in a few days.”
“Besides, her head’s hard,” Ione cut in from his other side. “That should’ve protected her just fine.”
Instead of huffing at the comment, Ophelia nodded. “It’s not so bad. Honest. I think he’s had a much worse time of it.”
She pointed between Ryder and Anisa to the crumbled form on the other side of the staircase, surrounded by scattered papers. Besides his clothes, all they could see of him – and Ione was guessing here – was the darkness of his hair. Which fell around his face in a mess of curls as he struggled to get up from his hands and knees. He was breathing hard from the effort, and Ione had the vague memory of Ophelia’s hard head hitting his chest as they tumbled over each other on the way down. He was just lucky she hadn’t landed on him. Especially since Ione would guess that Ophelia was taller and outweighed him by at least ten to twenty pounds. He couldn’t have been more than a kid. A teenager like them. And Ophelia wasn’t exactly tall to start with.
“Hey, kid!” Ione said then. “Are you alright?”
“He’s probably knocked himself out,” Ryder muttered, still kneeling down next to Ophelia. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it. Slamming into people like that.”
Raine elbowed him again. “Be quiet. It was an accident. It’s not like he did it on purpose.”
“That remains to be seen,” Ghaith snipped as he pushed up his glasses. He looked a bit like his much older brother Kieran when he did that, but that was where the resemblance ended. Kieran was nice, and Ghaith… well, he wasn’t.
Ryder shot him a dirty look. He was on the verge of retorting when Ione moved next to him. She strode over to the boy still on the ground, bending down with one hand on her hip and the other reaching out to help him.
“You okay there?” she questioned, just cocking her head when he finally looked up at her.
Just as she suspected, he had a boyish face. Rounded cheeks and almost pouty lips. He looked like one of those dolls the noble girls so loved. Pale skin and darkish hair in ringlets and blue, blue eyes. Fragile. Like he’d break if she so much as scowled at him.
“I’m… fine,” he wheezed, fingers rubbing at an obviously sore spot on his sternum. Likely where Ophelia had impacted.
“You’re sure?” Ione posed it as a question. Since really, he didn’t look alright at all.
The boy cringed like a kicked dog. As if he expected her to backhand him or something along those lines. Not that Ione would’ve. She preferred opponents who could fight back. This kid looked like a good puff of wind would blow him away.
“I’m sure, Master.” He hovered closer to the floor. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. And I’m sorry for hurting the lady. I didn’t mean it.”
Ione could feel her eyebrows rising to meet her hairline. “I’m no master. And I’m sure you didn’t. And you can tell the lady that yourself. But you seem worse off than her.”
He made a noise of distress at that and scrambled to his feet, giving Ione her first real chance to study him from the neck down. The boy looked like a page, a message runner for one of the lords. And judging by the small crest on his collar, likely the cause of Ophelia’s cut, Ione was willing to bet he worked for the Wyndham family. If Malcolm had been here, he might’ve been able to identify the kid at least. Though maybe it was better that he wasn’t. It would probably just embarrass the boy more to be caught by his boss’ grandson accidentally assaulting people.
But by this time, Ophelia was already standing again, too. She didn’t even so much as wobble as she walked over to him with a grin. Not that the boy saw since he’d immediately lowered his head and hunched his shoulders.
“Hi there,” the redhead greeted cheerily. “I’m Ophelia. Ophelia Brooke.”
“Uh… Hayden March.” He rubbed the back of his head and stared at the ground some more. “I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t see you back there.”He gave her a short almost bow.
“Eh heh… I actually think it was my fault,” Ophelia admitted. “You see… I wasn’t really looking either, but I’m pretty sure that I shoved into you first. So don’t worry about it.”
“But I…” Hayden shifted on his feet. “Okay.”
“Okay,” she parroted and bent down so that they were eye level. “It was nice meeting you. Except for the whole stairs part.” Ophelia giggled as if she’d just told a joke.
A pair of blue eyes darted to her face then, and something like a furious blush stole over his face. He just gazed at her like she’d grown another head, but that shifted when she glanced at him in return. Ophelia looked at Hayden. Hayden looked at Ophelia. Ione could swear that little hearts and sparkles filled the air. There was even music in the background. Though that could’ve been old man Tangle again; he did practice in his office around this time every day.
“Er…”
In, the background, Ryder glanced from Ophelia to Hayden and back. Raine lifted one eyebrow. And then the other. She watched them for a moment and then gave a girly sigh. Cade and Anisa traded a look and wisely remained silent. Ghaith just rolled his eyes. Neither Hayden nor Ophelia seemed to notice. They kept staring at each other until Ione loudly cleared her throat.
“Oh… Oh!” Ophelia waved her hands. “Sorry. Forgot myself for a moment.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at her friends, who were all looking at her expectantly. “So I guess I’ll be going now. We’re supposed to meet some people at Malley’s. Unless you’d you like to come with us?” she invited without even a second’s hesitation.
