And the easy, casual way Luke could say “my mother,” the way he could complain about her, left Elliot suddenly with no reserves of patience in him.
“I don’t need any more Sunborn time, no,” he told Luke. “I want to go to the library, where perhaps I will finally be left in peace.”
“Suit yourself, then,” said Luke. “You always do.”
“Oh, you know me,” Elliot said savagely. “Constantly getting what I want.”
Elliot did not go to the library or his room, since Serene might be in either place, and Serene would take Luke’s side. He went to the commander’s tower, right up to the very top.
He could see the Borderlands laid out from here, blue and green that went blurred in his vision suddenly, like a turquoise gemstone, like something he wanted to hurl away. He didn’t want magic any more, he didn’t want any of it.
Elliot sat down on the stone floor, put his forehead on his drawn-up knees, cradled his head in his arms, and tried to breathe in wet angry gulps.
“Are you . . . quite all right, Cadet Schafer?”
It was Commander Woodsinger’s voice, Elliot realized after a moment. Though he should have guessed it immediately from the fact there were no soothing back-pats or offers to fetch help. He looked up, blinking, and she was looking down at him. Her face was grave as it always was.
“No,” said Elliot. “I’m not. That medic, Elka Pathwind? She’s my mother. She left me when I was a baby, and she doesn’t want me now. She looked at me as if I was some years-old mess that she’d thought was behind her, something rotting and useless and—and hateful, and I do not know what to do except maybe prove her right. I’m not—I don’t know how to be—I’m planning on being emotional and too much trouble and everything you hate, so why don’t you just go? Go! Get out!”
He put his head back down on his arms. He wondered if he would be expelled for telling the commander to get out of her own tower, and sort of hoped he would be. He kept trying to breathe, to breathe, until it finally seemed like breathing might be possible.
It occurred to him that he had heard himself gasping and heard the thunder of his own useless furious heart in his ears, but he had not heard her leave.
Then the commander spoke. “Do you want me to send her away?”
Elliot twisted around and stared at the commander. She was standing straight as a spear, staring out at the Borderlands: her profile was set as something carved on a coin.
“What?” Elliot asked blankly.
“Do you—”
“I haven’t been stricken deaf so I can’t hear stuff said to me by someone standing next to me on top of a tower with nobody else around,” said Elliot. “I was just expressing disbelief. Why would you send her away?”
Commander Woodsinger cleared her throat. “Well—”
Elliot stared up at her. It was easier to breathe, the more uneasy the commander was.
“I mean she’s a perfectly competent medic. Useful to have around the place. Isn’t that what you care about? Your job and the camp?”
“Obviously,” said Commander Woodsinger.
“After all, you don’t want to have a personal relationship with any of your cadets,” Elliot pointed out. “You told me that.”
“It is possible that I believe you might—might—have the potential to be even more useful than a capable medic,” said Commander Woodsinger. “In time. If you listen to your tutors and especially your commanding officer. Now vacate the tower: you do not have my permission to be here.”
Elliot scrambled up, rolled his eyes at her, and made for the door.
“Wait, Cadet Schafer!” Elliot turned and waited: Commander Woodsinger looked him over, then looked as if she wanted to say something. Her mouth formed a few different, undecided shapes. Eventually, she said: “You always forget to salute.”
Elliot hesitated. Then he walked quickly back to her, leaned down, and kissed her on the cheek.
“CADET SCHAFER!”
“It’s okay,” said Elliot. “You don’t have to tell me that you like me.”
He took a step back, saluted, and left, taking the tower steps two at a time.
She didn’t have to tell him, because he could tell. That was what it meant, when people came to find you, when they cared enough to sacrifice for you, when they supported you, when they came back.
He could tell when someone cared. And he could tell when someone didn’t.
The next night there was a celebration for the agreement between the Border camp and the elves, and their current ride to war.
Elliot was not in a party mood, but fortunately his friends were basically terrible at parties. Serene preferred to brood handsomely in a corner, impressing many gentlemen but not really speaking to anyone, and Luke sat being pleasant but twitchy, like an unhappy rabbit, until he could make his escape.
Unfortunately, the place was full of Sunborns. They were all treated to the sight of Rachel Sunborn grinding up on a distant cousin called, Elliot thought, Ursula Sunborn. It cheered him up a little, as did Luke’s expression, which said, in letters of fire: O Welcome Death.
“Where are your delightful relatives, Serene?” Elliot asked.
“They decided not to come because they were certain they would be exposed to the sight of gentlemen behaving in a licentious and ungentlemanly fashion,” said Serene, with deep thankfulness.
Elliot looked around where many gentlemen were indeed behaving in a licentious and ungentlemanly fashion, getting super drunk and in the case of five members of the Trigon team standing around cheering as Adara Cornripe and Natalie Lowlands made out for their benefit.
Elliot let his lip curl. “Charming. They certainly are missing out,” he said dryly.
Said dryness was spoiled when Louise Sunborn spilled half her mead on his head. Elliot sputtered and stared up at her.
“Sorry, Little Red!” she said, and burst out laughing. “You are hilarious when you make faces! Come and show me some of the moves from your play.”
Elliot got up. He did it for Louise, who was drunk and wanted to have fun, but having her arms around his neck, looking at her simply beautiful and simply happy face, actually made him feel a little better. He made the stage dance easier so she could follow a few of the more showy moves, and Louise clapped as he shimmied up her body and laughed delightedly when she dipped him. He was concerned he was going to be dropped, but the Sunborn musculature saved him and she didn’t.
“Ha, you are such a cutie,” she said, flinging her arms back around his neck and whispering in a very loud voice. “Hey, Mum said something interesting to me. So I hear little Luke has a crussssssh! At last. He’s a late bloomer, I’m not meant to tease him. So point out this Dale Wavechaser to me, or I’ll ask Dad to do it! Oh no wait, Dad said I should say I’d ask Luke . . . and I wasn’t supposed to say Dad told as well. . . . This is just a terrible mess, Little Red. Show me my baby brother’s crush or I’ll beat you up. But gently.” She patted his head.
“You have to promise not to tell Luke,” said Elliot.