I had to blink, to let my eyes adjust to the dimness. The tent seemed full of people, the Elders on their tiers, warriors milling about. I took a few more steps and my presence cut through the noise like a knife. There was complete silence as Greatheart and I walked between the two fire pits.
Essa was there, seated on a stool. Battered and bruised, but he appeared whole. He was gaping at me, the Eldest Singer at a loss for words. Wild Winds was next to him, also looking worse for wear. “Xylara, Daughter of Xy, we thought you—”
“Stop.” My voice was hard, and only I knew how brittle it was. I was afraid I’d start sobbing, but my anger was white hot. “Your words are as nothing to me.”
Essa blanched, and dropped his eyes. Wild Winds closed his mouth.
I glared at them all, letting my eyes roam the tiers. “Your words hold no truth, no meaning, and I will not hear them.” I paused to take a breath. My knees were starting to tremble. Greatheart stood silently next to me, swishing his tail back and forth.
“I demand,” my voice cracked, but I kept talking. “I demand that you give me the body of Keir of the Cat, my Warlord.” Essa’s head came up and his mouth opened, but I cut him off. “I will take his body, and return to the Kingdom of Xy, with any who wish to travel with me.” I drew a shuddering breath. “I’ll give him to the earth, where the Plains meet the borders of Xy, so that he will be of both lands, forever.”
I straightened my back, and found the strength to continue. “I share Keir’s dream. I will heal any who ask it, be they of Xy or of the Plains.” My rage flared within me. “But I will not come before this Council again. Ever.”
Wild Winds stood, a bit unsteady on his feet. “Xylara.”
I focused my rage on him. “Give me my Warlord, you arrogant bastard.”
There was a commotion from behind me, the sound of running feet. I tensed, sure that I was about to be attacked.
“Lara!” It was Simus. He caught me in a hug. “Lara, we thought you dead!”
That did it. The barriers I’d built about my pain started to crumble. I wrapped my arms around Simus’s neck and clung for dear life. “Simus, I saw him die. I saw Keir die.”
Simus pulled back a bit, head down to look into my eyes. He looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept. “Lara? But—”
I didn’t want to break down in front of the Council, but I couldn’t stop my tears. “I was on Greatheart, and he was running, but I looked back and saw Keir die. Then he and Epor and Isdra were there, and they helped me escape.”
“You saw the dead?” Essa’s voice was hushed. The tent was so silent, I heard Wild Winds gasp. “They aided you?” Essa continued, his voice filled with wonder.
“Gils too. Keir rode with the dead, Simus.” I ignored everything else except Simus’s kind dark eyes. “My beloved is . . .” My voice cracked, and Simus drew me in close and wrapped his arms around me. “Simus, take me to him.” I spoke into his leather armor. “Take me to Keir. Please?”
There was another commotion, the sound of warriors running into the tent. I didn’t bother to look, just hugged Simus and waited for him to speak.
“Little Healer.” Simus’s voice rumbled in my ear. He pulled back, and put his hands on my shoulders. “You gave me back my life in Xy, when you healed my leg.” His tired eyes sparkled and he gave me a gentle, knowing smile. “Let me give you back yours, eh?”
With that, he gently turned me around to face the entrance.
Keir stood there, out of breath, his mouth open, staring at me as if he’d seen a ghost.
Chapter 17
It couldn’t be.
Simus’s hands were warm on my shoulders as I stood there, gazing at my beloved.
It wasn’t him of course. It couldn’t be. I pressed back against Simus. “Simus,” I whispered in despair, trying to make him understand. “Keir rides with the dead.”
“Look again, Little Healer.” Simus’s voice was soft, and seemed to tremble in my ear, whether from sorrow or laughter, I couldn’t say. “He lives, Lara.”
“Lara?” Keir took a step forward, his eyes wide and desperate. “Lara?” His voice was a hush, as if he couldn’t believe. There was color in those blue eyes, blood on his...
I cried out then, and ran to him. His arms opened, taking me up and into their warmth, wrapping tight around me. He was warm and real and breathing ...
Goddess and all the stars above, Keir was alive!
My arms wrapped around his neck as I covered his face in kisses. Keir’s strength seemed to drain out of him, and he sank to his knees. My own body went boneless and I melted down with him. His cloak wrapped around us, cutting us off from the eyes of the Elders. We were sheltered in each other.
“I saw,” I sobbed even as I stroked his face. His warm, living skin moved under my fingers. “I saw you . . .”
“Keekai. You saw Keekai, fire of my heart.” Keir’s voice was a rasp. “Keekai fell in combat, not I.”
I clutched at him then, weeping. “It must have been her who rode with me into the herds.”
Keir’s face was stark, his eyes filled with pain.
“You’re alive,” I breathed, amazed. I moved my hands to his waist and then let them curve up around his back. The cold links of his mail couldn’t disguise the feel of his hard body. I started sobbing, taking in great gulps of air.
Keir murmured in my ear, and rubbed his hands over my back. “I’m here, Lara.”
It was almost too much to believe. Keir, alive, healthy, back in my arms, his breath tickling my ear. All our dreams, all of our future, all given back to me in an instant. I didn’t dare believe.
And yet there was that spicy scent to his skin. I started to laugh, even as my tears fell. “Oh, beloved.”
Keir wiped at my cheeks with his thumb, and then kissed me. The salt of my tears, the warm taste of his mouth, it was true, it was true . . .
Keir lived. And so did I.
I came to my senses, becoming aware of the people around us. I choked back my sobs, trying to get my emotions under control. I looked out from the shelter of Keir’s arms, even as he looked up.
Prest stood before us, as did Rafe, looking out and away. Ander and Yveni had our backs, facing toward the entrance. Each was battered and bloody, yet each had a weapon at the ready, and from their stance it was clear that no one was getting close to us. Prest was wielding a sword. Where was the warclub? But I had other worries.
Simus stood further in front of Prest and Rafe. He had his back to us, his arms crossed over his chest. The Eldest and Elders were focused on Keir and me, the entire tent silent.
I tucked my head back into the shelter of Keir’s arms, but not before I saw Joden standing off to the side, his face stricken with pain.
“Keir,” I asked softly, not wanting to be heard. “Who lives?”
Keir’s head was down. He moved just enough so that his breath warmed my ear. “Those you see. And—”
Warriors entered the tent, apparently with a prisoner. Our guards tensed, and Simus pulled a sword as well. I lifted my head just enough to see a prisoner dragged within, around the outside of the fire pits, and then dumped at Essa’s feet. The man’s hands were bound behind him, and one of his guards grabbed his hair, and pulled his head up.
It was Iften.
He looked the worse for wear, stripped down to trous, and barefoot. He’d lost those bracers, and even at this distance, I could see that his arm was crooked, the fingers curled.
Another commotion. Everyone around me was already on guard, but this time it was Reness, striding past the fire pits. “She lives?” Reness asked of Essa. “You found her?”