It had to hurt, no matter what. That was why Stef had once saved Sam’s hat, after a dragon had killed him. And why Sam had saved me from drowning in Rangedge Lake. That was why people crowded into the rebirth room to welcome back old friends or lovers.
That was why the days after Templedark, and the memorial held in the north, had been so somber. They knew temporary loss, temporary death, and how it ached.
With Templedark, they knew permanent loss as well.
I leaned into Sarit’s arms, grateful for her comfort. And deeply guilty for not being here when she lost Armande. Not that I could have magically transported myself to her side.
Soft moans came from around the room, and heat followed. Sylph.
Sarit tensed, but forced herself to relax after a moment.
“I’ve explained about the sylph,” Sam said. “Cris is here. He and the others want to apologize for—You know.”
For burning up Whit as they passed. I knew.
“And for what happened outside.”
For leaving charred, smoking bodies. “They saved the rest of us.” My voice was dry, aching.
“They swore to protect you,” Sam said quietly. “They’ll do anything it takes.”
Because they thought I could stop Janan and redeem them, put an end to the punishment phoenixes had placed on them five thousand years ago. I knew that, too.
“What now?” I asked.
“I’ll call Orrin and tell him about Whit. They’ve been best friends . . . forever.”
“He needs to know,” I agreed.
“And we do whatever it takes to stop Janan’s ascension.”
We had five days until Soul Night. That time was a gift.
“Maybe we can find allies,” Sam continued. “We should start with Deborl’s prisoners and find a way to free them.” He kept his voice gentle. “Now that Sarit’s not alone anymore, perhaps she can get some sleep.”
A curtain of black hair trembled as Sarit nodded next to me. “I do miss sleep.”
“Why don’t you two catch up and get some rest?” Sam said. “I’ll take a couple of sylph and check the area.”
I looked up. “Check for what?”
Sam grabbed his pistol from the bench. “Anyone who might have followed us here. Sylph can stand guard, but I’d feel better if I looked.”
He was a musician, not a warrior. But I didn’t stop him from going outside, because he was also a soul with a deep sense of honor and need to protect.
When he was gone, Sarit hugged me tightly and stood up. “Let’s find places for you to sleep. We’ve got lots of nice fabric. Do you want wool? Silk? Bison? Have some of everything.” Her voice held a note of weary humor, like she’d asked me over to her house for the night and wanted to be a good host. “This place doesn’t get used as much as it did before you came. Ciana was in charge of all this. While people still come here to weave and stock up before markets, it’s just not as busy as it once was. Not since Ciana.”
I nodded. The reminder of her absence must have hurt, especially for the people who were closest to her. Sam had been close to her.
“Anyway.” Sarit opened a crate and rummaged through bolts of cloth. “It will be a nice change from your sleeping bag. We can make you a pallet as thick and soft as you want, almost like a real bed.”
“That will be nice,” I said, because she was trying so hard. “Where have you been sleeping?”
“In the storage room. No windows. Close to the washroom and tubs. It feels hidden.” Her smile was strained. “There’s a second door there to the other hall, so I can go out either way if someone sneaks up on me while I’m sleeping.”
“Let’s all sleep in there.”
“I’d like that. It’s been terrible, being alone.” The bolt of fabric she held dropped when she pressed her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I promised myself I wouldn’t complain.”
I hugged her as hard as I could. “It’s okay. We’re here now.”
She trembled and whispered, “Thank you. After Armande—I was so glad when we could finally talk again. I didn’t think I’d get to see you so soon, and I’m so, so grateful.”
“We had to ride dragons.”
“I’d have ridden a dragon and a roc to be able to see you again.”
I pulled away and started unfolding bolts of woven wool. “How would you have convinced the roc?”
“Surely they like honey. Everything does. I would have bribed it with a whole jar of honey, even tied a bow around the lid.”
“I’m sure that would have worked.”
Together, we carried armfuls of our favorite colors into the storage room. It was filled with crates, so we arranged them into partitions for privacy.
“You and Sam are sharing, hmm?” She smiled a little.
I blushed. “Yeah. I mean, not . . . that. Yet. We were fighting.”
She nodded. “I remember.”
“We fought for a long time.” It had seemed like forever, anyway. “We weren’t talking or anything. And since then, we’ve been trying to ease back into everything, but we don’t want to ease too much, because what if—” I couldn’t say it.