A Place to Begin

Leo kept his promise.

By the time the next watch settled around Darian’s enclosure, he and Catherine were riding home.

The eastern sky had begun to pale. Below them, smoke rose from the kitchens, and the first carts moved between the storehouses. Someone had opened the school shutters.

After a night spent watching fire crawl beneath a man’s skin, the sight of a baker arguing with a mule felt almost impossible.

Catherine leaned against Leo’s back.

“Are you falling asleep?” he asked.

“No.”

A pause.

“Possibly.”

He covered her hand with his.

“Almost home.”

Elara met them at the door.

She took one look at their faces and stepped aside.

“Wash. Bed.”

“Tomas may send—”

“If Tomas sends for you before midday, I will go and discuss it with him.”

Leo considered the likely outcome of that conversation.

“Yes, Mother.”

Her expression softened at the name.

Then she pushed him toward the stairs.

Celine was awake, sitting against the pillows with Noctis tucked into her arm. She looked up as they entered.

“You came back.”

“I said I would.”

“I know.”

She said it quietly enough that Leo understood how much the promise had mattered.

Catherine sat on the edge of the bed and reached for her sister’s hand.

“He’s alive.”

Celine closed her eyes.

“And Silas?”

“We cut the connection,” Leo said. “For now.”

He washed, changed, and climbed into bed with a weariness that seemed to have settled inside his bones.

Celine studied him over Noctis’s head.

“Did you eat anything?”

Leo tried to remember.

“That means no.”

“I had water.”

“How nourishing.”

Catherine was already lying down.

“Please argue more softly.”

Celine smiled, but when Leo bent to kiss her, she kept him close for a moment.

Noctis stirred between them.

A warm spark flickered beneath his blanket.

Leo rested a finger against his son’s tiny hand and waited until it closed around him.

Darian entered the valley under a covered wagon canopy.

Marcus had insisted on the covering before anyone asked.

People would learn what had happened. Rumors were already moving through the settlement. But Darian would not be carried through the streets for everyone to stare at.

The infirmary chamber stood beside an older storehouse near the northern wall. Its stone floor had been scrubbed. The windows opened onto an empty yard, and the elders had placed fresh wards along the walls.

Two guards waited outside.

Inside, Seraphine directed the placement of cooling stones while Celine’s mentor examined every corner of the enclosure he had built around the bed.

Darian watched from the stretcher.

His mother stood where he could see her.

When the bearers lifted him, his long arm slipped over the edge. One guard caught it before it struck the floor.

Darian recoiled.

The guard stopped moving.

“I’m only helping you onto the bed.”

For a moment, Darian stared at the man’s hand around his wrist.

Then he lowered his head.

Once he was settled, Seraphine sent everyone except his mother out of the chamber.

She remained near the bed.

“We need to clean the wounds along your back,” she said. “Can you turn onto your side?”

Darian tried.

The movement pulled a harsh breath from him.

His mother stepped forward instinctively.

The ward brightened beneath her hand.

She stopped.

Seraphine placed a cushion within Darian’s reach.

“Use that. Slowly.”

It took several attempts.

By the time he had moved, his mother was looking toward the window with tears running down her face.

Darian watched her reflection in the glass.

“Go home.”

She turned.

“I’m staying.”

“I don’t want you here.”

Seraphine paused with a folded cloth in her hand.

His mother stood very still.

Then Darian closed his eyes.

“Not for this.”

Understanding changed her face.

She approached the edge of the ward, close enough that he could hear her without effort.

“I’ll be outside the door.”

He gave the smallest nod.

She left.

Seraphine waited until the latch settled.

Then she drew the blanket back carefully.

Leo woke to voices in the courtyard.

For an instant, he thought something had happened.

Then he heard Edmund complaining that someone had borrowed his measuring chain without returning it.

He lay still.

Catherine slept beside him, her hand beneath her cheek. Celine’s place was empty.

From the adjoining room came Noctis’s babbling.

Leo rose and found Celine near the window with their son across her knees.

A wooden rattle hovered several inches above the floor.

Noctis stared at it with fierce concentration.

Celine looked at Leo.

“It has been there for nearly a minute.”

“Did you put it there?”

“No.”

The rattle turned.

Noctis sneezed.

It dropped.

Leo caught it before it hit the floor.

His son looked delighted.

“I’m glad one of us finds this restful,” Celine told him.

