They returned to the city three days after the fortress battle.
Ethan nearly cried when he saw them. "I thought you were dead. Neither of you sent word, and then I heard about the fortress burning, and—"
"We're fine," Lyra assured him, though "fine" was generous. Kael's shoulder where the holy sword had pierced him was infected. His other wounds were healing slowly. Even with the sword's power, holy steel left marks that didn't fade easily.
Lyra wasn't much better. She'd taken a bad cut across her ribs during the escape.
"You both look terrible," Ethan said bluntly.
"Thanks," Kael muttered.
They'd found a new safe house in the lower city—a cramped apartment above a baker's shop. It smelled like bread, which was an improvement over the usual smell of safe houses.
For the next week, they did nothing but rest. Kael slept more than he had in months. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the red light, felt the sword taking control.
It had been so easy. So tempting. Just let go, let the power handle everything.
But then he wouldn't be Kael anymore. He'd just be a weapon. A thing.
"You're thinking too loud," Lyra said one morning. She was sitting on the windowsill, reading through the documents they'd stolen from Reeve.
"Can't help it."
"Still worried about the fortress? About losing control?"
"Aren't you?"
Lyra set the documents aside. "Honestly? Yes. I am. What I saw in that hall... that wasn't you. That was something else wearing your face."
"I know. And it wanted to kill you."
"But it didn't," Lyra pointed out. "Because you fought back. Because even when the sword had control, you were strong enough to stop it. That's what matters."
"What if next time I'm not strong enough?"
"Then I'll stop you," Lyra said simply. "One way or another."
Kael looked at her. "You'd kill me?"
"If the sword took you completely? If there was nothing left of Kael and only the monster remained?" She met his eyes. "Yes. I would. Because that's what you'd want."
It should have been horrifying. Instead, Kael felt relieved.
"Thank you," he said.
"Don't thank me for promising to kill you. That's weird."
Despite everything, Kael laughed. "Fair enough."
The laughter faded as Lyra returned to her documents.
"What are we going to do?" Kael asked after a moment. "About Julian?"
"I don't know," Lyra admitted. "He's gone to ground. None of my contacts have seen him since the fortress. His organization is in chaos—people fleeing, operations shutting down. But he's alive, and as long as he's alive, he's dangerous."
"So we hunt him."
"Eventually. But not yet. You need to heal. We need to rebuild our intelligence network. Figure out who we can still trust." She looked at him seriously. "And you need to get control of that sword. Really control it. Before it controls you."
"How?"
"I don't know. But we'll figure it out." She stood, stretching. "For now, just focus on recovering. Ethan's been cooking—poorly, but he's trying. You should eat something."
Over the following days, a routine developed. Ethan cooked—his skills were improving, slowly. Lyra worked on gathering intelligence, rebuilding her network. Kael practiced with Soulrender, trying to find the balance between using its power and maintaining control.
It was almost domestic. Almost normal.
Which made Kael nervous. Normal wasn't something he'd experienced since his father died.
On the tenth day, Lyra came back with news.
"One of my contacts saw Julian," she said, bursting into the apartment with unusual energy. "Or someone who looked like him. One-handed man with expensive clothes in the southern district. Buying passage on a ship."
"A ship to where?"
"The coastal provinces. Probably planning to flee the capital, start over somewhere else."
Kael stood. "Then we go after him."
"Not yet. My contact isn't sure it was him. And even if it was, we don't know which ship or when it sails." Lyra held up a hand. "I've got people watching the docks. If it's Julian, we'll know."
"And if he escapes?"
"Then we follow. But running after every rumor is how people get killed." She sat down, pulling out a map. "Let me do this right. Give me three days to confirm. Then, if it's him, we move."
Kael wanted to argue. Wanted to run to the docks right now. But Lyra was right. Rushing had nearly gotten them killed at the fortress.
"Three days," he agreed. "But if he gets away—"
"He won't," Lyra promised. "I've got good people watching. If Julian's in this city, we'll find him."
The three days passed slowly. Kael spent the time training, writing in his journal, trying to hold onto memories that kept slipping away.
He couldn't remember his sister's name anymore. That bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
On the third evening, Lyra returned looking tired and frustrated.
"It wasn't him," she said. "The one-handed man was a merchant who lost his hand in an accident. Looked similar from a distance, but not Julian."
