Season of Glory (25 page)

But then I saw the others had arrived. Raniero, fully revealed in angelic form, landed
to Dri's left, sword in hand. Another man, equally as strong and regal, stood on
her right. Still others appeared, and interspersed between them all were the Remnants
and their Knights of the Last Order.

Sneering, Sethos turned slowly, still on his feet with more than eight arrows through
his chest. I looked for the other tracker, suddenly terrified that he neared me
or one of my Ailith kin, but he'd disappeared.

When Sethos completed his turn, he stared straight at Raniero.

“This is not over.”

“No!” Niero cried, racing toward him, all sinew and bulging muscle and wide wing.

But by the time he reached the center of the circle, Sethos was gone, leaving only
his red robe behind.

CHAPTER
27

ANDRIANA

I
could feel the collective awe among my fellow Ailith as we watched one of Raniero's
angelic
companions
shoot into the sky, chasing after Sethos. I could see both as streaks above me, flying
faster than any bird or drone or even the helicopter.

“Whoa,” Vidar said beside me, “if you could've seen that . . .”

“I did,” I said, turning toward him. He was but a light silhouette to me, but I
knew him, clearly.

“You saw that?” he said. “Two streaks in the sky?”

“Yes! It's all I
can
see right now. Is that the kind of thing you see all the time?”

“All the time. Lately, it seems like whenever I close my eyes, I see everyone as
either light or dark.”

“Vidar,” I said, reaching out to touch his arm. Knowing he wasn't understanding yet.
“That's what I see too.”

“You do?”

I nodded.

He quieted as the others gathered, all talking at once. “So tell me, Dri,” he said.
“What do you see when you look toward Keallach?”

I turned and gazed in Keallach's direction, where he was facing off with Killian
and Ronan. “His silhouette is light but not nearly as bright as yours, or any of
the Ailith.”

“Right,” Vidar muttered, taking me by the hand. “That's what I'd call spiritual confusion.
The guy isn't fully swayed, one way or another, despite what he says. But maybe he
can't be if we don't welcome him in? I mean, how can a man join a family if the family
keeps him standing outside in the rain?”

I thought about that. “It could be.”

“So what happened to your eyes?”

“The lightning,” I said. “When it struck the helicopter, I was very close and staring
right up at it.”

Tressa was there, then, reaching up to touch my face. “Dri?”

“Tressa,” I breathed out in relief, hope rising within me. Vidar stepped aside so
Tressa could begin her work. She helped me sit and then tilted my head up, clearly
examining me, then she bent her head, as if listening. I felt the quickening of
her pulse and the pleasure that shot through her as she heard from her Maker, and
I had no choice but to smile along with her. But if she heard something audible from
him, I couldn't make that out.

“So . . .” I said hesitantly, willing myself not to cry. “How bad is it? Am I to
be healed?”

“He's already begun his good work,” she said, laying gentle fingertips across my
eyelids a moment and praying aloud. “Now come back to the Citadel. I'll see to you
further, and you should rest. Come morning, we'll pray your vision is back to normal.”

“That's a prayer I'd welcome, again and again,” I said, accepting her hand and rising.
She tucked my hand through the crook of her elbow, and Ronan returned to my other
side.

“I could carry you,” he half-offered, gruff and irritated. It didn't take my empathic
skills to know that it was Keallach's presence that agitated him.

“I don't think you need to bear that particular burden,” I said, taking his hand.
“Just go slowly.”

“Ahh, Dri, you know I would if I had to,” he said quietly, pulling me closer for
a quick kiss to the side of my head. “I'm so relieved you are all right. That you
weren't hurt more in the fight. Or from that helicopter . . .”

“Thanks to Keallach,” I said. “He saved me, Ronan.”

I felt the tightening in the muscles of his arm. “I'm aware of that.”

