"Oh, Aaden, how beautiful Elya was when she rescued you. So fierce and full of love for you. You wanted to fly with her, didn't you? Well, you did. She loved you so much, she swept in and lifted you into the air and carried you away from all that evil. See, I told you that she thought you a special boy. There's the proof!"
And then she did something she had not planned to. She paused a moment, until she was sure she wanted him to hear this news. Perhaps it would give joy to his sleeping mind, be a comfort to him until he awoke. She began, "I have something to tell you about Elya…"
On her return to her quarters, she found Melio waiting for her. He stood on the balcony, leaning out to take in the view of the harbor. He had set a glass carafe of lemon liqueur on the stone balustrade, two glasses beside it, one of which was half full. "Any change?" he asked, his eyes soft on her as she approached.
"No. He sleeps on."
"Perhaps it's better that way. I've hardly managed to sleep since battling the Numrek. Too much to worry about."
Mena watched him pour for her and then took the glass he offered. "You've slept more than you're aware," she said wryly. "Either that or you've perfected your imitation of a drunken man snoring."
"Be nice," he said, looking affronted. He reached to muss her hair, but she cocked her head just sharply enough to indicate that she was not really in a playful mood. Melio took the hint. He set both elbows on the weathered stone and scanned the sea. "It's been busy. The harbor. More boats in and out than I've ever seen. The harbor patrol has been keeping them anchored far out, controlling the flow." He glanced at her, inviting a response.
"Hmm," Mena said. She looked at him as well, though she was still thinking about Aaden.
"Mena, Corinn gave me orders today. I can tell you haven't heard."
"What orders?"
"She's sending the Elite to support General Andeson in Teh. I'll have to go meet with his officers shortly. They have the coastline blockaded, but it's the Teheen Hills they're really worried about. If the Numrek get there, they'll be hard to track. They could stay alive for months, us spending our resources chasing them while the Auldek start out on their march-if that's truly going to happen."
"Is it?" Mena hated the question, but she had to ask it. She had heard so much talk the last few days, so many rumors, but it was still hard to believe that a people so far away were somehow a threat to them.
"The queen seems to think so. That's what the league reports, and they were the ones who brought the news. Hard to refute them right now. They're adamant that it's happening, and that the Auldek have no interest in negotiating. That's what they were doing when everything went mad."
Melio finished the sentence hesitantly, reacting to the way Mena cut her eyes down from his face. He knew her well, and because of it, she knew that he understood her to have thought of Dariel. Dariel had been at that attempt at negotiation. Whatever went wrong happened to him, before his eyes, perhaps to his body.
Drumming his fingertips on the stone balustrade, Melio resumed. "Anyway, it's a sound plan. About Teh, I mean. The Numrek are here already. They are our enemy again. There's really nothing but for us to destroy them. The Elite should be a part of it. As their captain I-"
"She's punishing me for not taking better care of Aaden," Mena said.
"No, she's not. Don't say that. You know your sister," he began, but then waved that away and began again. "You know how she functions. She is wrapped up in details. Those come first. I doubt very much, Mena, that she thinks any ill of you. She's just not one to remember small things like feelings."
For the first time, she sipped the lemon liqueur. Sipped it once, and then tilted it back and poured the entire drink down her throat. Wiping her mouth with her hand, she spoke as if she had not heard Melio at all. "She thinks I allowed Aaden to be stabbed. And she's right. I did. I watched it happen."
"Stop, Mena!" He set his glass down and turned her to face him, with a hand at her shoulder that then slid up to cradle her head and neck. "I'm only going to say this one more time. Nobody blames you. Not even Corinn. She may think she does. She may even act on it, but in truth she blames herself. It's she who made the Numrek her personal guards. It's she who put her son's safety in the hands of brute enemies. Tell me you didn't always know that it was wrong to think them our allies. They ate human flesh! What was she thinking, trusting them? She was thinking about how much she liked it that her guards put the fear of death in everyone else. She liked it that she was different and didn't have to call on anybody, even her family, for protection. Don't pull away. You know what I say is true. She knows it as well. But you, Mena, kept Aaden alive. Corinn knows that, too. Don't expect her to thank you for it anytime soon, but she knows it deep down."
Melio drew his hand away from her neck but only so that he could use both his hands to grasp hers. "Now, there's something else we should talk about."
"No." She knew exactly what it was. She knew because she had been thinking about it, too. He had been patient, and she had known that in the joyful times after he had arrived back on the island and Elya was working her magic, he had been on the verge of opening the topic again. If he had asked a few days ago, she would have agreed. Things were different now.
"Let us make a child," he said. "Stop using that root powder and let's be parents to a new generation."
"Not now. Look at what's-"
"Yes, now! We've waited long enough. Do you really want to let me leave to face the Numrek without even trying? What if I don't come back? Will you wash your hands of my memory?" Mena started to object, but he spoke over her. "Why shouldn't I think that? You already do it. I hate the way you wash me out of you! Like there's something wrong with me. Like you don't want any remnants of me inside you. Every time we make love, you kill that part of me that wants to make life with you."
He dropped her hands, a gesture of disgust to match what he was accusing her of. His face-so perfect when he smiled-became a mask of creases, disdain, frustration. It was horrible to see. As he backed away, Mena stepped toward him. "You just told me not to say foolish things. You don't either. I always want you inside me. Always. You are here already. Right here, in my center." She showed the spot by making a blade of her hand stabbing it in her chest.
"Don't tell me the world is going mad again," Melio said. He did not hide the spite in his voice, a twisted sort of malice that coiled with vulnerability and love-hard to separate one from the other. "You always have a reason. You wanted to wait until Aaden was older, to make sure he lived and was healthy. Nice of you not to compete with your sister. But he did live. He's healthy and he'll wake up soon, better than ever. He's the heir. She can't possibly worry about your having children. Just tell her that. Then, it was that you couldn't be with child and fight the foulthings. Fine. That's done. And now you're going to say that the world is in chaos again. Too dangerous, right? Not right now. Afterward. Excuses, excuses, Mena!"
He said that harshly, then seemed to regret his tone. More softly, he said, "There always needs to be a new generation, no matter the circumstances of the moment. We can never know what the future holds. But I know what's true right now. Right now I love you and you love me. That love is a gift from the Giver, and you should thank him for it by making something of it."
"No," Mena said, but then hated the word and knew it was what she meant. It was she who drew closer to Melio now, one arm pulling his torso against hers, her other hand wrapping around the back of his head and pinching his hair between her fingers. "Not now, but after whatever is coming-with the Auldek, I mean-is over we can try."