38. Brett

Ididn't know what about the meeting, or the flying, or... anything that had happened in the last day had convinced him he needed to leave, but just hearing him demand to go almost broke me in half.

When he said his brother was sick, shamefully, I was relieved. It wasn't that he'd decided he was done with Nemeda, it was that there was something he needed to go back for.

Not that I'd ever tell him that his brother's illness had given me a moment's relief. That was too shameful to even look at too hard.

Still, I lay there next to him worrying.

He was right, of course. If his family was in trouble, he had to return. If he didn't go, then he wasn't the man I'd been falling in love with. If I were any kind of decent person, I'd support him in it.

So as much as I wanted to cling to him, demand he stay, keep him safe in my home forever, that wasn't a real option.

I caught sight of the letter that had sent him into the panic, and debated with myself for a moment about whether to look at it. It wasn't my business, not really. And yet, if Paris was going back to Urial, might be in danger?—

Paris startled me by snatching the thing up as I stared at it, holding it out to me.

I ducked my head. "I thought you were asleep."

"And you wanted to read it, but you weren't sure," he said, and for a moment, I thought he was annoyed with me. But then a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He was amused by my internal struggle. Obnoxious little brat. "So I thought I'd make it simple for you. There are no secrets in it. Not that we're really a secretive sort of family. No real skeletons in our closets."

I blinked at the strange comment, before connecting it to his previous statement and realizing that skeletons were supposed to represent awful secrets. A colloquialism. The people of Urial had always seemed the type to keep skeletons lying about to me, so it was good to know maybe that was an exaggeration true only in my head.

The letter was simple and to the point, and frankly, chilling.

Suddenly, I was worried about Paris's sister, a woman I'd never met. And Paris's brother, because something was wrong with him. And maybe all of Urial.

I looked to him with concern, reaching out to take his hand. "We'll go with you. Or... or I will. We can bring some people if you're worried we'll need to fight our way out."

His eyes went round, as though the thought of fighting had never occurred to him before in his entire life. He snuggled into me, looking very small and much younger than usual, squeezing his eyes shut and clinging to me. "I don't... I don't know. What do you think?"

I thought I was going to do everything in my power to make sure Paris and his family were safe, and when I told him so, he wiggled closer and rested his cheek against my chest. He relaxed in my arms, and I wasn't sure I'd ever felt more capable than I did knowing he was counting on me.

The next morning, when I went downstairs to grab breakfast and bring it back up to Paris, it felt like all my hopes had been answered, when I walked into the kitchen and found Killian standing next to Rosaline, watching her fry bacon with no small amount of interest.

He turned to me with an uncharacteristic grin. "Rumor has it the Hawk might need some aid, so I thought I'd come see what was causing such turmoil among my brethren."

I almost collapsed with relief.

Killian, less than a decade older than me, wasn't exactly a father figure, but perhaps... an older brother? An older brother you were sure could beat up any bully or bully's older brother, in the whole world. He'd taught me how to fight. Sat with me after I'd killed my first man and almost crumbled. Taken me drinking and told me how important it was, when one lived a life that included violence, to also include other, softer things.

He required every member of the Crane Clan to spend at least one year in five off the wall, no matter how much they wanted to spend their lives defending their people. Even if it was spent at the forge learning how to make weapons for fighting, every member of his clan was prepared to live a life that didn't center on violence. Everyone was encouraged to have feelings, and discuss them, and no one was ever mocked for not being suited to war.

This, apparently, was what happened when a nation's artisans were the ones trapped in a never-ending war.

It still wasn't good, but I didn't think that my own clan would have handled it nearly as well. We'd have made war into a production line, each person working every day, for their whole lives, until they couldn't anymore. We were a calm, patient people, but sometimes that didn't serve a cause as well as being passionate, but knowing and respecting one's limits.

If nothing else, it meant that Killian could leave his clan to the defense of the wall for a few weeks at a time, knowing they could handle things. Killian was part of a functional machine, like a loom. Maybe he was a crucial part, a shuttle or some such thing, but there were other shuttles he'd personally trained. Other people who were capable of performing his duties if he was unavailable. If nothing else, it was a sensible thing to do when he was likely to get injured sometimes, in the regular course of his duties.

I'd learned that lesson well from him: if one person was completely indispensable to the clan, unable to be replaced, then someday you'd be in quite a bad situation when you had to replace them.

I'd been silent too long, it seemed, because he was watching me with his head cocked to the side, one eyebrow raised. "Surely it can't be that bad, can it?"

"It's"—it took me a moment to even remember what he was actually asking about. The situation with the Eagle. "Clio's attempted murder of me. We think her father told her to do it, and he's since asked someone else to do it as well. She was shrieking about the eastern grazing lands when she tried to kill me, so we think it was on Memnon's orders, and since he's been stymied, he's going to be looking for other ways to take land."

Killian gave a snort. "I'll give the old bastard some land. He can have the wall if he likes."

Rosaline gave a little giggle, then slapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide and apologetic.

Killian, as was his way, winked at her and turned immediately back to the subject at hand. "Do you think he's going to attack your clan? I have people I can send to help."

"He's cleverer than that, I think. He's not a good man, but he's not unintelligent. I think he's looking for a way that doesn't leave him the obvious aggressor." I leaned against the wall, exhausted just thinking about it. I wasn't treacherous enough to keep up with that kind of thinking. We Hawk weren't... it wasn't that we weren't clever, but our minds were focused on things that weren't schemes to gain power. New, faster, better ways to spin thread? That was what we spent our brain power on.

For a moment, Killian considered me, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed. "So this is something else?"

Rosaline looked over, biting her lip. "You didn't come back down for food last night. Was Paris's letter from Urial something bad?"

I let out a gusty sigh and nodded. "It was from his sister. It was vague and frankly, disturbing. His brother is sick, and she said something is wrong in Urial. He wants to go back, but?—"

"But he's your partner, whether you've told him yet or not," Killian finished for me.

Rosaline's eyes went wide, and she turned to look at me. "You didn't... you didn't tell him what it means, that you were able to give him a bird?"

"I didn't just give him a bird," I hissed back, glancing behind me to make sure he wasn't there in the doorway, listening to me. "I almost killed him. Do you really think he wants to hear that the only reason the Avianitis took was because a man who almost killed him is in love with him?"

Killian, damn him, laughed. "Well then. Clearly I need to come along to Urial. We'll leave Orestes here to help defend your people, and I'll see to your safety in the dangerous foreign land." His eyes were twinkling with mischief, and part of me wanted to tell him to fuck off, but... well, there was no safer place in the entire world than in Killian's company.