Chương 45: My Choice, My Consequences

POV: The Assistant, Nyx After Milo left the room, I found myself staring at the door, hoping for something I had no business hoping for. One second. Two. Three. Four. Five. Nothing. Though, I could hear them out there, his voice and hers, muffled through the wood, talking. Devils, I hate it when they talk. He's an idiot, she's an idiot, and the pair of them will circle the same subject for an hour without ever landing anywhere.

I don't know how many rounds of that they got through before they arrived at whatever they are now.... And what are they now, exactly? Fuck. I shut my eyes, shook my head hard, trying to physically dislodge the thought like it was something caught in the works. I pressed my fingers to my temples, rubbed at them, and let out a long breath. I knew this would be hard. I knew that before I signed up for any of it.

I did this by choice, my choice, for my own selfish reasons, understanding perfectly well that it would take me apart by degrees. And I'd managed, hadn't I? The first few days I'd managed fine. There was a wall between us and I kept it there, and that was fine. It was fine. I was getting good at it, even. Keep the distance. Step in only when it's genuinely necessary. For someone who isn't even supposed to be here, I thought I was doing rather well. But can I keep doing it? Should I? What do I even want out of this?

I thought about the Vision; the fragments Greg let me see after he'd put me back together, which he isn't supposed to do, and did anyway. I saw myself in a crater, wrecked, and I saw Milo drop to his knees beside me and gather me up off the ground, and I saw his face while he did it. The fear on it, raw and unhidden, mouth working around my name. And then the disbelief that followed, the way his expression came apart when I wouldn't wake, like something in him was failing in real time.

And then he'd looked up at Ywain, and every soft thing in his face had burned out of it at once. Watching it, everything came flooding back all at once, and I nearly lost myself entirely. That's him. Despite everything, that's still him. And also, at the very same time, he isn't. Not anymore. Being the one who has to hold both of those in her head is exhausting in a way I don't have a word for. I keep telling myself I should just walk away from all of it. Move on. Go and live my own life.

Leave behind all this stupid fluttering, gut-twisting, passive-aggressive nonsense that leads absolutely nowhere and never will. And then the chance came, and I couldn't take it. Greg had offered in the Afterport, a clean way out, and I turned it down faster than I'd known I was going to. I'm a mess. A selfish, ruined mess of a person who still wants what she wants even though she isn't allowed to want it, and who might not even let him have— The door creaked open.

"Nyx?" Him. I almost cursed inside my head. I opened my eyes, I hadn't realized I'd closed them, and snapped my head around.

"What? Why didn't you knock? Did all that sweet talk with the girl of your dreams fry what little brain you had? Took away your manners with it?" I don't know why it came out like that.

"Huh? I did knock. Like five times!" He looked genuinely baffled.

"You didn't answer, and I figured I should tell you this properly, so you don't misunderstand."

"Then say it quick. I'm tired."

"I'm going to Eremiah with Evelisse. Just for a bit."

"What for? Missing her pretty sister already?"

"What—no!" He actually recoiled.

"I'm not even going into the town. Evelisse just needs to speak with her sister. It won't take long." Sure it won't. You never do the thing you say you'll do here. You'll wander in there, invent some tremendously stupid justification for it, and then— No. Stop it. Stop. I don't get to be frustrated about that. Not anymore. I don't…have the right for that. I let the breath out of me.

"Fine. Whatever. It's not as though I'd notice if you didn't come back at all." He didn't answer straight away. When I glanced up, he was just looking at me.

"You know I wouldn't do that," he said.

"I'll be back. Few hours at most. Three? Four?" Tch. You just had to go and say something like that.

"Sure. Now get out." The door shut. I let myself fall backward onto the bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling. You know I wouldn't do that. I'll be back. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Fuck. POV: Evelisse Ardentia I had brought Astra up to the front of Milo's place. I hadn't wanted to leave her tied out in the open, not with the potential stray monsters wandering around; Shauna's tragedy had taught me to be way more careful with this.

I'm sorry, Shauna. The apology would always form whenever I had thought about something related to her death, caused partially by my own carelessness.

"So, what do horses eat?" Milo said, peering at Astra.

"Because I'm afraid all we've really got is fruit. Unless she just... eats grass? Regular grass?"

"Fruit is fine. Do you have a banana? She can take that straight from the hand." I led her around to the far side of the house, away from the clearing.

"Anything with seeds or a core needs those taken out first." She had shied badly at the sight of the Cerberus, so Milo had told the beast to take her human form instead. So that was who she was. Fascinating. Outside of dragonkin, there were vanishingly few creatures in this world capable of holding a second, human shape. Milo passed me a banana. I peeled it, broke it in half, and laid the piece flat across my open palm, fingers together, holding it steady beneath Astra's mouth.

She lipped it up with a soft huff of breath, working it in her teeth, and I ran my other hand down her neck while she chewed. The whole time, Milo was watching. Genuinely watching, leaning in slightly, eyes fixed, with an expression of open interest, like he'd never once in his life seen a horse eat anything. I couldn't help it. Something in my chest loosened, just a little.

