Bactah caught him in the hallway outside. “Feeling better? You were an absolute fright yesterday.”
“Thanks,” was all he said, dryly.
“You're so welcome. So. Supper was great last night…”
Yhkon looked at him. Supper. What was the—he sucked in his breath, remembering. “Oh. Blast. I'm sorry, I com—”
Bactah clapped him on the arm, walking at a leisurely pace down the hallway. “Well you better be sorry, but you're forgiven. I explained your pitiful condition to my parents.”
He rolled his eyes. “You are such a—”
“Yeah well point is, think you'll be more up to it tonight? My parents would still like a more substantial visit with your sorry self. Why, I don't know. I suppose—”
“Oh stop talking.” Grinning despite himself, he gave Bactah a shove. “Yes, I'll do my best to actually show up tonight. Or, better yet…are they available now? How about lunch?”
A nonchalant shrug. “Quite possibly. Let's go.”
Usually Yhkon would borrow a celith for the trip, but Bactah hated riding. So for his sake, they made use of one of the palace carriages to travel the few miles to the Falston’s home in the city.
Annyve was almost just as concerned for his condition as the day before, apparently quite upset by whatever Bactah told them as to why he didn't come. Again, Yhkon didn't mind her fretting. The only other person that so consistently and completely treated him as if he were their own son was…well, Grrake. And Grrake wasn't around. It was nice to have at least a few people who offered him care and guidance, instead of looking to him for it.
Heaven knew he rarely managed to give it as they needed.
Why was he here? Not Grrake? Grrake would make a better leader than him for a hundred different reasons, including that everyone—literally everyone, as far as he knew—liked and respected Grrake. Whereas almost everyone disliked Yhkon, and only grudgingly respected him, if even.
For good reason.
Ekirre watching him keenly made him realize he had gone silent, disconnected from his surroundings. Unfortunately, all of them had noticed. The usual chatter and banter and clicking forks was gone, three pairs of eyes trained on him. Waiting.
Yhkon leaned forward in a casual posture and shoveled another bite of food into his mouth.
Ann didn't fall for it. “Tell us what's wrong.”
He hated that question. What was wrong? Most days, it would be so much faster to answer what wasn't wrong. Because that answer was short, perhaps nonexistent. He was wrong…so was it possible for anything in his life to be right? “Nothing, really. I'm just tired.” Better give them something, or they would never believe it. “And…Ahjul, you know.”
Her frown became all the more compassionate. “Of course. He was your friend, and such a sweet young man…”
When no one said anything for awhile, Ekirre changed the subject. “So how was it going? The trip, the mission, the wards…Bactah tells us some but not much.”
Silently thanking Ekirre for offering him an escape, he took a sip of water and set his fork down to answer. “Alright, I suppose. We had just gotten Skyve…it was a bit of a rough patch for awhile, Talea and I weren't seeing eye to eye. That, at least, seems to have mended. Otherwise things were alright I think. I was hoping we would have longer before Kaydor figured out what we were up to. But we just have Amilyne left, before we can bring them here, and I fully admit that I look forward to that.”
“We all do.” Ann smiled. “I suppose you're too old now for me to say that I worry about and miss you, when you're gone.”
He mustered a return smile. “It's good to have someone that misses me. Bactah can tell you that the council certainly doesn't.”
They laughed. Good, the pleasant mood had been restored. Now just keep it that way. It didn't prove hard. The Falstons were amiable people, with whom he could usually relax.
He stayed for a few hours, partially for their sakes, partially because he didn't have anything else to do. The only other person in all of Calcaria he had any desire or reason to spend time with was Talea, and she was with her family.
Yet he couldn't keep himself at leisure in their living room for too long. Three hours pushed the limit of how long he could keep his mind occupied with casual, light conversation, or stay seated without anything to do, or keep his thoughts from wandering to the dark, murky places they always tried to go.
So he made excuses. Hugged Annyve, shook Ekirre's hand, punched Bactah’s shoulder, and left the peace of their company and home. Without any destination or task. With time he didn't want on his hands. A lifetime. He would wander aimlessly, train, pace in his room. All the usual. By himself.
But there was nothing new about any of that. That was his life.
19
Tessa
W hen do you go back?”
Hearing Alili’s voice, small and raspy but her voice all the same, always made Talea want to smile. The question, however, was a bit more conflicting. She took the little girl’s hand. “I’m not sure. When I get better, I guess. But then we just have one more ward to get, and I’ll be back.”
Alili studied her with those huge, expressive brown eyes. They never sparkled with mirth, or glowed with energy. Almost no matter the situation, they were the same—wistful, observant, appearing to hold far greater wisdom and experience than a seven-year-old ought to have.
Seles caught up to them, her own expression much as it often was—concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay to go back at all? Couldn’t you stay, and the rest of the group could get Amilyne?”
Okay to go back…In regards to the injury, as Seles was asking, probably, given a couple more weeks. But otherwise? Not as easy to answer. As happy as she was to be with her family again, and to be in Calcaria, where she was safe, where she could simply rest…she missed everyone. And she missed getting up every morning with a mission, a purpose.
But then, there was the battle. There was the fact that she was going back to a hostile region, even if it was her home, where she could find herself in another conflict at any time. Where she could lose another friend...
“You okay?” Brenly, like Alili, watched her intently, perhaps having noticed her grimace at the memories.
“Yeah.” She flashed a smile. “Yeah, I think I’ll be okay, going back. The Stitches said two more weeks should be enough for this to be healed, at least well enough for me to ride and do a little walking.”
“But you can’t even laugh without doubling over,” Naylen said with a contradictory mix of teasing and worry.
“Well,” Yhkon’s voice behind them made her turn, surprised, “fortunately, someone once told me laughter ought to be considered a medicine.”
Her family made room for him to walk beside her and Alili. They were giving her a tour of the palace gardens, now that she was able to walk. “Who told you that? Grrake?”
“No, though it does sound like something he would say. It was…well his name is Mahzin. You'll meet him someday.” He glanced sideways, toward her bandage-distended waist. “How are you feeling today?”