Page 101 of Aryn

“Seems it does,” I agree, reaching over to squeeze his arm.

“He never stopped looking for you. He'd volunteer for every mission he could to get out there searching. When he was home, he would spend hours on the walls, just waiting. I grew up hearing stories of you every night.”

My eyes squeeze closed as a tear slips loose. “I'm thankful you had him.”

“He knew you'd come back. He never once gave up hope.”

I choke on a wet laugh. “Stubborn old man.”

“The most stubborn,” he agrees. “A trait passed between generations, as luck would have it.”

My lips pull into a bittersweet smile as I wipe my eyes. “What of your old friends?”

“Do you remember Galdren?”

“The one you used to run around with as a child?”

He nods with a fond smile. “The very same. He lives in the capitol now and heads the Vaelor’s royal guard.”

“You keep in touch after all these years?”

A faint flush colors his cheeks as his eyes dart away. “We do, yes.”

A sound from my right pulls my attention. Cato shifts between his feet, timid in a way he rarely allows himself to be. He’s staring at the floor, clearly trying to give us space, and I realize he hasn’t understood a single word we’ve said.

“I’ll give you two some time alone,” Cato says, flashing me an uncertain smile.

My heart feels like it’s being pulled in three different directions at once. The sharp grief of losing my father wars with the overwhelming relief of finding Brihn alive and grown. Both feelings fight for space with the deep, steady rightness of having Cato here beside me.

Brihn surprises me by switching to English. “Please, forgive my rudeness.”

My lips part in a bewildered laugh. “You speak their language.”

“Our library is still one of the largest in the lands,” he explains. “We have many of their writings here, and I have studied their tongue most of my life.”

“That’s incredible,” I say, shaking my head before turning back to Cato. “Please don’t go, rha khor.”

Brihn leans back and crosses his arms, his gaze moving between us. “He is important to you.”

“He is,” I agree. My tail flicks out from behind me, and the glow from my mark shimmers along the walls, dancing with the firelight.

Brihn watches the mark with the same wide-eyed curiosity he had as a child. “We saw this when you were with the healers. You have been blessed by the dirdira trees?” When I tilt my head in question, he nods toward the mark. “There are few humans here, but there are tales of those who carry a yellow sun beneath their skin, glowing like the dirdira. I have never seen one in person, only read about it.”

“Show him,” I say to Cato. He nods and pulls off his sweater, revealing the matching mark on his arm.

“This is why we’re here,” I explain. “You know about the divide between our world and the human one?”

He nods. “Yes, though my knowledge comes from the volumes I’ve read. It closed when I was a child.”

“It’s why Zadeus’s army took me,” I say. Brihn watches me carefully, like he’s finally getting answers to questions he’s carried for a lifetime. “I don’t know how much you were told about that day—”

“When he killed my mother and took my father, all in a span of minutes?”

The words land heavily. I glance away for a moment, the memory sharp. “They threatened you. You were only four years old—just a tiny thing—but that didn’t matter to them. There was no choice. If I hadn’t agreed to go with them, they would’ve taken me anyway, and they would’ve killed the entire village as punishment.”

“I know,” he insists, voice steady. “I do not blame you for this. But Zadeus disappeared so long ago, Father. Where have you been?”

My eyes find Cato’s. He seems to understand I need him right now, and he steps closer and sits on the bed beside me, weaving his fingers through mine. “Zadeus took his army through to invade the human lands,” I explain. “He took his scientists with him.”