"You still have one left, don't you?" I said.

"You can feed her, if you'd like." He blinked at me.

"Huh? Is that—is that allowed? Can she have two bananas in one day? Is that safe? Is that a normal horse amount?"

"Two is fine. No more than that." I fought down the corner of my mouth.

"It's been weeks since she last had one. She's earned it." He went and fetched a banana from a basket by the door, peeled it with tremendous care, and then stopped, holding it out at arm's length between two fingers like it might detonate.

"Okay. So. Do I just—""Flat hand," I said.

"Fingers together. Or she'll take one of them by accident."" Take one of—""Flat hand, Milo." He flattened his palm so aggressively that it went past flat and started bending backward. Astra leaned in, and he leaned back at exactly the same speed, so that the banana traveled steadily away from her, which she found unacceptable. She followed. He retreated further.

She stepped after him with a great deal of purpose, and Milo made a noise I could only describe as a squeak and thrust the banana at her face as though surrendering a hostage. Astra, unbothered, took it neatly out of his hand and began to chew. Milo stood very still, staring at his own palm.

"... Her mouth is really soft," he said, with the wonder of a man who had just discovered a new element. And I laughed. It got away from me before I could catch it, out loud, in the middle of everything. It surprised us both. Milo turned to look at me like he wasn't sure he was permitted to enjoy it, and I pressed my knuckles to my lips and looked away, and Astra went on chewing, entirely indifferent to the fact that the Dark Lord had just been thoroughly intimidated by a horse.

We ate a little more fruit before flying out to Eremiah. Milo asked whether I wanted to rest first. I said no. I was exhausted, but this couldn't wait. Leave it much longer and I might not be able to set foot in Eremiah at all. So we flew, and it was, once again, not what I would call comfortable. I gripped his back while he tore through the air, and by the time the town came into view my hair was a complete disaster. Same as the last two times. I had him set down a good distance out.

After what happened a day ago, half the town would recognize his face on sight. This might be the last time I'm allowed through those gates. I told him to wait somewhere out of the way, or, if he could shapeshift, to slip inside on his own. It turned out he couldn't. He said he'd wander the treeline and keep an eye on the gate for me. Which he shouldn't have to do. Standing watch on a gate for an uncertain amount of time, after already flying me here at a moment's notice, he had done enough.

I dug into my pouch and drew out a Distance Stone. Small, round, and smooth, a deep blue that caught the light like river-glass.

"What's this?" he asked.

"A Distance Stone." I pulled its twin from my other pocket.

"I have the pair. Once they're activated, each one glows when the other comes near." I tapped mine against his. A faint blue light kindled in the depths of both, building slowly until they were glowing steadily in our palms.

"The range is decent. If you stay in the general area and don't wander too far, it should be glowing, weaker than this, a few levels down, by the time I reach the town entrance." I closed his fingers around it.

"That way you won't have to stare at the gate every while." He turned it over, watching the light shift, with the expression of a child handed a new toy, which I found rather amusing, honestly. If a Distance Stone was enough to fascinate him, there was an entire world of trinkets, charms, and enchanted oddments waiting to blow his mind. Then I went into Eremiah; I got through the gate without trouble, and the moment I was inside, the ruin hit me all over again.

The Clasped Hands inn was blackened up its side, the timber charred through, though the ground floor looked largely intact. Further in, whole shopfronts had caved in on themselves, roofs collapsed, walls scorched down to the frames. Carts lay splintered where it had fallen. People were out working through it, hauling debris into carts, sweeping ash from the stones, patching what could be patched, moving with the grim, unhurried rhythm of people who know the job will take weeks.

Several of them saw me and called out greetings. Two or three asked whether I had managed to get word to Astrea, whether help was coming for the rebuilding; I told them things were being handled. Sis would have sent a letter to Astrea by now; I was sure of it. What worried me was whether that letter would be received properly. If I was about to be branded a traitor, what would happen to her? Would the Church condemn her for it? Would there be a price on her head as well, simply for being my blood?

I had few friends and fewer relatives. That, at least, was a mercy. But if sis suffered for something I had done, something she'd had no part in, I would not be able to live with it. That was why I had come. There's no road back for me now, but sis needs to know all of it, and we need to work out, quickly, how to keep her from paying for a choice she never made. I hurried through the streets to her house, and by luck I caught her just as she was stepping out the door, a basket of fruit balanced on one hip.

Bound for the temple, most likely, where the people who had lost their homes were sleeping. Her eyes found mine, and she lifted a hand and waved.

"Sis, I—" Then a second figure came out of the house behind her, carrying another basket. She saw me, and she stopped dead; the basket sagging in her grip, her lips parting around a breath, her eyes going wide and glassy, her whole body locking up as though she'd walked into a person she'd been told was dead.

"... Mel?"