Elliot thought he had given all he could—but maybe he had a bit more to offer.
“What were these rumors you heard, Elliot?” the commander asked.
“About the Grand Council, sir. I heard the other—the Riders talking about it,” he said. It felt wrong to insinuate that he was a Rider when he hadn’t ridden in weeks. “They said there would be a meeting.”
The commander pursed his lips. “There will be—though I do wish my Riders would be more discreet.”
Elliot didn’t want to get the Riders into trouble, so he hastened to continue. “Well, sir, it got me thinking about my aunt.”
“Your aunt?”
“My great-aunt, actually. Emilia of Stel. She’s the Minister of Trade in Stel and so has a seat on the Grand Council.” The commander perked up considerably at that, confirming that it was a fact he didn’t know. “As a minister, she actually controls—”
“Three seats,” the commander said, gaze sliding out of focus as he considered these ramifications.
“Yes, sir. One for herself and two others that she can appoint at will. I’m not sure if you recall, but during the war, Emilia allied with Stelarbor.”
Elliot paused to let that information sink in.
Stelarbor was the southernmost city in the empire, on the border of Arboria South and Stel, and well known for their disinterest in war. Though technically in the province of Stel, they rarely sided with them politically. They hadn’t supported the Stellan Uprising or the Stellan involvement in the Blood War, and were actually known to work against the Stellan agenda from time to time.
“That’s right…. ,” the commander said, looking at Elliot with new eyes. “I’d forgotten that a portion of Stel resisted the council and their push for a Stellan-blooded queen.”
Elliot nodded eagerly. “They refused to send soldiers, weapons, or gold that might be used against the Phoenix Riders. Like Stelarbor, my great-aunt has always supported the animage cause. I thought it might be good to know that you had an ally where you might not have counted one before.”
The commander leaned back. “Thank you, Elliot. I, well… I know this ordeal has been trying for you. It’s good to know you’re still with us, despite everything. That you still want to help where you can.”
Elliot’s chest swelled. “Of course, sir.”
* * *
That night, when Sparrow arrived outside the village, Elliot was waiting for her. He marched toward her across the grass, and she stiffened as he reached her—either hearing his footsteps or perhaps warned by one of her animal friends, which tonight included a one-legged bluebird, a fluffy dog that helped the villagers herd their small of sheep, and what Elliot was pretty sure was a chameleon, its scaly head with its wide, swiveling eyes poking out from her tunic’s front pocket.
“Elliot?” she said, not so much warily as in surprise—he never greeted or approached her at all.
“Yes,” Elliot said. “It’s me.”
Then, without explanation or preamble, he took her by the waist—careful not to crush the lizard—and twirled her around. He’d done this with Riella countless times, and though it seemed to startle Sparrow at first—as well as the bluebird perched on her head, which took off with an indignant trill—a bubble of laughter burst from her mouth as she clung tighter, giggling maniacally.
“Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you!” Elliot sang to her, his voice sounding more like a triumphant yell than anything else. “Sparrow, you are a genius!” he shouted to the night sky before carefully slowing his pace and releasing her.
“I am?” she asked somewhat breathlessly, stumbling a bit as she regained her footing. Her spear lay on the grass behind her; she must have dropped it when he scooped her up. A good thing, too, or Elliot might have accidentally wound up stuck like a pig.
“You are,” Elliot replied. “I—” Before he could say more, however, something large and furry slammed into his chest, bowling him over.
The wind was knocked from Elliot’s lungs—from the initial shock of the impact, plus the fact that the fur ball was still standing on his rib cage. He struggled to draw air, while a growling muzzle was inches from his face.
“Ruff, no!” came Sparrow’s voice, but it was Jax’s interference that moved the sheepdog from Elliot’s chest. With a sharp butt of his head, the animal was gone, and Elliot drew in a gasping breath.
Jax remained looming over Elliot in a protective stance. The phoenix didn’t seem angry—there wasn’t any heat or sparks—but he was certainly annoyed. He croaked low in his throat and puffed up his feathers until the dog, who’d still been circling nearby, tucked his tail between his legs and scampered off.
Once the dog was gone, Jax looked downward until his head filled Elliot’s field of vision—that was until Sparrow’s head bent over him, even nearer at hand.
“Is he dead?” she asked aloud—and Elliot wondered who she was talking to until Jax released a sound that could only be described as a laugh-snort.
“I’m fine,” Elliot wheezed, raising himself up on his elbows. “What happened?” he asked, still feeling a bit dazed.
“Oh, well—you startled me,” Sparrow explained, sounding chagrined. “It’s not good to touch someone who can’t see. Not without asking,” she clarified. “Ruff was just tryin’ to teach you some manners is all.”
Elliot grimaced. “I’m an idiot,” he said, his cheeks heating in embarrassment. Of course she’d be surprised when he started spinning her around out of nowhere. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, Sparrow. I was just grateful, I guess, and—”
“It’s okay,” Sparrow interrupted, fidgeting with the hem of her tunic. The bluebird returned, fluttering onto the girl’s shoulder, and that seemed to settle her a bit. “Is that why you spun me, then?” she asked, brow furrowed. “To say thank you?”
Elliot got to his feet and dusted off the dirt and grass from his clothes. “I—well, no. I mean yes? I spun you because I was happy. You were right about showing them I still care. I spoke to the commander just now, and I think I really helped him.”
“Did you spin him, too?”
“Gods, no,” Elliot said, aghast. Then he burst out laughing. She seemed genuinely puzzled, but her expression lightened at the sound. He eventually sighed. “Sorry, Sparrow, I… I used to spin my sister like that.”
“Riella?” Sparrow prompted.
“Yeah. I haven’t felt like doing that in a long time. Since they told me I would be a Rider.”
Sparrow seemed to consider his words for a long time. “Did Riella like it?”
“She loved it,” Elliot said, his mood turning a bit melancholy again. “I guess…,” he began, suddenly self-conscious. “I guess you probably hated it.”
“No,” Sparrow said, shaking her head firmly. Then she smiled at him. “I loved it too.”
* * *
Though Elliot felt lighter than he had in months after helping Beryk and giving important information to Commander Cassian, he knew he had a long way to go to make up for his past.