AND SHE WAS NOT AN ADVENTURE I FLYNN CARSEN

The Upstarts

The Upstarts

"Hartley!" Flynn called, striding across the grass to where Clara stood on the edge of the riverbank, her face thoughtful.

"Flynn," she said, inclining her head, the gesture jarringly royal, making Flynn falter. He had buried Excalibur, saying a final farewell to his best friend, struggling to find the strength to let go of all that he had left. Despite the Annex, the Library was gone from him, along with Charlene and Judson, and he couldn't keep Clara by his side, even as he wanted to.

"How are you?" he asked, ramming his hands into his blazer pockets.

"I'll live," Clara said distantly, looking out at the river. Then she turned to face him, her brow furrowing. "What really happened back there, Flynn?" she asked him suddenly, her dark eyes questioning.

"Just what I told you," Flynn lied, not missing a beat. "Nothing else, nothing more. The magic returned to the earth. Lamia lost and we won."

Clara studied him for a moment, her brown hair billowing slightly in the faint breeze, making Flynn's breath catch in his throat. He barely knew her, yet it felt like he had always known her, a contradiction he still couldn't get his head around. But there had always been a chasm between him and Clara, a crevasse of their own creation, one he just couldn't cross.

"I came to say good-bye," he said, cutting straight to the point.

Clara smoothed down the folds of her red dress, suddenly finding it hard to face him. "Well, I guess this is it, then," she said lightly, shielding her eyes against the glare of the sun with the back of her hand.

"I suppose it is," Flynn said just as lightly.

They looked at each other for a long moment, before Flynn turned his head away, Clara looking out across the river instead, her heart in turmoil. She didn't love Flynn, but sometimes she hated him with an odium she didn't quite understand, dividing them even as it drew them together.

"I'm sorry about Cal," she said quietly, making Flynn glance up at her.

"So am I," Flynn said, suddenly pretending to become very absorbed in straightening his cravat.

Clara bit her lip, remembering the sword with a soul of its own, the memory suddenly filling her heart with venom, startling her. Then it was gone, leaving a lingering bitterness that made Clara take a step back.

Flynn glanced at her again, his brow furrowing. "You okay?" he asked, taking a step forwards.

"I'm fine," Clara snapped, "I'm not going to pop my clogs at the slightest provocation, you know."

Flynn just exhaled sharply, before rumpling up his dark hair with an agitated hand. "Well, I guess this is it, then," he said, echoing her earlier words.

"That's what I said," Clara said, rolling her eyes.

Flynn just grinned brokenly, before turning and leaving.

"Wait," Clara called, her voice cracking, making Flynn stop and turn around.

"What is it?" he asked, his own voice suddenly very strained.

"What about Eve?" Clara burst out, blushing hotly.

"What about her?"

"She - she likes you," Clara said, sounding like the words were being wrenched from her.

"But she isn't you, is she?" Flynn said simply, and before Clara could blink, he was gone.

~*~