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“Win is not the word I would use,” Ha’ral finally said tactfully.
Leon shook his head, his face grim but determined. “We won more than we could have hoped for.”
Sebastian let out a frustrated growl. “What does that even mean? What happened?”
“The Klah’Eel shot down the Barzen right over Ralscoln and the Southern Tava heartland.” Zyk crossed his arms and spoke clearly and frankly, as though the words were mildly interesting but couldn’t touch him. “They poisoned it all.”
Sebastian’s blood chilled. “What?” He looked to Leon to see a shadow over his face. “What?”
Leon nodded grimly and didn’t say anything. Sebastian’s ears rushed with blood, and the sunlight seemed to dim around him. Poisoned? With the fear gas? All of Ralscoln and the heartland of his home?
Zyk continued, the only one of them who didn’t seem too horrified by the news to articulate it. “To the other species states, that was the last straw. The Klah’Eel have been under pressure since the original invasion to solve the refugee crisis they caused. But with that move, they made it ten times worse.”
“Emissary Serihk decided they’d fucked it all up enough,” Leon finally spoke up. “He pushed for the full liberation of Southern Tava from any species state. Said it was the only way to stop the bloody battles over it.”
Sebastian’s mouth fell open, and he mentally rearranged his opinion of the Qeshian Emissary. “The Qesh made the Klah’Eel surrender to us?”
“The Qesh and the Humans both. Plus, they were facing some internal pressure.” Ha’ral shrugged. “They never should have invaded in the first place.”
“And that’s it?” Sebastian ran his hands through his hair and blew a breath out as he stared back down at the map. The sunlight started to shine again, and his horror gave way. “Southern Tava”—he looked up at Leon—“we are independent again? We rule ourselves?”
Leon chuckled and pointed a finger between the two of them. “Well, we are still wanted terrorists, which is why we’re here hiding out with the cartel. But the Resistance is in talks with the newly forming government to get us pardoned. Given our good cause and a desire to wipe the slate clean, that’s looking likely.”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “You mean the government that might have my family at the head of it?”
“That’s the one,” Zyk chirped. “The same one that rules a continent that’s currently an uninhabitable wasteland.”
“For now.” Leon shot him a sharp look.
Zyk raised his hands apologetically. “For now.”
“And so what are we doing about that?” Sebastian stepped forward. Eager anticipation fizzed in his chest. He’d fought for years just to keep up the idea of this country. He’d never even conceived of a world in which he might actually get to serve it.
Leon met his eyes with a grin that mirrored Sebastian’s own eagerness back at him. “Plenty.”
Without another delay, Leon launched into an overview of the rescue and reconnaissance organization that the Resistance had morphed into alongside the cartel. Plenty of people in Carta still thought of themselves as from Southern Tava, so there was no shortage of hands willing to work to get it back.
And the cartel had grown powerful off the influx of refugees: their needs, their labor, and their drive. With the winds changing, they weren’t going to sacrifice the chance to get their fingers into the pie now.
The qeshian scientist that had been slated to duplicate the gas was now devising studies to figure out what the long-term effects of the gas on Southern Tava ecology could be and how it might be cleaned up. Operations were being planned to safely evacuate more civilians still trapped on the surface and to gather intelligence, though none had yet been deployed.
Sebastian was about to insist on being on the first ship down, seeing as his torvar physiology gave him an advantage, when Zyk put a hand on his shoulder. “Your excitement is inspiring, but if I have to listen to your stomach rumble one more time, I’m going to lose it.”
Sebastian deflated and glanced down at his belly. “Right. Haven’t eaten in days.”
“Exactly.” Zyk pushed both Sebastian and Leon toward the open wall of the pavilion. “And I really thought your reunion would be a lot more romantic and a lot less business-oriented, so why don’t you two give it a rest.”
Sebastian laughed and glanced at Leon to see a touch of color high on his cheeks, which just made him laugh harder.
Leon scowled at him and turned back toward one of the tent alleys. “Come on then.”
Sebastian snickered and chased after him. “That wasn’t romantic.”
As soon as they stepped around a corner, Leon spun around and pressed him against a wooden pole. He captured his lips in a hungry lunge, crushing him back against the poll and kissing him with bruising intensity. His rough hands took Sebastian’s face and angled his head this way and that and devoured him whole.
Sebastian moaned and let himself be swept away, but all too soon, Leon broke the kiss and nipped at his lips. “Was that romantic?”
Sebastian tried to lean in for more kisses instead of words, but Leon just took his hand and pulled him back down the alley. Sebastian pouted. “I don’t know. I need you to do it again so I can be sure.”
