Luminous

106 - Farewells and Summons

Lord Crosset's change of mind scrambled their priorities. Meya was unshackled, the gold on her head shifted to Jerald. As Hyacinth's spy unit, the Spiders, combed their webs of hearsay for whispers of Crosset's long-lost heir, Hadrian and Jaise exploited Lady Hyacinth's frustrations to ease their escape.

Baron Hadrian promised Amoriah a share of Jaise's upcoming harvest, her Great Hall restored to every last spider spinning their web in the shadows, and a proper cremation for victims of the riot. In exchange, he asked for means, supplies and safe passage home. Delighted, Amoriah provided.

Jerald posed as one of Winterwen's Greeneye curators, hidden in plain sight under his glass mask and black cloak. The curator whose place he took trusted his eyes to his colleagues and laid himself among the mindless, eyeless patients.

Once safe across the drawbridge, away from the eyes and ears in the Hyacinth wall, the voyagers gathered on the sand plains beyond the eternal fire, catching breath and parting words with those who would remain.

Lady Jaise, Baron and Baroness Hadrian weaved through the crowd, eyes sweeping hawklike over the bustle. For once, Coris joined Zier and Christopher in physical labor, lugging eyeless Greeneyes onto wagons alongside Gillian and the dragons. Ahmundi had introduced Amara to Dizadh. The little girl was playing with her father's ankle-length hair. And the fellowship of Greeneyes were saying their farewells.

"Tell my mother I'll be home soon," said Cleygar heavily as he shook Lors' hand, tears in his pleading eyes, "Just have to see this to the end."

Old Lors cracked a rare smile as he slapped Cleygar's shoulder, beaming with pride,

"I'll be sure to, lad." He grunted softly, then received Dorsea's hug.

"Send my love to Claudie," She squeaked through her sniffles.

"And be good to her this time 'round, old man. You hear me?" Tissa added sharply, hands on her hips. Lors scowled as he parted with Dorsea, his cheeks blushing,

"I dun need to hear you, lass. Why d'you think I'm going home?"

He turned his scowl to Meya, calling all eyes to her. Blinking, Meya followed their insinuating looks to her middle, then her face flushed Hadrian Red amid Dorsea and Tissa's giggles.

"What, now I'm a cautionary tale in Hadrian, too?" She scowled back in kind. Frenix tilted his head, his eyes suspiciously round and large,

"If it's not enough, Atmund can spread the word in Jaise, and I'll do my part in Pearlwater."

Before Meya could do more than raise her foot to stamp a seal of approval on Frenix's smart arse, Lady Jaise approached with Atmund and Sir Jerald, now restored to his normal appearance.

Meya lowered her foot and fell to her knees. Around her, the other Greeneyes followed suit.

"Milady, we owe you our lives."

Winterwen caught her before her forehead touched the earth. As Meya reluctantly rose, the Lady waggled her hand at the others, urging them back to their feet.

"It is my duty, and my honor." She dipped her bejeweled head at Meya with a smile. Her borrowed eye swept the throng, then settled upon Atmund and Jerald in turn, "I'll leave you to your farewells."

After one last smile, she swept back to rejoin Baron Hadrian and oversee the loading of supplies. Meya tore her gaze from her receding back to find Jerald smiling, looking younger than his age for the first time. He nodded at Atmund, who drew in a deep breath and lowered his mask.

Short, wavy black hair. Olive skin with a healthy shine. Thick, dark eyebrows. Two round, protuberant, glowing green eyes. A wee button nose over a smile lined with thin lips and white, uneven teeth. His face was thin and pointed, but his cheeks were full nevertheless.