*COMPLETE* "People don't believe in us anymore. They don't believe that in the end we will do what is right. We can't let them down. We can't let Ben win."
Decisions made on top of the lonely, wind-swept cliff of Lethinor reverberate around the five...
Had they not been in the presence of company, Hiran would have howled when she told him the news. Instead, he takes it with a stony frown, his hazel eyes flashing with the promise of retribution before he turns dolefully toward his pack.
Though the prisoners have been captured and secured, energy laces around the seven like live wire, creating stiff backs and restless feet. Heads turn at the snap of branches, and people look out into the darkness, suspecting, waiting. Caj patches up Fae's bloodied arm and the burns on Finn's feet while Tara and Lei guard the three figures. It was agreed after Iaves' last stunt to blindfold him. He can't Skill what he can't see.
They did not blindfold Ben though, and she has the wild impulse to tell them to do so. When they traveled together his mind was a marvel; now it is a dangerous, unpredictable thing.
The faster they can get him back and behind bars, the better.
Allayria helps Finn and Tara saddle the horses, pulling her, Fae, and Tara's packs off and to the side. They'll go on foot to Solveigard City, and hopefully borrow some steeds from Fae's family for the ride back.
When they turn to help the others, Allayria places a hand on Finn's arm and holds him back.
"You're staying with Lei," she tells him, leaning down to peer into his face. "If any of those three try to escape, you know what to do."
He nods, eyes wide.
Looking at the still childish curve of his cheeks, the ruffled, boyish flair of his hair, Allayria sets her hands on his shoulders and her voice drops to a low whisper:
"Don't listen to Ben."
His brows twitch up and then stitch together, but he needs to understand.
"Remember what you said about thorn lilies? How beautiful they are, and how poisonous they can be?" she asks, fingers digging into the delicate swoop of his shoulder blades. "Ben is a thorn lily, Finn. Don't listen to him."
He looks at her, gaze lingering on the crusted wound on her forehead, the dried blood down the side of her face.
"I know," he says. "And Caj does too. You don't need to talk to him."
He must scry the surprise from her expression for he adds, with the touch of child-like innocence that has somehow endured: "You're our friend; he hurt you."
Allayria's eyes suddenly sting and she straightens up, looking away.
"I've got confidence in you, kiddo," she says, quickly ruffling his hair before stepping back. "One hit from your butterfly allies and they'll be out for the count."
"Butterflies are more observers than fighters," Finn says seriously, and a slightly manic grin cracks on her face.
Lei is overseeing the prisoner transfer from ground to horse when they walk back; they've got Meg, still unconscious, draped across the back of Tara's steed and are securing her with rope. Fae is over with the three women's bags, rearranging and counting out supplies for their trip.
Allayria stands there for a moment, watching it all, and she hears him for the second time:
"Allayria."
He's just to her right, feet and hands still trapped in rock, and she looks at him.
He apparently has nothing after that, and they stare at each other in silence. He's just as she remembers him, ruffled brown hair and sharp keen eyes, and he seems unable to look away from her, his expression twisted into such a look of disbelief that he must think her a ghost, or some figment of his imagination.
It's not the way you had planned things to turn out, is it? she muses, expression cold and flat. This isn't the way you knew it would be. Turns out I'm not so easy to kill, am I, Ben? All your great, glorified plans didn't account for this.
She wants to say something witty and biting, like acid pouring on a wound, but everything she comes up with sounds weak.
You ruined it. You ruined everything, she thinks unwillingly, the words hitting too close, sinking too deep into the careful walls she tried to build back up. The corner of her eyes prick and she fights back the urge to blink it away.
In the end, she wastes no words—she drifts, like the silent phantom he thinks her to be, out to the lonely road and into the dark expanse of twilight.
You ruined me.
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A/N: The Pang-Sing bow is back, both in-text and as header art this chapter, following a terse interaction between Allayria and Ben.
Hi all! I know I said two chapters for this week's upload, but as you have noticed, the first was more an intro than an actual chapter and I felt like adding this (fairly short) chapter was more emotionally satisfying.
To break my usual stoic plot silence, I'll just say that, as you might imagine, this is not the last Allayria will be seeing of the Cabal, particularly its de facto leader. Ahem.
Alright, the vault of secrets is closed again. Onto the usual programming.
