Zach Brenner's Arc

Chapter 19 of 86

The three of them crossed into Tyr Alys at dusk, wounds bound and legs shaking. Zach's side still burned with every breath. At the gate, Lyra stopped. "You two find beds," she said. "I'll go to the white mage guild. Ayla can close these cuts, but I need to bring her to us. She won't leave her post for strangers." Raven touched her cousin's name like a coin she hadn't spent in years. "Tell her Raven asks," she said. "She'll come." Lyra nodded and slipped into the crowd toward the tower. Zach and Raven took a room at an inn near the wall. It had two beds and a narrow balcony. Zach dropped his pack and stepped outside for air. The moon hung full over the city's spires. He heard the door slide behind him. Raven leaned on the rail beside him, quiet. "Where I come from," Zach said, "there's no magic. No swords in stones. I drove a truck. I paid rent. If a monster came, we'd call the police, not pull a blade." He rubbed the tattoo on his forearm. "Some nights I can't picture home anymore. It's getting thin." Raven watched him. "You still want to go back." "I don't know what I want," he said. "That's the problem." She was silent a moment. Then she looked up at him. "Back in that tower, I thought we'd die. I keep thinking about the thing I didn't do." A small smile. "Do you still want that kiss?" Zach turned to her. "Yeah," he said. "I do." She leaned in. He met her. The kiss was slow and warm, and for a breath the burning in his side went quiet. When they pulled apart, she pressed her forehead to his and didn't move away. Across the city, in the west tower, Lyra found the white mage. Ayla stood over a cot, hands glowing silver above a fevered child. Her white hair fell past a staff tipped with a bright crystal. She finished, wiped her brow, and only then looked up. "You're an elf," Ayla said. "But not of my order. What do you want?" "Raven Nightshade sent me," Lyra said. "Your cousin. She's hurt. So is the man she travels with. They rest at an inn by the wall." The staff lowered. Ayla's calm cracked into something younger. "Raven's here? In Tyr Alys?" She was already reaching for her cloak. "She left the Elder Tree. Fool girl." But she smiled saying it. Lyra caught her arm. "There's more. They chase a sorcerer to the Dead River. Malachar means to raise Maximus Darkthorne." Ayla went still. The name landed hard. "Then healing won't be enough," she said. "You'll need a white mage who can walk the road with you." She lifted her staff and pulled her hood up. "Take me to my cousin. I'm coming." Lyra let out a breath. They had a healer now. And she would not stay behind.