Leo sat beside her.

The morning light touched her face, and he noticed how tired she still looked.

“Did you sleep?”

“Some.”

He took Noctis when she offered him.

The baby immediately grasped his collar.

For a while, neither adult spoke.

Then Celine asked, “What did Darian say before you left?”

Leo told her.

He did not soften the part about things that belonged to them.

Her expression changed, but she listened to the end.

“I remember hearing them talk,” she said.

Leo looked up.

“Before the dungeon. Before everything. They spoke about the marriage as though I wasn’t standing there.”

His grip tightened around Noctis.

Celine watched the baby’s hand opening and closing against Leo’s shirt.

“I helped him last night because he was suffering,” she said. “That doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten.”

“I know.”

“I need him to know.”

Leo nodded.

“When you want to tell him, I’ll go with you.”

She rested her head against his shoulder.

“In a little while.”

The council met after midday.

Marcus kept it small. Tomas, Seraphine, Edran, Celine’s mentor, Edmund, and the three of them gathered around the table.

A bowl of cooling stones stood beside Seraphine’s notes. Several had cracked.

“Those came from his room?” Leo asked.

“Yes. His body is producing more heat than it can safely contain.”

“Can you stop it?”

“I can draw some of it away.”

She placed a finger beside one of her observations.

“The blessed water helps the damaged tissue. It also weakens the markings around his throat. But each time those markings loosen, the fire becomes less controlled.”

Celine frowned.

“So we can’t simply keep giving him more.”

“Not safely.”

Tomas sat back.

“Silas made the corruption part of the mechanism.”

Leo stared at the cracked stones.

His mother’s fire was inside Darian.

The thought still made something recoil within him.

Seraphine watched him.

“Leo.”

He raised his eyes.

“What is in that room is hurting him. We can understand where it came from and still treat what it is doing now.”

He drew a breath.

“What do you need?”

“A stable way to take the excess flame. Small amounts at first.”

“I can try.”

“With me,” Tomas said.

Leo nodded.

Across the table, Marcus opened another report.

“There is also the question of what we tell the clan.”

Edmund rubbed his beard.

“People saw the wagon. Half the northern road saw the light last night.”

“Tell them Darian returned injured and under magical influence,” Leo said. “He is being treated under guard. He has warned us of a threat, and the elders are investigating it.”

One of the older men near the door shifted uneasily.

Leo recognized him from the families who had fled Vale territory.

“He stood with Lance,” the man said.

“Yes.”

“Some will object to using our healers for him.”

Leo glanced toward Celine.

She sat upright.

“The wards and guards stay,” she said. “There will be questions when he is strong enough to answer them.”

Catherine added, “His mother and brother have done nothing wrong. I want that made clear.”

Marcus nodded and wrote it down.

The older man studied the twins, then lowered his gaze.

“I’ll speak to the others.”

Darian could hold a spoon by late afternoon.

His younger brother had wrapped cloth around the handle until it fitted between his altered fingers.

It was an awkward arrangement.

The first mouthful spilled down his chin.

The second reached his mouth.

His brother pretended to be interested in the window.

Darian looked at him.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend.”

The boy’s face reddened.

“I didn’t know whether you wanted me to watch.”

Darian looked down at the spoon.

“Neither do I.”

They sat in silence.

Then his brother pulled a slate from his bag.

“I brought my schoolwork.”

Darian stared.

“Here?”

“I have to finish it.”

“What is it?”

“Fractions.”

Darian gave a dry, painful little laugh.

“I hated fractions.”

“I know. You told me they were useless.”

A long pause followed.

Darian studied the thick cloth around the spoon.

“Don’t listen to everything I told you.”

His brother looked up.

Before he could answer, someone knocked.

Leo entered with Celine and Catherine.

The boy stood quickly.

“You can stay,” Leo said.

Darian’s gaze moved between the sisters.

He tried to sit higher.

Pain stopped him.

Celine drew a chair near the ward.

“Don’t.”

He settled back.

For a few moments, no one spoke.

Then Darian said, “I’m sorry.”

Celine’s hands remained folded in her lap.

“For what?”

He looked at her.

She waited.

His younger brother stood beside the window, the slate held against his chest.

Darian swallowed.

“For believing I had a right to decide what happened to you.”

Celine’s expression did not soften.

“And Catherine?”

His eyes turned toward her sister.

