Page 65 of Gryphon’s Fire

“Agreed,” Keir answered. “Lazarus has more experience with Verona, but I can tell you from my own interactions that Verona’s sense of reason skipped town a long time ago.”

Despite the situation, Keir’s description tilted my lips into a hint of a smile. That smile vanished when I considered what I truly thought Verona would do. “I believe she’ll come after me.”

Keir immediately tensed. “We don’t know that.”

“No, we do not, but Verona needs a target for all the rage that’s been building within her. We don’t know for certain why Verona was kept alive. Most likely some misguided fool thought they could redeem her.”

Lulabelle jerked back. “They’ve been trying to rehabilitate her? Why would anyone do that after her actions?” Lulabelle’s gaze flicked between Keir and myself, as if my gryphon might have an answer I didn’t.

I considered all the possible answers and finally settled on a wholly inadequate, “It is complicated.”

Nose wrinkling and eyes narrowing, Lulabelle’s expression told me exactly what she thought of that. “Just kill her and be done with it is what I say.”

“In Verona’s case, I do not disagree.” She’d already been allowed far too much leniency when she murdered my sister. Compassion allowed Verona to escape her earned fate the first time around. I was uncertain if that same empathy was the reason for her second escape from death. Thalia’s wisdom wasn’t infallible. She’d allowed the lighter sentence the first time. She’d learned her lesson and ordered Verona’s execution the second time. Unfortunately, others had a different idea and acted against their flight leader’s orders. From what I understood, they’d paid the ultimate price for their betrayal.

Had those who protected Verona known the outcome of their actions, they would have chosen a different path. Only oracles could see the future and not even they could decipher the exact version of the future that would happen.

Lulabelle waved me off, as if yet again, dismissing another topic. “Have you heard from Jima yet?”

Keir’s muscles shifted from tense to strung so tight I felt he could snap at any moment. His answer was a clipped “no.” I knew the lack of contact was playing havoc with Keir’s sense of calm. My intended mate was having trouble sleeping and I knew he forced food into his body instead of enjoying its flavor. Not that I had room to judge. I was just as restless and inappetent.

Brow furrowing, Lulabelle considered that singular word before releasing a heavy breath and rising. “I need to speak with Grandmother. Since you haven’t received word from Jima, she’s attempted to put Jaakobah off another day, but naturally, he’s refused. Jaakobah’s crowing over the fact that so many heads of surrounding flights have promised to attend. I’m sorry to say that there is no way he’ll be persuaded to delay. That would make him look bad in the eyes of others. They’d begin wondering if there is something more going on.”

“They wouldn’t be wrong,” I answered.

“No, they wouldn’t, but Jaakobah doesn’t want any others to realize that.”

Keir rose from his seat and moved toward his cousin. “Any word regarding my father?”

Color rose to Lulabelle’s cheeks. “Nothing that Jaakobah doesn’t want to get out. Xavier returned earlier. He’s speaking with Grandmother right now. I’ll let you know if Xavier brought back any valuable information. Not that I’m expecting much. If Xavier does have anything valuable to say, then it’s not intentional. He’s such a schmuck.”

There was definitely no love lost there.

“Thank you, Lulabelle. I don’t know what I would have done if you and Grandmother weren’t supportive, if you truly believed the filth Jaakobah’s been spreading.”

Lulabelle patted Keir on the cheek. “We are not so easily misled, Cousin. Come find me when you hear from Jima.” Not if, but when.

Turning on her heel, Lulabelle left, leaving Keir and me alone. Keir’s gaze remained fixed on the closed door, his muscles were stiff with tension. I didn’t think the aged oak door was what Keir saw.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I moved in from behind, wrapping my arms around Keir’s stiff body and pulling it toward me. I was alarmed when my actions failed to get the relaxation I desired.

“I don’t believe my thoughts are worth that much human coin.” Keir’s voice sounded distant.

“Allow me to be the judge of that. Speak what is plaguing your mind. Perhaps together we can purge its poison.”

Keir was silent long enough I thought he wouldn’t answer. Tone flat, Keir finally lanced the wound. “I’ve been judging them all—judging them for listening to and believing Jaakobah’s false promises and imagined safety. But what right do I have when I allowed myself to be so misled by Tenzen Huxley? I’ve been wondering why I could see through Jaakobah’s act but not Huxley’s. What was the difference?”

I eased my thumb back and forth, rubbing what I hoped were soothing circles along Keir’s abdomen. I took a moment to carefully weigh my response. I could argue and tell Keir that Huxley fooled everyone, but that wasn’t what my future mate needed right now. Keir needed to be heard. He needed to work this out on his own. “And what conclusions have you come to?”

Keir’s wrinkled brow reflected in a nearby mirror. “I think it’s because Jaakobah’s words, his views, didn’t align with what I truly thought. It was the early days then and I believe Jaakobah learned from his mistakes with me. As for Huxley…” Keir released a heavy sigh, but it did nothing to ease his tension. “Huxley told me exactly what I wanted to hear. During a time when no one from my flight seemed to believe me, Huxley told me I’d been in the right. He reinforced my beliefs one by one. Huxley didn’t promise to fix my problems, but he did promise me the tools to do so myself. Tenzen gave me responsibilities. He trusted me to care for the lives of those within the council, to make decisions that were best for our members and those we served.”

Realization slammed into me. “He made you the flight leader you were always supposed to be.” Keir was raised to be a leader, to take over for his father one day. Choosing to leave his flight had ended those plans and dreams. Huxley had given a portion of that seemingly dead future back to Keir.

“Was I truly that naïve? Did I need to belong so badly that I believed his words and promises? There were signs. Looking back, I see that now. Subtle as they were, they were there. I was so very wrong.”

I hugged Keir tighter. “Continuing to believe in the face of contradicting evidence is the easy path, Keir. Admitting you were wrong is far more difficult and far more noble.”

Keir shook his head. “Too little, too late.”