The Grim (Ravens #3)

xxxviii. peace

For the first time since she could remember, Emma Gail Harlem awoke to a flood of white so bright she had to squint to keep her eyes open. The unfamiliar ceiling light pouring over her caused a splitting pain in her head, and she winced as she tried to push herself to a seated position.

Her whole body ached, but she could.

And with that realization, her eyes flew open and began to adjust more quickly as her heart picked up its pace. She could move. She lifted up her wrists and her breath got caught in her throat; her hands—though wrapped in gauze—were unbound, and her feet as well. Biting her tongue to ignore the pain, she kicked her legs off what she figured to be a hospital bed, bringing herself fully upright. Her feet did not touch the floor, but when she was left staring at the ground she saw it sparkled with the same cleanliness as the rest of the room.

There seemed to be no cords or tubes attached to her, save for a heart monitor clipped on her left index finger. Slowly, the girl removed it. She didn't remember leaving Monarchia, the last she recalled were the footsteps of strangers and the sharp prick of another needle being stabbed into her neck. Unclipping herself would at least bring answers. She would deal with the consequences later.

Sure enough, within less than a minute the door flew open and a swarm of doctors ran in. Not guards, not politicians, but doctors dressed in scrubs. They came to a halt when they saw her standing, and for a few moments they stood frozen in time.

"Where am I?" Emma asked, pressing her hands into the bed and tilting her head to the right to face them. Her voice was dry, raspy, and weak. It felt wrong, foreign. It was lost.

The doctors made eye contact for a few seconds before a blonde woman stepped forward. "You're in the Fortress, Emma," she said. "You made it."

The taut, threatening expression on the girl's face softened, and she sat up a little straighter, lifting her head. "Where's my brother?"

The woman smiled, her whole disposition kind and comforting, which immediately put Emma on edge. "He's here," she said softly. "In the lobby. We'll go get him."

She nodded, then looked back at her wrapped wrists. "How long have I been out?"

"Not long at all," cooed the doctor. "Only a few hours, really. We were concerned you might need to undergo surgery, but there doesn't seem to be any need for that. It seems you might have broken a couple of ribs, so we'll ask that you be careful for the next couple months to let them heal—"

"Emma!" Sebastian had arrived in the room's doorway, and the woman stepped aside as he ran to his sister. He at first embraced her in his arms, but she winced under the pressure, so he let go, taking a seat beside her with one arm draped over her shoulder. Under the warmth of her brother, she realized her whole body was freezing.

"I didn't think this far ahead," she whispered, leading her head against his stable shoulder, and with his free hand he stroked her knotted black hair, still caked in blood. "I thought they would kill me."

"I had my bets on you," he smiled, simply relishing in the moment how their breaths rose and fell at the very same pace, and savoring the miracle that they both breathed at all.

Emma smirked, "I'd be pissed if any of you weren't betting on me."

Sebastian snickered lightheartedly, but hearing his sister's voice, her wit alone, was enough to melt his heart and press away the loving tears he didn't realize he was still holding. "I was so scared, Em," he said. "I love you so much."

"Hey," she said, wiping the few teardrops away with her right hand. "I did it. I pulled through. You don't have to worry about me."

"You're eighteen," he muttered. "Eighteen and tearing down dictatorships like it's nothing. I sure as hell have reason to worry about you."

Suddenly, she whipped her head towards him, her body going rigid as every last detail came back to her. As the floodgates holding all the memories back shattered. "Seb," she whispered. "Did it work?"

He smiled, his eyes radiating with what could only described as pride and admiration. "Yes, Emma," he said. "Yes, it worked. Hunter and Sonja were arrested, the Union is taking over the city until a new leader is elected. The ring is gone. You're a hero, Em. You're a goddamn hero."

She bit her lip, trying to hide the smile that inevitably rose when she heard the news. All the pain, all the sacrifice, had been worth it, for the ring was gone, and they were freed. But she couldn't smile, not now, not with one last question looming over her. "And Ezra?"

"He lived," Sebastian said, and watched as her eyes widened and the first tears seemed to emerge. "The servants helped slow the bleeding until the Fortress could get there. He's lost a lot of blood, but he's in surgery now. Nothing's guaranteed, but he could still make it. He could still be alright."

"But he's here?"

"Yes," he assured her. "Everyone we care about is here, Em. Even Rachel. Damn, she's the one that found you. Everyone is safe now. The fight is over."

She should have been smiling, but Emma could only look away. "I don't even know what I am without fighting."

"That's alright," Sebastian promised. "You have time to figure it out."

------

The doctors saw no purpose in keeping Emma in the hospital overnight, for her vitals were steady and Sebastian's apartment was not far at all. He helped her walk, supporting her weight and moving slowly so that the pain was not too unbearable; she was offered a wheelchair, but she blatantly refused.

When they made it back to the apartment, an unsurprising crowd was waiting for them. While Donny had not invited the entire Wild Crew to greet their long-lost warrior at her return, he had insisted that Skylar and Levi be present. As a permanent living situation was yet to be established, Mai was to spend the night with the three roommates, as was Rachel, who had at least become familiar with Donny.

Emma had just about forgotten how to act in such informal settings. As happy as the others were to see her standing, she simply felt sick. She had spent so long looking at a sky filled some impending doom, a sky filled with blood and tears. How could one even walk when the sky was blue and not red? How could one even breathe?

"We can celebrate another time," Donny had said, acknowledging her confused plight, for he did not understand how it felt to sleep under the blood-red stars. He could never understand, for in his own time in the woods, he only ever saw them as lights.

They spent the evening in the apartment's small living room. Without enough space on the seats for all eight, most found themselves sipping beers or cola on the floor, as the two siblings were given priority on the couch. They did not discuss the elephant in the room, as they all knew normalcy was what Emma would most appreciate. But the conversation seemed too far-off and distant for her to pay any attention at all.

"Can I say I'm proud of you now?" Sebastian whispered, just quietly enough that only she could hear.

"I love you, Seb." She hadn't planned to say the words aloud, but the room was warm and the night sky a dark blue and through the window she could see hundreds of splendid stars and in the distance she could hear the others laughing and she'd noticed that the knife wasn't even hidden in her shoe as her brother helped to walk her home. "I know I don't say it, but—"

"I know." He wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, smiling subtly as he realized his sister had put on one of his t-shirts after she'd showered. Her hair was still wet and dripping onto him, but he didn't mind. For years now, she had been his life-raft keeping him afloat, and though neither might ever admit it, he had been hers.

But now she had found land, and with her head on his shoulder, she fell asleep. The powder keg set off so many years before—the minefield that held her hostage ever since she left the Grove and the memories felt like a whole lifetime before—had lost its power.

And on that evening, for the first time, there was peace.