downstairs and out onto the sweeping front lawn.
It’s a gorgeous day, at odds with the gray storm of worry and resentment churning inside me. The sky is an almost shocking August blue, and underneath it the mountains gleam like carved emeralds. A slight cool breeze stirs the pines, and the gardens spill over with exuberant bushes and flowers and trees, the last hurrah of summer before fall sets in. Delegates, in between meetings, stroll through the gardens, chatting and laughing. But then, I hear something odd. I hear the sound of an engine and tires crunching over gravel.
I look up. An old tan Toyota Corolla is trundling up the drive, slow and cautious around the bends. I freeze. We aren’t expecting any guests. No one should be coming this way.
Brekken is tense beside me, his hand hovering near his waist. Together, we watch the car get closer and closer. When it’s close enough to see the faces of the two people inside, shock jolts through me, tearing a gasp from my lips.
It’s Taya.
And in the passenger seat … Nahteran.
My body goes on autopilot, carrying me down the slope toward them. The small part of my brain that isn’t frozen by shock knows our new arrivals shouldn’t be seen by the delegates in the garden. I walk down the middle of the road toward Mirror Lake. I don’t know where Brekken went. Maybe to get Marcus, or distract the delegates. I know he said something to me before I started down this hill, but I can’t remember what. My ears are ringing.
Taya sees me and stops. We’re still, frozen halfway between Mirror Lake and Havenfall. Through the dirty windshield, I can see that her eyes are wide, her hands rigid on the wheel. She puts the car in park, right there in the middle of the road, and gets out, leaving the door open behind her.
She’s cut her hair. It falls loose around her shoulders now, not long and braided the way she always wore it before. She’s wearing a strange top, made out of one looping piece of cream-colored fabric, like something out of Star Wars, and skinny jeans and the same Docs she always had. She looks good, healthy. Her eyes are bright and the color is high in her cheeks. I take in all these details at once, trying to wrap my mind around how this can be possible. How she can be here. Here at Havenfall. Here on Earth.
She runs toward me and throws her arms around me.
I can’t move. I can’t make myself move. But I feel. I feel everything, a library of sensations compressed into a single instant. I feel her weight against me and the warmth of her, her hair brushing my cheek. Her smell is a mix of both the lavender shampoo that I remember and something else, something other, a spicy, flowery scent that I can’t place but I think maybe I’ve caught before in the tunnels around the doorways. I’ve spent so long shoving away every thought of her, every memory, every wish, and in the space of thirty seconds she’s cracked it all open.
Taya.
But the sound of the car door opening and shutting again makes my spine stiffen. We’re not alone out here. I extricate myself from Taya and step back, looking at her open face and huge eyes once more before turning to the sound. To Nahteran, walking toward us.
In contrast to Taya, he looks nervous, uncertain. He wears jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and his steps toward me are slow, measured. It’s so quiet that even though he’s yards away, I hear it when he takes a deep breath.
“Maddie—”
“Stop.”
The command issues from behind me, up the slope toward the inn. It’s cold and deadly; Brekken’s voice.
I turn around. My heart is pounding so hard it hurts, like a tetherball being slammed around by so many different emotions: joy, fear, fury. I squint against the late morning sun. Brekken is standing a few yards up, his sword out and gleaming.
Behind him, Marcus and Sal have somehow already caught wind of what’s happening and come out onto the drive. They rush down the hill to catch up.
I finally manage to find my voice again. “What are you doing here?” I croak. I’m not sure who I’m talking to—maybe everyone—but Taya is the only one close enough to hear me, only an arm’s length away still.
She stares at me, blinking. “Terran—Nahteran—he …”
“I’m sorry.” Nahteran’s voice takes over when Taya’s fades out.