“Where in all the houses did you find this?” he asked in wonder.
Lyana dropped the hood as she pulled the fabric close. “My grandmother was a, shall we say, large woman, and she used to complain that her wings would get cold when she ventured outside, so my grandfather had this made as a gift. When she passed, he gave it to me because I loved how much it still smelled like her.”
The affection in her tone brought a warm feeling to his heart, a tender sensation he wasn’t used to but liked. Though there was something else too, a subtle sort of yearning as he wondered what it must have been like to grow up with a family like that.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have laughed when you said you brought a large cloak,” he teased.
Lyana shook her head with a satisfied, “Hmph.”
He eyed her hands. “Do you have gloves?”
She pushed the cloak aside to take two black gloves from a pocket in her jacket, pulling them over her fingers.
“What about something for your neck and chin?”
Again, Lyana produced a disguise in the shape of a deep ebony fur that would cover the exposed skin beneath her hood.
“Not the first time you’ve ever snuck out of a castle,” he guessed, unable to fight the desire to smile at her antics.
Lyana studied him as he, too, donned gloves and a dark outfit meant to blend with the night, then pulled a hood over his eyes, shrouding his features. “Not yours either.”
He nodded at her. “Come on, then, before I change my mind.”
Leading the princess down the halls, he was careful to peek around each corner, searching for guards or servants on their nightly rounds. The passage was in the underbelly of the castle, not as deep underground as his mother’s room had once been, but close. The path was dark and dank. Moisture from the soil seeped through the stones, leaving a layer of slick algae and moss. They moved carefully, and after a few stumbles, Lyana reached out to take his hand for balance. He tried not to think about how comforting her fingers felt, entwined through his, how soothing, how natural. When they reached the end of the passage, he broke hold to open the heavy iron gate, made to look like another sewage hole in the street.
From there, it was her turn to lead. They took a few wrong, circular routes before she finally found her bearings in a city that was still foreign to her, and they made it to the first of the injured. Lyana stared at the building, studying the windows and doors, fighting to remember.
“That one,” she whispered, pointing to a balcony on the left of the second story. “That was his room.”
Rafe nodded, taking to the air with a single pump of his wings to land softly on the platform. He pressed his nose to the window, trying to see through the shadows of the room, until he found a small body curled on the bed and turned, bending to offer Lyana his hand. Careful not to use her wings, she leaped. It took two tries before he caught her forearm firmly enough to drag her up. On the balcony, Lyana slid her knife through the narrow slit in the window, clicking the latch. They were in. She rushed to the child fast asleep beneath the covers, stripped off her gloves, and closed her eyes, focusing on the work.
Rafe, on the other hand, stood guard in the darkness, hardly able to blink as he watched her, mesmerized. The grimace on the child’s lips disappeared. His raspy wheezing eased into long, smooth, flowing breaths. The tight little bundle of his body loosened, more comfortable as the pain seeped from his bones. And Lyana was a vision, lips slightly open, features relaxed. The golden light emanating from her hands glittered like the soft rays of the morning sun sifting through the clouds. And for a moment, he finally saw what she saw. That it wasn’t magic. It was something more. Her god, Aethios, flowing through her, giving her the power to heal the world.
Rafe had spent most of his life resenting his magic. It had saved him, but not his parents. It had made him an outcast, something to be feared. It had made him a fugitive, someone filled with fear. It had turned his brother into a liar and his life into a lie. But standing there, watching her, for the first time Rafe understood his magic was a gift.
Because his magic had saved her.
His magic had created this moment.
And she, and this, were magnificent.
50
Lyana
Lyana woke bleary-eyed and exhausted, but feeling better than she had in weeks. Maybe even months. Maybe…ever.
Finally, she wasn’t just sitting around, dreaming of something more, waiting for her life to find her. Finally, she was out doing something, something good, something with her magic. They’d only made it to four homes, but that was still four people who would wake up this morning miraculously healed, thanking their god, alive when they otherwise might not have been. And Lyana had made it happen.
Well, she and Rafe.
They’d made it happen together.
“What’s got you grinning like a buffoon this morning?” Cassi asked as she slipped through the door between their rooms and collapsed on Lyana’s bed, looking a little bleary-eyed and exhausted herself.
“Nothing,” Lyana murmured, sighing. Try as she might to arrange her face into a more appropriate expression, her lips remained resolutely wide.
Cassi stared. “Nothing.”
“It’s a beautiful day,” Lyana gushed, attributing her enthusiasm into something that might make a little more sense.
Leaving Cassi in bed, Lyana jumped to her feet and threw the curtains open as if her body had too much energy and could do nothing but explode with motion. The sun was high, higher than when she usually woke up, though she normally went to bed much earlier. And the sky was a clear, bright blue, reminding her of something else, someone else. She had the sense that she was exactly where she was supposed to be—a wonderfully foreign yet comforting feeling.
“Did they slip you some sort of herb for the pain? I’ve heard rumors that medicine isn’t the only thing they brew in the House of Paradise…” Cassi frowned, watching her in confusion.
Lyana pranced back to the bed, hopping from foot to foot. “Nope, nothing. My leg feels fine.”
Cassi watched her warily, nonetheless. “You’re a little too happy, even for you.”
“Honestly, Cassi,” Lyana said, hands on hips. “Can’t you just wipe the frown from your face and join me in this marvelous, wondrous, beautiful morning?”
Cassi watched her for another moment, then rolled off the bed to take a step toward the tray in the corner of the room, which Lyana hadn’t even noticed. She lifted the lid of the kettle, sniffing it. “What did they put in this?”
Lyana was prepared to argue with her friend some more, but her door crashed open, banging against the wall with a thunderous boom.
“Lyana!”
It was Xander.
An out-of-breath, smiling, excited Xander, as full of awe as she was. He paused, and his body jerked as though he suddenly remembered where he was. His eyes popping, he offered her a low bow before rising slowly. The sight made her feel even lighter.
“I mean, Princess, pardon my intrusion, I just— Have you— I thought you’d want to hear the news.”
“What news?” Cassi asked, a wary edge still on her voice.
Xander spun in her direction, surprised by her presence. Then he shrugged, switching his attention between them. “It’s all everyone has been talking about all morning. Four of the injured children we visited yesterday, a boy and three girls, they’re all— Well, somehow, they’re healed!”