“Um… I…” He stuttered as she leaned in closer but then turned away. “No thank you. I have to deliver these to High Lord Celestine. And… Ah!”
Hayden just now seemed to have noticed the state of his papers, which were scattered everywhere around them. He hurriedly bent down to retrieve it all, shoving everything into only the vaguest sense of order. He was still working hurriedly a few moments later, searching for a page, merely to glance up in alarm at the sudden legs in front of him. Ophelia just smiled and held out the stack she’d collected while he wasn’t looking. Hayden gulped and very slowly reached for the papers in her hands, but she unexpectedly pulled them back.
“This sure seems like a lot for once person,” the girl commented as she studied the stack for a second. “How about I come with you? It’ll be much easier for two people to carry these.”
She said it all so easily. So cheerfully. Like it was an everyday thing. For her to go flying down the stairs all but tangled up in a stranger and then to help him afterwards.
Of course, this was Ophelia after all. Perhaps it was.
Hayden swallowed hard. “Um…” His eyes flickered to the other people in the group before landing on her again, but she kept smiling. “I think your friends are waiting for you.”
“I can catch up with them later.” The redhead paused to tap her finger on her chin, tucking the papers in her chest. “And you can come with me, too. I’ll even buy you a drink. It’s the least I can do for knocking you down the stairs.”
He went from one foot to the other, practically dancing on the spot. His gaze darted around as if looking for an escape but finding none forthcoming. And his hand tightened on the papers he’d managed to pick up. But finally, after almost a full two minutes, he spoke again.
“Alright.”
Ophelia just beamed. “Great!” She grabbed his elbow before he even had time to reconsider and started him along back up the stairs. “We’ll catch up with you guys later,” she called to her friends.
They just watched her go. Raine and Ryder traded a long glance. Anisa looked after their friend with a frown on her face and slanted eyes narrowed behind her glasses. Cade shifted his feet. Ghaith gave an almost a chastising huff and crossed his arms over his chest. Ione simply grinned and motioned for them to head their original direction. They slowly followed along.
And behind them, they heard Ophelia laugh.
“Ione?”
She stirred from her musings to notice that Gale was giving her a strange look. Considering that she'd all but blanked out in the middle of their lunch together, it was to be expected.
She flushed sheepishly and shoved a forkful of noodles into her mouth. “Just reminiscing,” Ione said around the mouthful, waving her fork in the air for emphasis.
“Must be some memory.” Gale arched a brow, and she could tell that he was curious.
Ione shrugged. “Schooldays. I was remembering how Ophelia and Hayden met. Way back then. And now, they're getting married. It's like... that happened so fast. Only it didn't because they've known each other for almost a decade now.”
Well, more like nine years and a month, but who was counting.
And now, Ione was here. Sitting across the table from a man she legitimately liked, having lunch like it was the most normal thing in the world. Which it was. Except for the lust Ione had stirring through her veins that prompted her to think dirty thoughts about the most innocent of things. Like those damn strawberries Gale consumed by the dozen and kept loving with his mouth. How unfair of him to tease her like that.
“A decade is a long time,” Gale agreed, juice running down his chin before he caught it with his tongue.
Ione wanted to lick it off, too. And she didn't even like strawberries. That was the craziest thing about it. She didn’t like them, but she’d do just about anything to run her tongue along the path of that juice. To crawl over the table and into his lap. To—
“Ahem.” Someone coughed to get their attention.
Ione reluctantly drew her eyes from the tantalizing drip of strawberry, finding Ishmael shifting uncomfortably just to her left. He glanced from Gale to her and back, and his shoulders straightened perceptibly. Socially awkward didn't even begin to describe the kid. Ione would’ve almost felt sorry for him, except that she'd seen Ishmael sparring. He was a terror to behold then, boyish face firm and aether like a whip. Ione was pretty sure that Ishmael could kick her ass. Even on an off day. And wouldn’t that be embarrassing?
“Yes?” Gale said, sounding vaguely annoyed.
Ishmael didn't look too happy to be playing messenger boy either. His sharp eyes were narrowed even more than normal.
“Lord Azriel wishes for Miss Tegan’s presence,” Ishmael said in his normal emotionless tone. “The team from the Flats has returned.”
Ione quirked one brow, interest in her food forgotten. “What team?”
It was Gale's turn to shift, gaze on everyone but her. He even tilted his head up to further keep his eyes from view.
“Azriel sent a small group out to the Flats not long after talking to you,” he replied in an almost sheepish way. “We didn't tell you because we didn't want to get your hopes up.”
That didn’t make any sense at all. Why would Ione have any hopes? The Flats had nothing...
Ione stilled then, hand falling to the table. And everything dawned on her in crystal clear clarity. She remembered a conversation all that time ago and worrying about afterward.
Team.
Varos Flats.
Malcolm.
a/n: Cliffhanger! Don't worry. You won't be on the edge of your seat for too much longer! I promise another chapter within two weeks time.
As always, feedback is appreciated.
As always, feedback is appreciated.
