The Path of the Storm (Evermen Saga, #3)

Amber laughed. "Thanks for making me laugh. You know, during the planning and the organisation I've felt fine the whole time, and then suddenly it hit me now, and I'm terrified." Her smile was shaky now. "What if something goes wrong?"

"Amber, you're the strongest woman I know, and you can do anything. You don't have to face any enemies, only your friends and family, and the man you love waiting on the bank of the Sarsen, desperate to make you his wife. You can do anything you set your mind to, and together you'll make an unstoppable couple."

Ella took her friend's hand and helped her to her feet. "Thank you," Amber whispered, squeezing Ella's hand.

"Let's go show the world," Ella said.

~

ELLA couldn't believe she was finally watching her brother and her oldest friend become one. Not only watching, but participating — she knew her heart was racing, so she could only imagine how they must feel.

Miro took a step forward with Bartolo behind him. Bartolo's sword was bared and held upright to demonstrate that he would fight anyone who tried to disrupt the wedding. Few would take that chance with the battle-hardened bladesinger.

In contrast to the naked threat, Miro held a summerglen in his hand. The petals shifted hue between blue and green as the flower caught different aspects of the slanted afternoon light.

As Miro stepped forward, so Amber took a step towards him. Her dress was brilliant white, the colour of crystal, and off her shoulders, leaving the milk-white skin of her throat and neckline bare. Her auburn hair was piled on top of her head in intricate ringlets, and matched her warm brown eyes. Dainty white slippers were on her feet, and as she walked she looked at Miro, and then down at the ground, moistening her lips nervously.

First one, then another guest made a sighing sound, an expression of appreciation, like the wind in the trees. A blush came to Amber's face, and then she began to smile, and once she started it was clear she couldn't stop, for the smile broadened and she looked around her, meeting the eyes of the guests, who all started to smile along, until all present, Ella included, smiled together.

Amber carried Miro's scabbarded sword in two hands, and behind Amber walked Ella, carrying a scroll. On it were the words she'd written, words about Miro and Amber she would speak at the end. She'd been writing for weeks and only hoped that when the time came she wouldn't falter.

Miro and Amber took another step towards each other, drawing ever closer, while between them Tomas tottered about, scattering flower petals and then falling down as he tripped over his shiny black boots, before standing up again. Ella looked out and saw the friends and dignitaries smiling. Out further still, the opposite river bank was packed with onlookers, as were the bridges and even many of the roofs of the buildings. The Crystal Palace began its evening display of colours and a rising cheer came from the crowd.

At exactly one hour before sunset, by precise Louan timepiece, the two lovers would exchange the sword and flower.

Two more steps forward, and Miro and Amber were facing each other. Father Morten, the priest who had helped Amber bring peace between Altura and the Dunfolk, stood smiling beside the gaudy golden shrine. Bartolo looked stern and noble. Ella wished she could see Amber's face but she was pleased she could see how happy Miro looked.

Father Morten began to speak, but Ella didn't really hear the words. She was drinking in the details around her, and thinking about the words of her speech, rehearsing them in her mind. Ella glanced at the most important of the guests, seated in tiered semi-circles around where they stood. She saw High Lord Rorelan, wearing formal dress and for once smiling as he met her eyes and nodded, and then turning back to the ceremony she saw Tomas for once behaving himself as he stood beside Father Morten.

Ella realised the words had stopped, and Miro was holding out the summerglen. He took the scabbarded sword from Amber as she took the flower.

They kissed, and Ella heard the great timepiece on the Green Tower at the Academy start to ring in the distance. The nearby fountains shot up ever higher, and the Crystal Palace brightened to an intensity Ella had never seen before.

The crowd cheered wildly, a mighty roar that drowned all else, so that Ella thought the whole city must have mouths opened wide.

Miro and Amber broke their kiss and both turned to wave at the crowd.

Ella smelled burning.

She looked at the shrine, and suddenly thought of Evrin.

"We weren't gods," he once said, "but we thought we were."

The Empire's most powerful people were all here.

Why would Evrin give Miro and Amber a shrine devoted to himself? Ella knew Evrin; it wasn't like him.

"Weddings aren't my thing," he had said.

Ella thought about working with Evrin, and his sense of majesty and splendour in everything he did. He loved everything beautiful, from food and wine to art and the face of a child.

Evrin did not give this gift.

Ella looked at the shrine, so close to everyone she held dear, so close to the Empire's leaders.