Home to the Gathering Storm

Unforgiven

Every moment since the battle had been dedicated to finding Aelin, and Rowan was single-minded in his quest. Even as he would converse easily with Gavriel about the plans they had for dinner on a given evening, he seemed detached. He was firmly present and yet he was miles away. It was as if he was listening with something much more attuned than his fae ears. He slept lightly, waking some nights with an intent look on his face, always listening, and sometimes hearing.

It was that look that he now wore, and Elide was content to observe from the shadows. Only when the look had passed, and his face had returned to its usual crestfallen expression that Elide dared to speak.

"It's the bond, isn't it," she said.

At first, Rowan only nodded, but after a moment he spoke quietly.

"It's hard to detect, but yes. Sometimes something on the other end stirs. All I can do is listen."

Elide gulped. "I-I'm so sorry," she said, voice much quieter than it had been moments ago.

Rowan raised his head and made eye contact.

"Don't be sorry. Every time I feel something on the other end, I know Aelin's alive. That bond gives me hope," Rowan said before taking the few steps to the deck rail and turning his focus out to sea.

Elide felt inclined to join him, so she crossed from the cabin door to the rail, ignoring her ankle's twinges of protest.

"You know, she didn't like me, when we were children," Elide said conversationally, resting her elbows on the smooth wood of the rail.

She noted Rowan's slight shift and knew she'd gotten his attention.

Rowan didn't seem to fully believe her. "Really? I thought you two were-"

"No," Elide cut in. "She and Aedion thought I was too delicate and fragile...but something told me that we were just children being children. Before Terrasen fell, I liked to think of them as my future friends. As it would happen, the voice was truthful...almost," Elide said, smiling sadly.

"That something inside your head wouldn't happen to be a goddess, would it?" Rowan asked in a tone that Elide couldn't quite read. She recognized the conversation change, floating away from Aelin's past.

"Yes," she said, giving the truth without hesitation. "How did you know?"

A small smile crossed Rowan's face. "It made sense. Aelin, Aedion, Lysandra, Manon, and Lorcan all found favor with gods at a young age. My only question is, which one's been whispering in your ear?" he asked.

Elide hesitated.

"I've had that same question for years. I've never been able to understand why she chose a small cripple over...well, anyone else," she said, competently dodging Rowan's question.

"A wrathful goddess, then?" Rowan asked, and there was that far off look in his eyes again. "From what I've heard," he went on, slowly, as if half his mind were fixed on a point far off in the distance, "you can kill an ilken with that leg, a broken nose, a sprained wrist, and without any magic at all. In Doranelle, one of the hardest lessons I ever had to teach new warriors was using their minds when their magic and even their bodies failed them. Take it from me, cleverness is not something easily taught, espec-" he stopped abruptly.

Elide was paying attention to every word he spoke. She hadn't heard him talk this much at one time since before the battle, and she wanted to know just how Rowan knew so many details of her battle with the ilken.

"Is something wrong?" Elide asked. What if the mating bond had tugged again?

"No. But it's Anneith, isn't it. Goddess of painful deaths... and of cleverness," said Rowan. He wasn't asking. Elide could see him putting two and two together, and just as she was about to change the topic of conversation, Rowan put the only two things together that Elide desperately needed kept apart.