31. Chapter Thirty-One

The next morning, I walked Laurel home.

As the two of us were wading through the crowded Market District in relative silence, there was so much I wanted to say. So many words of comfort that I wanted to offer my friend, but they all turned to ash on my tongue as I realized I could promise nothing.

I was never good at pleasantries or telling lies for the sake of other people’s comfort. In truth, there was no reassurance to be found here, nothing sincere that I could give. Nothing true.

There was nothing sane about this scenario, and we both knew that. All I could really offer was to hold her hand as we walked together in the cold air—and to make sure she knew she wasn’t alone.

“Don’t be a stranger,” I murmured, kissing the top of her head as we reached her apartment. “I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks, Ark,” she sniffed. “I really appreciate that. I appreciate you.”

There was a certain thinness to her tone and the weak smile she offered as she turned to go that left me lingering.

“Hey, Laur?” I called out hesitantly before she pulled her keys out from her coat pocket.

“Yeah?”

“Would you like me to stay? Keep you company for a bit?”

Laurel shook her head, though her eyes softened a bit at the offer. “No. Thank you, though. I think… I think I just need to be alone for a little while.”

That, I completely understood.

“Of course. I’m just a mail sprite away, though, okay?”

She nodded once before heading inside and I exhaled heavily, not realizing that I had been holding my breath.

As I meandered home slowly, I tried to wrap my head around who could do such a heinous thing.

Who would steal a child? And why? To what end? Perhaps it was just my own naivete that left me so shaken. Amaretta had warned me long ago that life in the cities was different, that there were criminals and soulless creatures out there who preyed upon the weak. She had been concerned that there would be those who mistook mysoftness for weakness, and had all but beaten certain safety practices in me before she ever let me explore Elseweire.

I was beginning to think there was a reason she gave me her old research studio, too, as opposed to letting me stay in the student apartments. A reason beyond her typical motherly paranoia, that is. Perhaps not even Sophrosyne was entirely safe from such mortal monsters.

A slight shiver ran down my spine at the notion.

I took a detour on my way home, unable to resist the temptation to wander through one of the nearby gardens. There were a handful of floral hedge mazes scattered throughout the city, but I knew that this one had a small swinging bench beneath curtains of hanging wisteria—a lovely place for quiet contemplation.

Every few meters, there were enchanted slates on pedestals that contained puzzles, riddles and other mind-teasers. Upon success, the hedges would part and grant you one pathway closer to the center. If you got the answers wrong, the hedges turned you around instead, completely obfuscating your progress. Complex, but delightful spellwork—crafted by the Elders, I had to presume.

Many of my classmates seemed to hate this place, claiming it was a headache and a half and not worth the effort. But I spent hours here, particularly whenever I needed to clear my head. The puzzles reset every week.

It only took me about twenty minutes to arrive at the center this morning, and I eagerly claimed my prize: To sit quietly by myself, swinging gently and staring into space, letting my mind go blank. The water fountains had been replaced by fire pits during the winter months, and I was grateful for their warmth.

At some point, I had closed my eyes, focusing only on the swinging sensation and the way it reminded me of calm nights on the ship where the waves had rocked me to sleep, back and forth.

“What’s on your mind, Little Conduit?”

Kieran had appeared out of thin air, joining me on the bench with two mugs of tea in hand. It used to startle the shit out of me, the way he would creep up behind me without warning—but I had grown accustomed to the way he seemed to move in silence. I had almost expected him to show up this morning, even though we hadn’t planned to meet up until noon.

“I’m worried about Laurel,” I said quietly, thumbing the small stone in my pocket as I so often did when anxious. Though I wasn’t looking at him, I felt Kieran stiffen briefly, and then release a heavy sigh.

So he knew, then.

“Yeah,” he said, voice strained. “That’s fair.”

“I know you can’t talk about it,” I said, fixing my gaze on the horizon in an effort not to search his face for answers that I knew I would not find. “But could you at least, maybe… Ah, nevermind.”