“For the same thing.”

Catherine rested both hands on her staff.

“I heard you laugh once,” she said. “After Leo visited us. You told someone he could keep us if he wanted two broken women.”

Darian stopped breathing.

His brother looked at him.

Celine stared at her sister.

Catherine had never told them.

Leo felt heat gather in his palms.

He closed his hands slowly.

Darian’s mouth moved, but no words came.

Finally, he bowed his head.

“I said it.”

Catherine nodded once.

“Yes.”

The room remained quiet.

Darian began to cry.

He tried to turn away, but the damaged shoulder would not let him.

Celine watched him without speaking.

After a while, Catherine rose.

“We wanted to see whether you could hear us now.”

Darian looked up.

“I can.”

“Then remember.”

Leo opened the door for them.

Darian did not ask them to stay.

Outside, Celine caught her sister’s hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Catherine stood still in the little yard.

“At the time, you were having a bad week.”

“So were you.”

“I know.”

Leo waited beside them.

Catherine’s face trembled.

“I didn’t want those words in the house.”

Celine stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her.

Catherine held her tightly.

Leo moved close enough that they could lean into him.

For a while, the three of them stood beneath the infirmary window while someone inside quietly set a slate on the table.

The first attempt to draw away Darian’s fire failed.

Leo held his hand above a shallow stone vessel while Seraphine guided a thread of flame from Darian’s forearm.

It reached the vessel.

Then it surged toward Leo.

Tomas caught his wrist and pulled him back.

The flame struck a shield Seraphine raised between them.

Darian cried out.

“Enough,” she said.

The fire settled.

Leo stared at the blackened edge of his sleeve.

“It recognized me.”

“Perhaps,” Tomas said. “Or it found a stronger source to feed from. Don’t decide too quickly.”

Seraphine examined Darian’s arm.

“We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Leo almost argued.

Then he looked at Darian’s exhausted face.

Tomorrow.

They had kept him alive long enough for there to be one.

As Tomas gathered the vessels, Darian lifted his head.

“There are books.”

Leo turned.

“Where?”

“The place where he changed us. Before we went into the mountain.”

Marcus, who had been waiting by the door, came closer.

“Describe it.”

“An old hunting lodge. North of Vale’s lower orchards. The roof is burned on one side.”

Marcus knew it.

Leo saw the recognition in his face.

“Silas worked below it,” Darian continued. “There were rooms cut into the hill. Shelves. Glass containers.”

He stopped, breathing hard.

“Notes about what he did to you?” Seraphine asked.

“Yes.”

Leo felt the beginnings of a plan take shape.

Not the Hollow.

Somewhere Silas had worked before returning to it.

“What guards?” Marcus asked.

“There were two when we arrived. I don’t know if they stayed.”

“How long ago?”

Darian closed his eyes.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s enough for tonight,” Seraphine said.

Marcus stepped away from the bed with Leo.

“I can send scouts before dawn.”

“Only to observe,” Leo said. “No one enters until we know what’s there.”

Tomas nodded.

“I’ll go with them.”

Leo looked back at Darian.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

Darian’s eyes opened.

“I couldn’t remember the way out of the room.”

His voice shook.

“I kept remembering the table.”

Supper was late again.

This time, Leo arrived before the food had gone cold.

Celine had Noctis against her shoulder. Catherine sat beside her, listening while Elara described the baby’s latest offense against ordinary household rules.

“He moved my sewing basket.”

Leo took his seat.

“How far?”

“Onto the cupboard.”

Celine glanced at him.

“Don’t look impressed.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

Noctis lifted his head unsteadily at the sound of Leo’s voice.

Leo reached for him.

His son settled into his arms with a small sigh, one fist pressed against his chest.

Across the table, Marcus caught Leo’s eye.

The scouts were arranged.

Nothing more needed to be said tonight.

Catherine found Leo’s hand beneath the table.

Celine leaned against his shoulder for a moment before reaching for her plate.

Leo looked around at them, then down at Noctis.

When his mother had taught him the blessing in a dream, he had thought only of bringing water home to Celine and Catherine.

Now a guarded room waited near the northern wall.

A mother sat outside it.

A boy had left his schoolwork beside his brother’s bed.

Tomorrow, they would look for the place where Silas had begun his work.

Tonight, Leo accepted the bowl Elara passed him and ate while his son slept.