Page 153 of Aryn

He sits and cranks the ignition. She jumps back with a hiss before creeping forward to touch the hood, then yanks her hand back again when she feels the engine running underneath.

“It is alive, and purring. This is unnatural.”

Rhael looks equally fascinated and wary. “This is… remarkable. But how does it know where to go?”

We spend the next several minutes trying to explain cars, engines, and driving while Ailynor and her guards listen with growing skepticism. She’s particularly confused about how something can move on its own without magic or beasts to pull it. As we’re figuring out how to fit everyone inside, tires approach in the field.

“Hide,” Cato orders.

We duck into the trees. Ailynor’s guards draw their weapons, but she holds up a hand, watching warily as another large van approaches. The door opens, and Sovran steps out, calm as ever.

“It’s alright,” I say as I step out into the clearing. “He’s a friend.”

Sovran scans our group, assessing us for injuries before turning his attention to the new faces. “I saw your return, and your”—he glances at the van—“predicament. I came to help.”

Ailynor’s eyes narrow. “You are the seer?”

His chin dips in a solemn nod. “And you are the rebel queen.”

“And Ronan’s mom,” Cameron drawls as he steps forward with his arms crossed. “Kinda forgot to mention that little tidbit in your debrief.”

A flicker of surprise crosses Sovran’s face before he smooths it out. “As I have explained, my sight does not show me everything. It only gives me glimpses.”

“And you didn’t glimpse that piece of information?”

“I did not,” Sovran confirms. “Only that it was important for Ronan and Aryn to go.” His eyes dart to me, head tilting while he waits for me to answer the question he never asked.

My throat dips in a rough swallow. “My son… Brihn. He lives. He was the reason we got an audience with the Vaelor.”

“And the reason we’re still alive,” Cato mutters.

“And that,” I agree.

Sovran’s eyes drop to Cato’s exposed arm, cataloguing the mark that winds across his skin. My tail drapes over my shoulder lazily, and his gaze shifts to the freckled skin among the red.

“That’s new.”

Cato huffs a quiet laugh. “You’re telling me.”

Ailynor steps closer, examining Sovran with intense calm. “If you are this seer, you are the reason the worlds are dying.”

Sovran doesn’t flinch. “Yes.”

“If you could not see the danger in your actions, how can we trust you now? Dividing our worlds is what now kills them. Maybe your prophecy will be the final straw before they both collapse.”

“I made many mistakes,” Sovran admits, “and I have paid the price. I did what was necessary. The veil had to close to give us time. Now it must open again.”

The skepticism from Ailynor and her people is palpable. If there was any question about her formidability as a leader, it disappears as we watch her question him. Her posture is regal in a combative way, chin tilted the same way as Ronan’s when he’s convinced his way is the best one.

She demands answers about his involvement in the destruction, his meddling in the Fates’ plans, his motives, and whether he can be trusted. Zadeus’s name is wielded like a weapon that Sovran has no defense against, but when dust appears on the horizon, I realize the interrogation needs to wait.

“Please,” I interrupt, stepping between them and glancing back and forth. Gold eyes meet mine on one side, deep brown on the other. “I understand this is important, Vaelor. I do. But there is a time and a place for this conversation, and that is when we are safe.”

Ailynor flashes her fangs at me for daring to interrupt, but when the logic of my words lands, she reluctantly takes a step back and glances at Ronan. “We can trust him?”

“We can,” he answers without hesitation.

“Sovran saved my life,” Cato adds. “More than once.”