“He could have forced me away, if that was what he was after,” I said. “Between him
and Sethos, I wouldn't have had a chance.” I pulled him closer. “I think this is
the real thing. I think he's been called home at last and he's turning toward the
light. But Ronan, Vidar wondered that if we don't
welcome
him, he can only come so
far. He's behind us, in so many ways. Think of what our trainer taught us and showed
us over the years. Now think of what Sethos taught Keallach. We need to start training
his mind . . . and his heart. And the only way to do that is to give him a chance.”

“A chance,” Ronan repeated, heaving a breath. “Please, let's just get you back to
the Citadel. We can deal with
him
tomorrow.” With that, he took my arm and turned,
swinging me neatly onto his back with my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms
across his shoulders. I shrieked at first but then settled in, feeling the great
weariness of our battle settle down
upon me at last. I realized that, in carrying
me, Ronan felt joy and contentment and pride. Security, in certain measure.

I'd let him carry me, I decided, if it only brought out good feelings like that.
After the night we'd had, we needed all the good we could gather.

RONAN

I
found him the next night in one of the Citadel lookout alcoves. Usually, these
carved
balconies
in the rock face held armed guards. But tonight it was only Keallach, his arms outstretched
along the short wall before him, looking over a moonlit valley.

It irritated me that the elders had agreed to let him in, citing his defense of Andriana
and his battle against Sethos as evidence enough of his intent.

He'd been quiet and moody all day as the Community tended their wounded and burned
their dead. Even now, the acrid scent of charred flesh filled the air.

We'd lost more than forty brothers and sisters. Two of them had been children. The
elders had moved everyone into the Citadel, flooding it with people. Only four bands
of Aravanders and Drifters remained along the Valley floor, committed to remaining
as forward guards and scouts to sound the alarm if our enemies invaded again.

The halls and corridors were packed with hundreds and hundreds of people. It had
made me feel claustrophobic as I made my way through the Citadel looking for Keallach.
But somehow now, even when I was outside in the relative quiet, I felt equally as
pressed—short of breath, confused. My eyes narrowed at Keallach's back. Was it him,
somehow manipulating me?

But he glanced over his shoulder, as if sensing my presence, and seemed genuinely
surprised. “Ronan,” he said, edging to his right, making room for me. “I was just
admiring the view.”

I stepped forward and looked out over the Valley with him. It was beautiful. A three-quarter
moon in a cloudless sky made the river below us a glittering, waving ribbon. Even
in the relative dark, I could make out the deep umber and fading gold of trees steadily
preparing to molt their leaves. A cold breeze that more than hinted at Hoarfrost
rushed through the trees, and I closed my eyes to let the whooshing sound seep into
me, reassuring me. It was the song of home, of the Maker on the move, of a hope and
a future.

After the day we'd had, it was what I needed most.
Thank you, Maker
, I prayed.

“There is much joy here,” Keallach said, eyeing me sidelong for a moment before looking
out again. “Even after all you—we—have experienced of late. It's joy that I sense
the most. And it seems both oddly timed and yet perfect too, in the midst of everything.”

He seemed mystified by this, and I had to think it over a moment before I could respond.
Dri's words came back to me.
He's so far behind.
“It's the Community,” I said. “Even
in sorrow, we have one another. We know morning comes after the night. And we know
the Maker has not abandoned us. In those things alone, we have cause to celebrate,
to find hope and joy, regardless of what we face.”

Keallach was silent for a while, then asked, “How does Andriana fare?”

“She is resting again,” I said, trying not to betray how his question rankled me.
“Tressa prayed over her and set new poultices across her eyes. She thinks Dri will
be much better after another
night's rest—she thinks the Maker wants her to rest,
and this is how he's seeing it done.” I paused, trying to gather myself together
to say what I must. “Listen, Keallach, I wanted to thank you. If you hadn't been
there, when she was so vulnerable . . .” My voice cracked, and I coughed, embarrassed.

“It's what I would've done for any of you,” he said earnestly, “and what I hope,
in time, you all would do for me.”

When I didn't respond, he turned away and stared back out to the Valley. “I suspect
you didn't seek me out to simply express your thanks,” he led.

“No.”

