Ve'Rah Daa (The Ephemeral: Book 3)

Chapter 34

The army spent hours traversing the Gorge with their carts, pack horses, and supply wagons, and as I helped an apprehensive Frank across the river, I imagined Sol's afterlife looking something like this—thousands of men and women squeezing through a bottleneck into hell. One by one. Soul by soul.

When we finally made it to the trees again, it took less than thirty minutes to locate the Rhean military base, and I almost collapsed to my knees when I spotted their encampment.

They were here, just like they said they'd be.

Our alliance hadn't dissolved the second we turned our backs on Freemont, and neither had their intention to fight.

Thank the skies.

The clans pooled out of their tents and lean-tos to greet us, and nervousness churned in my belly as they stopped to observe our parade. This was really happening, wasn't it? Today we'd see the union of two forces, two enemies, two countries—one that hadn't existed since the Crash. We'd see if Tori, Will, and Jackson's integration made successful pilots, or if our people were destined to draw blood and misery. And despite so many centuries of carnage and betrayal between us, I sincerely hoped it was the former.

We paused just short of their camp, and I searched the crowd for that shaggy raven hair and an unmistakable face tattoo, but Will was nowhere to be found. And when I glanced over at Siren and Rover, pouting my bottom lip, I found them staring at me expectantly.

I immediately snapped to attention. Right.

You're playing mediator today, Al. On with it.

I stepped forward, nodding at the Rheans I recognized, smiling at the ones I'd come to befriend. Then Laughlin and Reese appeared, and they both heaved giant sighs of relief, like they hadn't expected me to hold up my end of the deal—or find the bridge crossing.

"I'm hurt by your lack of confidence," I teased, offering my hand.

Laughlin clasped my forearm and grunted. "Don't take it personally. I doubt everyone's capabilities."

My tense smile loosened a bit at their cordial welcome, and Reese pulled me in for a hug to destroy any lingering awkwardness. "You had a lot on your plate, Alex. Well done."

If you only knew the half of it...

I beckoned Rover and Siren closer, completely ignoring Burroughs and General Iver, although they seemed far too cagey for introductions anyway. "Reese, Chief Laughlin, I'd like you to meet my commanding officers, Lieutenant General Wright," they shook hands, "and Siren, the—"

"Reaper of the Canopy," Laughlin cut in, dipping his chin. When he was met with several bewildered glances, he added, "Folklore isn't exclusive to Ellsians. Word gets around."

Siren narrowed her eyes, but when she spoke, a meager helping of respect coated her tongue. "Alex spoke very highly of your village," she commended. "I hear you're entirely self-sustaining."

"We do our best," Reese said, shooting me a private smile.

"I've built a community of my own as well, one independent of Ellsian oversight." The archer nodded approvingly. "I admire your success."

Laughlin's eyes flicked to the wall of female archers behind her, and he cocked his head. "Likewise."

Rover and I traded looks, pleased by our prickly leaders' civility. Then the captain showcased that warm, disarming smile that had built him his army, and he shed his traveling pack. "We have a lot to discuss. Perhaps while my men get situated, we can chat over that Rhean mead Jackson's told me so much about."