“At least, what?”

“It isn’t fair of me to ask,” I replied. “I know the rules.”

“You are almost always the exception to my rules, Arken. What is it?”

I did my best to ignore the warmth blooming in my chest, the way it always seemed to whenever Kieran let slip the fact that I was special to him in any way, shape or form. He was so charismatic that it was easy to forget that the man let a scant few people even remotely close to his personal life.

“How long have you known?” I asked, hoping like Hel that my tone didn’t sound accusatory. I wasn’t entitled to his privileged information, but…

“I found out this morning.”

“Oh.”

It wasn’t fair for that to be such a relief—but it was. It really was.

“I wouldn’tve kept that from you,” Kieran murmured, and I leaned my head against his shoulder for a moment, as if to channel my appreciation in silence.

“Could you at least tell me if there’s… any hope at all? For Amir?” I asked softly, shrinking a bit with shame for having asked another question.

Did I even really want to know? Was that a burden I was prepared to bear, even for Laurel?

“There’s hope, Ark,” Kieran said, keeping his voice low as he wrapped one arm around my shoulders, offering me that second mug of tea which I had forgotten about.

I took it gratefully, immediately comforted by the warmth of the ceramic against my palms. It had been so cold this morning that I could see my breath along the way here. The scent of cloves and cinnamon was an immediate balm against my fraying nerves.

“We’re doing everything we can,” Kieran said. “I promise.”

This left me with more questions than answers.

Why was the Elder Guard so involved with a crime in Samhaven? How did he know already? What exactly did he doas a Scouting amp; Reconnaissance Captain, to be so aware of what was happening in territories beyond Sophrosyne?

I knew his duties extended beyond training new recruits and running patrols with his squadrons—the two things I often got to watch from afar—but I also knew better than to ask for details.

“I wish I could tell you more,” he sighed, as if he could read my mind. “And I wish I had better news for Laurel. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.”

“She’s pretty fucked up right now,” I admitted. “Quiet. Somber. It would almost be funny, how absurdly out of character that is for her… if it weren’t so frightening. They say she might be assigned a personal guard… that she could be another target.”

“Yeah,” Kieran said. “I know.”

“Would it be one of your men?” I asked after a deep sip of tea, the warmth of cinnamon and cloves coating my tongue. “Am I even allowed to ask that?”

“You can ask me whatever you like, freshling, I just can’t always answer,” Kieran reminded me. “But yes. It would likely be someone from my unit.”

I allowed myself to take the slightest of comforts in that. If any of the guards could keep her safe, it would be one of Kieran’s own.

“Good,” I murmured, staring at my boots. “That’s good.”

Kieran and I sat in stark, but somewhat comfortable silence for several minutes before he spoke again.

“So what are your plans for the rest of the morning?” he asked, and I shrugged.

“Not much. I was just going to go home and study before meeting up with you for lunch later. You showed up too early, stalker.”

I tried to keep my tone light, playful as we so often were, but the words came out a bit more brittle than I intended.

Kieran still smirked at the accusation, though, and for a moment the weight of the last twenty-four hours seemed to lift from my chest as his pearly white teeth gleamed, peeking out from behind his lips.

“I don’t see you complaining about the personal tea delivery service,” he replied smoothly, without missing a beat. He was right, of course. This was exactly what I’d needed.

“That said, I did promise Hans and Jer that I’d review some of the new combat training protocols they’ve been working on. You wanna come with?”

“Am I allowed to?” I asked, raising a brow.

Most of Kieran’s men didn’t seem to mind whenever I hung around, but training protocols with his lieutenants seemed like privileged information, and I didn’t want to push my luck.

His smirk stretched into an all out grin, seemingly entertained by my hesitancy.

“I’m more of an ‘ask forgiveness’ than an ‘ask permission’ sort of man these days. Come along, Little Conduit. Let’s go give the boys a chance to show off.”