I took a deep breath. “I suppose I am seeking confirmation. Reassurance that you
are here to stay with us. That your time with Sethos last night didn't sway you.”

“Weaken my resolve, you mean, to join you.”

“That too. Andriana . . .” I paused to choose my words. “After her encounters with
Sethos, she's been . . . susceptible, in a way. It's as if he leaves a trapdoor in
her mind and heart that can be utilized by the dark long after he leaves.”

Keallach nodded. “I know of what you speak. And perhaps it is what leaves me with
this lingering sense of separation. It's as if I know I am to be with the Community,
but I cannot fully engage. Something holds me back.” He paused, looking out to the
Valley, thoughtful. “
Sethos
holds me back. I hear his words in my head. Old words,
whispered to me over the years, and new words too.”

“My trainer always told me that the adversary had no sway in our minds and hearts
that we did not allow. My current experiences validate that thought,” I said.

Keallach let out a hollow laugh. “Sounds easy. But it is harder than that.”

I nodded. “It
is
hard. But it is also simple.”

He crossed his arms and turned to look me full in the face. “Explain.”

“It is hard, because it essentially means submission to the Maker. As a man, as a
Knight, I think we resist this submission. We want to conquer our adversary ourselves.
Beat him down.” I gestured to the water below us. “Consider the river. If you were
a part of it, you could choose to make your own way, on the edges, fighting through
rocks and dirt and trees to create your own current. Or you could enter deeper into
the center of flow that has already found its path, and follow where it leads. It's
working with the current, absorbing and utilizing its power, that makes the difference.”

Keallach studied me and nodded. And I didn't need Andriana's gift in order to feel
his gratitude, his relief, in comprehending what I was saying. “So simple . . . so
terribly simple,” he muttered, looking back to the river. “But hard.” He let out
another half laugh. “I've spent my whole life on the edges of the river. Making my
own way. Forcing my own way. Or Sethos's.”

“Maybe it's time you give sway to the Maker and discover what peace and joy truly
mean. It doesn't mean we don't encounter our share of rapids and waterfalls. But
we're always in the river, surrounded by him. And that makes all the difference.”

He nodded, smiling with me—and in that moment, I wondered what I was doing, doubted
what I was doing—but soon, his eyes narrowed. “Why are you helping me, Ronan?”

I shrugged and shoved my cold hands into my pockets, wondering the same. But after
a few seconds, the answer came to me. “Because I am the last one you would have expected,
right?”

“Well . . . Kapriel or Azarel and Bellona might have been close.”

I smiled at that. “True. But I'm well aware that I have my own unique complaints
against you. The Community is only as close as the two farthest individuals allow
it to be, and I never wish to be a
hindrance to the Community.” I glanced in his
direction. “And yet there are a couple of things that make me hesitate. As Dri's
protector and husband, I want to know you're true to your word, Keallach. That you've
left Pacifica and your dreams for her—and
you
—behind. That you can hold to this new
path and not be swayed by the nets you still feel bind you—Sethos's nets. But as
your brother, I also feel pressed to reach out a hand. To pull you into the current
before the moment has passed and you are too far behind to catch up. No matter how
much I, as a man, wouldn't mind if you were far in the distance, as far as Dri is
concerned.”

Keallach laughed, and this time the sound was genuine. “I never expected to hear
something so eloquent out of you, Knight.”

I grinned. “Believe me, they are not my words. They come from my trainer and the
elders of the Citadel, and those who came before them. But I am a good listener,
and I am glad to pass along wisdom to another.”

Keallach nodded. “You are a good man, Ronan. I'm telling you here and now that I'm
here to stay. I will prove myself in time—to you, to Dri, to the other Ailith. The
Maker has called me anew.”

“Good,” I said, measuring him carefully. “But I must know what you feel now for my
wife
, Andriana, specifically.”

He eyed me and straightened. “You said it yourself, Ronan. You've won her. You are
handfasted and to be formally betrothed five seasons hence. I've put my feelings
for her aside. I am now nothing but her brother and she my sister. I swear it to
you.”