I can’t be alone here. Thousands of people live within the city perimeter now. Entire streets are lit up like blinding stars. Sometimes I go to the rooftop and sit alone, staring beyond the borders of the City to the dark and familiar heights of the mountains.
Repairs are still underway in the far reaches of town, but even now, with my hands pressed against the soft mattress, I can barely make out the rumbling of the subway cars passing beneath the surface.
A name was voted on for this place not long after we began to settle in: Thalar. It means peace in Caldonian. An ill-fitting name in my opinion since we have seen little peace since we began our rebellion.
If only Bastien were here to see the changes. He would love to see the subway in action, I think, remembering how he had spent months living within the lifeless hull of a subway car, in the dark and alone.
“We’re home?” I ask, suppressing those memories.
I should have known from the first instant I caught the scent of smoke that seeps in through the open window beside my bed. It puffs in black clouds from the spider drones’ exhaust as they roam the streets, ever alert for attack. They make it nearly impossible to keep a window clean.
“Yes. Kyan thought it best for us to return after—”
“How?” I cut him off, rolling my head to the side to stare at the inky black of night on the other side of the window. I have never liked the medical wing. It is too white, too clean. Not to mention it is in the heart of the Shard and I don’t exactly have fond memories of the last time I was here. “How did we travel so quickly?”
Eamon clears his throat, fiddling with his fingers in his lap as I turn to stare at him, demanding an honest answer. “You were out for nearly a week.”
“A week?” I whisper, aghast at the amount of time that has been stolen from me.
“Why?” Heat stains the tips of his ears and I know the answer without him answering. “Because Kyan knew I would refuse to leave on my own.”
“It was for your own good,” he insists, but we both know it’s a weak excuse and one that I’ve heard countless times before. I’ve lost count how many times in the past year they have done “the right thing” for me instead of letting me make my own choices.
“I hate it when he messes with my mind,” I grumble and tuck my hand under my head. Kyan’s ability goes beyond just reading minds and healing wounds. He has become rather practiced at inducing comas when they suit him, too.
The thick blanket that covers my lower half feels stifling compared to the chill that clung to my body the night I passed out in Drakon’s base. Suffocating heat pumps steadily from a vent above my bed, staving off the frost that clings to the bottom of my window. My other hand hovers over the bandage that has been wrapped tightly over my abdomen. I grimace as I feel pain swell as I attempt to twist. “Why do I still hurt?”
Eamon’s hand tightens around mine, squeezing my fingers so hard my bones begin to grind together. “Carleon did his best to repair your wound after Bastien removed the shrapnel, but he could only do so much.”
“What about Kyan?”
His jaw clenches and heat rises from the collar of his black uniform. I can’t help but notice the stark difference between Bastien and him, how Eamon’s tousled mane of blond hair glows rich amber in the false lights. Bastien would be dark and coolly indifferent but admittedly handsome in his formfitting uniform. “He has been preoccupied…”
I don’t like the way Eamon trails off. “Were there many losses?”
He scrubs his hands over his face, his mouth downturned when he draws his hands away. A single nod brings tears to my eyes. “Many were lost to the fires. Others when we first infiltrated the base. No one could have known Vikesh would be there.”
“We should have.” I protest, clenching my eyes tightly against the surge of guilt. How many of those lives could have been spared if we’d had better intel? If Kyan had let me scout it out on my own first instead of insisting I remain behind? Darn his pride!
“And Bastien?” I ask, pinning my arms down by my sides. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”
“He returned to his base after the fighting was over,” he replies. His gaze looks flat, his expression hardened. “He had injured men to attend to as well.”
I knew this was bound to happen. Leave it to Bastien to swoop in at my time of dire need only to sneak back out again before things got too personal. I blow out a breath and roll my head to the side so Eamon can’t see the pain that needles at me, drawing fresh tears into my eyes.
“He saved you, Illyria. For that I am grateful.”