Chapter 103 Real Sky and Factions
ARYA
Seeing the attentive look in her eyes, I continued. “And then I remember, and I feel stupid for forgetting. And then I look at Luca and I think about how close we came to never getting out, and I can’t breathe for a second.” A huff of breath slipped past my lips.
“That’s not stupid. That’s trauma.” Sage’s voice was gentle.
“I don’t have time for trauma.”
“That’s right, trauma doesn’t care about your schedule.” Sage ate a piece of cheese with complete calm. “I’ve fought in six wars. Survived four assassination attempts. Once spent eleven days in a collapsed tunnel waiting for rescue.” She glanced at me. “It catches up with you. Always. The only question is whether you’re standing somewhere safe when it does.”
“And if I’m not?”
“Then you deal with it anyway and it’s messier.” She shrugged. “You don’t have a choice about when it hits. You only have a choice about whether you’re honest with yourself when it does.”
I thought about the nightmares. About the way certain silences made my skin crawl because they reminded me of the absolute absence in the void. About the moment three days ago when Luca had touched my shoulder from behind without warning and I’d spun around with power already flooding my hands, ready to fight something that wasn’t there.
He’d looked at me with those golden eyes and said nothing. Just waited until my breathing evened out and then pulled me close without a word.
“I’m not okay,” I said. “But I’m going to be.”
“Good enough.” Sage handed me a piece of fruit. “Now eat the rest of this and tell me what we’re actually going to do about the elections, because Ryker thinks we should let them proceed and I think that’s insane.”
“Ryker’s right.”
“I know he’s right. I just wanted to hear you say it so I can tell him I agree with you rather than him.” She smiled. “It’s a relationship thing.”
I didn’t know when a laugh burst out of me.
It felt like something cracking open. Not exactly painful. More like a window being forced after too long painted shut.
“The elections are happening,” I said. “And Ferris Calder is going to run. And probably a dozen others. And some of them are going to say things about us that aren’t true, and the people are going to have to decide what they believe.”
“And if they decide wrong?”
“Then they decide wrong. And we respect it. And we work within whatever structure they create.” I looked at her. “Because the alternative is becoming exactly what Theron accused us of being.”
Sage was quiet for a moment. “You know what I think?”
“Tell me.”
“I think you’re going to win. Not because you’re powerful, although you are. Not because Luca is terrifying, although he definitely is.” She met my eyes. “Because people can tell the difference between someone who wants power and someone who’s genuinely trying to do right by them. It’s not a complicated feeling. It’s just usually pretty rare.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. So I ate my bread and looked at the real sky and let the words settle somewhere they could do some good.
\-----
LUCA
The moment Arya slipped out of the chamber I felt it through the bond. Not distress exactly. More like a quiet dimming, the way a fire banks when you stop feeding it.
I wanted to follow her immediately.
I stayed where I was.
It was possibly the hardest thing I’d done since climbing into the void after her, and that was saying something considerable.
“The election timeline,” Caspian said at my elbow, his voice low and professionally calm. “Bardon recommends six weeks. Long enough for candidates to declare and campaign. Short enough that the uncertainty doesn’t destabilize the council’s day-to-day function.”
“Six weeks,” I repeated. I was watching Ferris Calder across the room. The young Alpha was holding court with four other representatives, his hands moving expressively, his expression carrying that particular shine of someone who believed completely in his own rightness.
I remembered being that certain about things. It was a long time ago.
“He’s going to make it about the Moonborne bloodline,” I said.
Caspian followed my gaze. “Probably.”
“He’s going to argue that a unified council shouldn’t be led by someone with a direct ancestral claim to everything being unified. That it’s a conflict of interest.”
“Also probably.”
“He’s not entirely wrong.”
Caspian turned to look at me. “That’s not what I expected you to say.”
“I’ve been alive for eight hundred years. I’ve watched enough leaders convince themselves their power was justified that I know what it looks like from the inside.” I finally looked away from Calder. “Arya’s been running this council for three weeks and already three different factions are trying to use her to consolidate their own positions. We should have seen that coming.”
“We did see it coming.”
“We should have done more about it.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know. That’s what bothers me.” I rolled my shoulders. The void had left its mark on me too, though I was less willing to examine that in public.
My immortality was back, yes. But something about the experience of being mortal, even briefly, had changed how immortality felt. Less like a baseline state. More like something I was aware of carrying. Something I could lose. And something I wanted to protect.
That was dangerous.
“How many declared candidates do we have?”
“Four officially. Calder, plus three others who filed papers this morning.” Caspian pulled up his tablet. “Lord Drayven is strongly hinting he’ll run.”
“Drayven.” That surprised me. “He’s been a supporter.”
“He’s been a pragmatist. He sees which way things are moving and he wants to be positioned correctly.” Caspian’s tone held no judgment. Just observation. “He’s not disloyal. He’s just very old and very careful.”
“Qualities I can respect.”
“I thought you might.” He paused. “And Ryker has been approached by two different factions asking if he’d consider running.”