Seemingly Needless Allies

Chapter 9

Once they had walked nearly every square inch of the island for what felt like hours, they finally retreated further into the industrial area-- presumably to find a place to spend the night. Despite the many hours that had seemingly passed, the sun was still high in the sky. Granted, it was significantly lower, but it didn't look like it wanted to set. Sophie assumed that it must have been in the middle of summer; maybe even the summer solstice, or longest day of the year.

Finally, they approached a gargantuan building, right in the centre of the crowds, and other buildings. The building seemed to stretch to the sky with ivory lined walls, looming terraces, and strings of bright lights from the top to bottom. They followed Thalia on the red carpet, and into what Sophie assumed was the main lobby.

As they approached, Thalia turned suddenly. "You can wait outside. She already knows you're here. She had a room all set up, and--"

"I'm fine," Bronte said coldly.

Grady shot him a confused glance. "What was that about?"

"Yeah. What's wrong, Bronte?" Keefe asked, the line between mocking and genuine concern painfully vague.

Bronte didn't answer but instead trudged ahead of Thalia, making his way towards the bar in the corner.

Sophie saw what figure caught his eye. A woman sitting at the far end of the bar. She was wearing a white blouse over her creamy skin that looked as though it was permanently the perfect suntan.

Thalia led Dex and Grady to their rooms, while Sophie used the restroom, patiently waiting for Bronte to reunite with his former colleague. 

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"Bronte," she said in a quiet acknowledgement, as he approached the bar stool.

"Altera Endellion, "Bronte said, pulling up a seat next to her. It was then, when she finally turned to face him that he saw her face, and all of the memories started pouring back. Her soft features, kind smile, and gorgeous gr--.

"What happened to your eyes?!" Bronte screamed in horror.

Altera gave a quiet laugh. "I had them changed when I left the Lost cities."

"How?" Bronte now looked with a mild curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

"You really don't want to know," she responded calmly.

He didn't look convinced.

"So... How do you like it here?" She asked, eager to change the subject.

"The weather is atrocious; I was approached by several merchers selling me blatant scams, and I have twelve bug bites... and counting." The words just slipped out. They were slippery and fluid, so eager to come out.

Altera smiled brightly, lighting up her face. "You never did well in the Forbidden Cities."

"Can you blame me?" Bronte smiled, subtle amusement playing across his features.

"No... no. I guess the weather isn't great." Her smile was warm and pleasantly inviting.

Bronte's face darkened. "You left me," he said, after seemingly finally realizing it for himself.

"Bronte-"

"I don't want to hear your apology. That's not why I'm here."

"Then why are you here?" She placed her hand on her shoulder, question in her eyes. He stared back, his face confused, and hurt. Their lips were so close-- so close to finally meeting. Bronte turned away, ashamed.

"Bronte, we're going to be on this island for a while together. Please, just let me explain." She pleaded.

"Why did you leave?" Bronte finally asked, turning back to face the love of his (long) life.

"I had no choice," she said earnestly. "The government was after me, and you were against me. I had nothing there. But here-- here I have everything."

"You don't have me."

"Don't overestimate your self-worth," she said jokingly.

He didn't laugh.

"Look, Bronte--"

"You could have come to me. You know, contrary to popular belief, I never stopped loving you. I would always be there for you," Bronte said, his voice thick with emotion.