Ever So Lightly- Book 1

37

"Zephyr."

The three of them turned to see Frederick Devereaux making his way down the tunnel toward them. Bennet stepped aside as Zephyr pushed past him, and he thought he could feel the air pulse around her as she stepped up to the approaching man.

"I'm glad to see you're okay," Frederick began, but he was cut off when the torchlights flickered, a harsh breeze filling the tunnel before everything went unnervingly still.

"You knew." Zephyr's voice was a knife, cutting and digging with those two small words. Frederick stood his ground, unphased.

"I did."

Saria took a step forward. "What are you two talking about?" She threw a harsh glare at her father. "What did you know?"

"Did Agitha know?" Bennet had never seen anything like it. Zephyr looked like a pixie from a child's storybook, small and silver, her eyes seeming to glow as she stared up at a man at least two heads taller than her. Frederick was imposing at the best of times, tall like his daughter, but solid where she was willowy. His auburn beard and lined face gave him a stern look. Bennet wouldn't have had the nerve to stand up to him. But watching the scene before him, he would have placed his bet on the pixie, hands down.

Frederick held Zephyr's gaze for a long moment before answering. "She did."

Zephyr exploded.

"Why did any of you think it was a good idea to keep it from me?" she screamed, the air around her beginning to swirl, kicking up dust and threatening to put out the torches. Saria made to rush toward her, but Bennet grabbed her around the waist and held her back against him. She fought to push out of his arms, but Bennet knew that Zephyr needed to do this. She had every right to be angry.

"Why didn't someone tell me?" she continued, her voice half sob, half yell.

"Because I told them not to." The air immediately stilled as a new voice boomed from down the hall. A line of figures approached, the speaker in the lead. Bennet watched Zephyr look at her hands, frantically scanning the area around her as though she didn't understand something. Had she not cut off her own power?

Frederick stepped aside to make way for the man leading the approaching group. He stopped right where Frederick had stood facing down Zephyr. He was an old man, easily in his late sixties, with naturally grey hair that was tied back away from his face. His aged skin was weathered and lined. Though he was of average height and build, he walked with a slight limp, a cane held in his right hand. Who was this man that even Frederick Devereaux seemed to defer to? Bennet gave the figure another look over, and that's when his gaze caught on the man's eyes.

"Zephyr," the old man whispered, his voice choking on the name as tears filled his striking green eyes.

Zephyr stood, frozen, staring silently. Bennet release his hold on Saria, who put a hand to her mouth.

"No." Zephyr's voice was so small, Bennet almost didn't catch the word. "They're all dead." The old man seemed to break a bit at her words. Tears ran down his face into his white beard.

"You look so much like her." Zephyr's face crumpled and Bennet's heart throbbed at the sight. Saria took a tentative step forward, then another, until she was close enough to place a hand on her friend's shoulder. The touch seemed to unravel Zephyr. She sniffled, a fist pressing against her lips as she squeezed her eyes closed. They stood that way for a while, Zephyr fighting to gain control of her emotions, the old man watching her like she was the most magnificent sight in all of Auros. In all of the world.

Zephyr's breathing evened out after a few more long heartbeats. She opened her eyes once more and stared into the lined face of the man before her.

"Who are you?" Her voice, still a whisper, held a note of disbelief. A fight against hope, one that she was losing. The man gave a shaky laugh, and Saria stepped back to stand by Bennet once more.

"My name is Matthew Allwood. My daughter was Adelynn Allwood. Adelynn Starling." He paused, reaching a hand toward Zephyr, the gesture so hopeful, so afraid. "Your mother."

For a moment that seemed to go on for years, Zephyr looked at that outstretched hand. The tension in the air was almost suffocating, and Bennet couldn't take much more of this standing still. Finally, Zephyr's eyes crinkled and the smallest of smiles took its place on her lips. She stepped forward, past Matthew's hand, to embrace him tightly. The old man pulled her tight against his chest, dropping his cane to hold her.

"I've waited seventeen years to see you again." He didn't seem to be talking to Zephyr, more to himself. Reassuring himself that she was really there, alive and in his arms. Bennet looked around to see if there was a single dry eye left in the hallway when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he saw one of the women who had shooed him away earlier as he attempted to enter the room where they had taken Jasper.

"He's awake now, if you'd like to see him." The stout woman of middling age looked down her nose at his filthy shirt, but waved him toward the door anyways. Bennet looked back at Zephyr, unsure of whether or not to break up the happy reunion to tell her that Jasper was okay. Saria pushed him toward the door.

"Go on," she whispered, giving his arm another push. "I'll make sure she knows, she'll want to see him. But you go in first." Bennet nodded in thanks before turning away and walking through the wooden door.