Kael felt disappointment settle in his chest. "So we're back to nothing."
"Not nothing. I'm still gathering information. Julian can't stay hidden forever." She poured herself wine from a bottle Ethan had bought. "He'll surface eventually. And when he does, we'll be ready."
She drank the wine quickly, then poured another glass.
"Bad day?" Kael asked.
"Lost another contact. Julian's people got to him first. That's three this week." She drank again. "My network is falling apart, Kael. People are scared. They don't want to cross Julian, don't want to end up dead."
"I'm sorry."
"Not your fault." She refilled her glass a third time. "This is good wine. Where did Ethan get it?"
"Some merchant owed him a favor."
"Ethan has merchants owing him favors? When did that happen?"
They talked for a while, Lyra drinking steadily, her words gradually becoming less sharp, more relaxed. By the time the bottle was empty, she was swaying slightly.
"I should slow down," she said, looking at the empty bottle with surprise. "When did that happen?"
"About an hour ago," Kael replied, amused despite himself.
"Huh. I'm drunk."
"Little bit."
"M'not usually drunk. Being drunk is dangerous. Makes you sloppy." She poked his chest. "You should be careful of drunk people. They do stupid things."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Good. Because I'm about to do something stupid."
"What—"
But she'd already moved closer, pressing against him, her head finding his shoulder with practiced ease.
"This," she said. "This is the stupid thing."
"Leaning on me?"
"Being comfortable. Letting my guard down. I don't do that. Can't do that. It's dangerous."
Kael put an arm around her, supporting her weight. "It's okay. I've got you."
"That's the problem," Lyra mumbled into his shirt. "You've got me. And I've got you. And it's all so... complicated."
"Life's complicated."
"Mmm. But you make it more complicated. You with your cursed sword and your revenge quest and your stupid face."
"My stupid face?"
"S'not really stupid. It's actually very nice. I like looking at it." She tilted her head up, her eyes unfocused but sincere. "Did I ever tell you that? That I like your face?"
"Can't say you have."
"Well, I do. I like lots of things about you. Your face. Your hands. The way you fight. The way you write in that journal even though you're terrible at writing." She poked his chest again. "The way you saved Ethan without asking for anything. The way you always try to protect me even though I don't need protecting."
"Lyra—"
"I'm not done." She was definitely drunk now, words slurring slightly. "I like the way you kiss. Did I mention that? We should kiss more. We don't kiss enough."
"You're drunk."
"I'm aware. Doesn't make it less true." She pressed closer, her breath warm against his neck. "You know what else is true?"
"What?"
"I think I..." She trailed off, her eyes starting to close. "I think I might..."
"Might what?"
"Love..." The word was barely a whisper, and then she was asleep, her full weight against him, breathing deep and steady.
Kael sat there, holding her, his heart pounding.
She almost said it. Almost said the words that would make everything even more complicated than it already was.
Part of him wished she'd finished. Part of him was glad she hadn't.
He adjusted his position carefully, settling her more comfortably against him. He could move her to the bed, but she looked peaceful like this. And honestly, he didn't want to let go.
Ethan appeared in the doorway, saw them, and smiled.
"She finally told you?" he whispered.
"Told me what?"
"That she's in love with you. She's been working up to it for weeks."
"She didn't say it. She fell asleep."
Ethan laughed quietly. "That's so Lyra. Even drunk, she can't commit." He grabbed a blanket, draping it over both of them. "You should sleep too. You both look exhausted."
"I'll move her to the bed in a minute."
"Sure you will," Ethan said, knowing. He retreated to his own room.
Kael sat in the quiet apartment, Lyra asleep against him, and thought about love. About whether he felt the same. About what it meant to care for someone when you were slowly losing pieces of yourself to a demon sword.
Lyra stirred, mumbling something incomprehensible, then settling again.
In the morning, she'd probably be embarrassed. Would claim she didn't remember saying any of it.
But Kael would remember.
Even if the sword took everything else, he'd hold onto this memory. This moment. The almost-confession from a woman who never admitted weakness.
He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, still holding her.
Tomorrow they'd hunt for Julian again.
Tomorrow there'd be danger and violence and all the complications of their cursed lives.
But tonight, for a few hours, there was just this.
Just peace.
Just them.
And maybe, just maybe, something that felt like love.
* * *
END OF CHAPTER 29