Page 69 of Winds of Ruin
I glanced over my shoulder. Emmerick inhaled a deep breath but stayed otherwise motionless.
It wouldn’t work…Could it work?
Before I could overthink it, I crossed the room, raised the smooth stone to my lips, and kissed it. Placing one palm on the pillow beside Emmerick’s head, I leaned over him. A tear dropped onto the chest of his freshly pressed blue tunic.
My arm shook as I lowered myself to kiss him. His breath tickled my nose, and though the warmth of his lips against mine was welcoming, I didn’t linger there. Straightening, I watched him, waiting.
Once again, he did not stir.
Not even a flinch.
Heaving out a frustrated groan for my foolish dreams, I let my head fall to his shoulder.
“I knew it wasn’t me, but it was worth trying,” I rasped out.
No good would come of staying and weeping.
“Goodbye, puppy,” I whispered.
From the doorway, I blew another kiss, this time letting the wind carry it to his temple.
Chapter 30
Elsedora
Lark arrived first, having snuck out of Umber House. I sent a hawk so that Krait and Sybilla wouldn’t worry about her when they woke in the morning.
Cassidee and Wyeth arrived next.
Then Asterie.
To my surprise, Amara showed up at my door, too.
Lark’s tongue certainly wagged fast.
Sybilla had been oblivious to the origin of my distress—though my dear friend likely didn’t expect my affections to land so close to her past.
But her meddlesome kid? She had a way of seeing right through me. Lark ensured my home bustled with activity that evening.
My heart sank. Angie would be here in an instant if she could. Guilt stirred for not having visited her since her infection had spread.
It terrified me to see her so ill. I made excuses about not wanting to get in Leo’s hair, but it was a lousy way to avoid my fear.
My unexpected guests seemed to know more than they were supposed to, all saying they simply heard I might need some company tonight. The corks kept popping from bottles, and the kitchen prepared trays of fresh bread and cheese, though my appetite wouldn’t let me partake.
We sat in the sitting room and made small talk about the frigid weather, about plans for spring. The voices blurred, no topic catching my interest or bringing me out of my head.
With the fire roaring and casting shadows on a room full of faux-cheerful faces, Asterie cleared her throat. “Well, if no one else will mention it. Elsedora, we know about the waking stone,” she said. “Sybilla told us.”
“It was my idea to invite ourselves over,” Lark chimed in. “I’m sorry, Aunt El. I really thought it would work.”
Cass poured more wine into my glass, casting Wyeth a knowing gaze. They had a way of speaking to one another without words that I envied.
I shrugged. “We are no closer to waking him. Nor have we found the third relic. It is what it is. I only hoped for Angie to see him. I thought it would brighten her spirits.”
Lark stared at me through my lie, far too puppy-dog eyed.
“I appreciate you trying.” Amara’s hushed thanks carried across the fire-lit room as a charmed wine bottle filled her glass.
