Not ever, was what she meant, but she didn’t have the energy for this to become an argument.
Lova knelt beside her, her tail swishing to brush Wren’s side. “Wasn’t the best of days, was it? Oh—how hard did you want to punch Lord Muay when he suggested demons are more efficient, productive members of society because of our natural gods-given capabilities.”
Wren let out a gruff laugh. “I should have known things wouldn’t change so easily. Prejudice runs so deeply in these lands.”
“The Demon Kings had two hundred years to make it so. It’s going to take much longer than one war and a few meetings to undo all of that.”
“Do you think we ever will?”
“No,” Lova said bluntly. “But,” she added, “we can make it better.”
She reached out and clasped Wren’s hand. Wren clasped it back. Then she drew it back.
The echo of Lei hovered between them.
Lova finished her tea, then stood. “This came for you.” She plucked a scroll from the folds of her wrap shirt. “Something nice to end a long day on, at least?” When she reached the door, she paused. “Let me know how the girls are getting on tomorrow. You know, to keep updated. They were here a long time, using up our resources. There was that girl—the one who fought in the battle. What was her name? With the hair…”
“Blue?” Wren said with a knowing smirk.
Lova waved a hand. “Whatever. I just wondered… she’d make a good warrior. It seemed like she was getting on well here.” She rolled her eyes as Wren’s smirk grew and left before Wren could tease her more.
Wren hadn’t failed to notice the way Lova and Blue had begun to look at each other during their time here. It was the same look she’d seen worn by Merrin and Bo once, and now Khuen and Samira, and Kenzo and the many, many handsome warriors that passed through the fort.
Wren was happy for them. Shifu Caen once taught her how to bloom a flower from the tiniest seedling in seconds with her magic. She thought that if magic never came back, at least they would always have this: affection, attraction, love, blooming like brightly colored flowers nudged by soft footsteps.
Though gods, she hoped magic would come back.
That was a problem Ruza was working on. The young shaman had volunteered to help in their efforts to understand the Sickness, and if magic might be coaxed back into their world. Ruza was infamous among the ex-royal shamans for his part in freeing them, so Wren had offered him a position on the New Council as representative of Ikhara’s shamans.
She didn’t want to make any more decisions on their behalf. They should have a say in how magic is used.
In how they are used.
She smoothed out the letter Lova had passed her. Every word shone with Lei’s voice.
Wren,
It’s a stupid hour in the morning but I had to write to you as soon as I got the chance, and I know I’ll be called back to help soon. You know what Tien is like when she’s kept waiting. Well, now there’s Blue, too.
Come save me! Help!
Anyway.
Shala has given birth! Two days ago, on the eighth day of the month (I’m hoping no one will read too much into that—you know how I feel about good-luck signs). She and the baby are being well looked after considering they live in an herb shop and Baba and Tien have been preparing for the birth ever since Shala asked if she could come home with them.
The baby is so cute, Wren. Once we got the goo off of him, at least. He’s healthy, a Moon, with tiny horns Lill is obsessed with. Kuih is jealous of the attention we’re lathering on him, though she sniffed his feet yesterday and gave them what I’m sure was an approving lick.
Please tell Kenzo and Lova and Nitta for me, and anyone else you trust. We have a little Prince in our midst.
Not that he’ll know that. Shala is determined he does not know about his legacy. Not yet, anyway. She wants to bring him up quietly, here in Xienzo. He’ll grow up under the care of many adoring aunties—oh, gods, I’m an auntie now—far away from the world that shaped his father. We’re all glad about that. I guess there’ll always be ways corruption can reach a child, but they’ll have to battle through us, first. And we’re a pretty strong group.
His name is Ai. Blue hates it, obviously. Says calling him after love is sentimental. But I adore it.
I guess I’m sentimental.
I miss you, Wren. Like you wouldn’t believe.
All right—Ai is crying and I can hear Tien stomping along the hall. He’s calmed by my arms more than anyone else’s, so my arms and I are getting called on a lot recently. I’m not complaining. It’s a pleasure to help, even in this small way. Both for Shala and Ai.
Oh. Without magic we weren’t sure at first what to do about the Birth-blessing ceremony. We debated it a lot, but we landed on something perfect. You were actually the inspiration. I’ll tell you about it when we next see each other.
Or come visit and see for yourself.
Stay strong, Wren. Go shape our world into something worthy of a little demon boy named after the most powerful, precious thing in the world.
All my love,
Lei
They held a small celebration the next evening in Shala and Ai’s honor. Wren told Lova, Nitta, Kenzo, Khuen, Samira, and Ruza, and they’d all been delighted. Lova had been the one to suggest a party—not that it took much for her to do so. Throwing parties was her specialty. Better if it included explosives and a little fighting.
Luckily, this one did not.
They set up a fire and some cushions outside, near the edge of the forest where they likely wouldn’t be disturbed. Wren raided her father’s sake collection. Nitta made sweets. She’d been spending a lot of time in the kitchens since the war, and had learned a few things under Tien’s strict tutelage. Kenzo dug out an old double-stringed lute that was hideously out of tune, but after a few hours and many drinks, it didn’t seem to matter.
Nitta and Wren sat close. Even with the fire’s warmth, the night was chilly, and they had a blanket around their shoulders. Past the dancing embers, Lova swung her hips as she warbled along to Kenzo’s lute. Kenzo roared with laughter at her lewd lyrics. Khuen and Samira were kissing. Slightly off to the side, Ruza watched them with curiosity. Perhaps it was because they were a Paper and a Steel—or, perhaps it was simply because they were kissing with such… enthusiasm.
Wren watched them, too, not with curiosity but jealousy. Her chest ached. Lei would have loved this. She would have loved Lei to be here to love it with her.
Samira withdrew long enough from Khuen’s mouth to notice Ruza’s and Wren’s stares. With a roll of her scarlet hawk eyes, she fluffed her wing-arms and swept them in front of her and Khuen, hiding their faces from view.
Everyone laughed.
Nitta rubbed her arm. “Missing her?” she asked.
Wren smiled. “Always.”
“Reminds me of our travels at the beginning of the year,” Nitta said, nodding at their party. “That was a good time.”
“We were on the run for our lives for most of it.”