The Sleeper and the Silverblood
The Aftermath

In the blink of an eye that spanned a century, awareness blossomed in the dark.

Kitara floated.

She couldn’t feel anything, which should have panicked her, but soul-crushing exhaustion made her lethargic and unwilling to journey beyond the black.

A murmur echoed in the void, abnormal enough she strained toward the sound.

“…seen anything like it. If they knew…”

“That’s why you’ve been so invested in her and her career.”

Storm.

“Yes. But how was I to explain as much?”

“You could have just…explained.”

“Not when those wounds were so fresh, son. Not without risking you.”

The High Councilor.

“Maybe you’re right.” A sigh.

A third, lilted voice spoke. “The AIDO residents will talk; I can’t imagine your Healers will keep it to themselves.”

Baylen?

“Or your work either.” Storm sounded awestruck. “I wish I could have seen it.”

Baylen chuckled. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities. I have agreed to restore them all, remember?”

Their voices faded, and Kitara knew nothing but darkness again for a time.

When awareness struck next, she paid a bit more attention.

“Do they have any updates?” Devika sounded like she valiantly held back tears.

“They’ve healed all her physical injuries,” Storm’s voice replied. “Baylen even checked for anything amiss. He thinks she just overextended herself.”

A snort. “She unFelled you, man,” Declan said. “If all she did was overextend, she’s lucky. Hell, Phoenix was lucky she didn’t kill him.” After a moment, he muttered, “He’s lucky I don’t kill him.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill you,” Storm grumbled.

“Hey, I said I was sorry. Do I need to grovel some more?”

“Shut up, both of you,” Devika snapped with an uncharacteristic edge.

“We don’t know enough,” someone who sounded like Robert said.

“Do you think she would do it again…?” Devika dared to whisper.

“I’m not asking her that,” the High Engineer replied firmly. “We can’t put that on her. It wouldn’t be fair. Seeing what it did to her this time…the next time might kill her.”

“She shouldn’t have done it for me.” Distress laced Storm’s tone.

Oh Storm, I’d do it a hundred times over if it meant saving you.

Kitara wanted to reach out to tell him so, but unconsciousness swept her away again.

“...you’ve barely left her side.” Kitara didn’t immediately recognize the voice in the room.

“I can’t, Mom.” Storm’s voice was anguished. “If this is even a fraction of what Dad felt when you…” He broke off.

“My darling boy—”

“The nightmares aren’t as bad when I’m with her,” he interrupted his mother. “Mom, if she did this to herself for me, if she ends up lost because of me…I’ll never forgive myself.”

A pause.

“I would take this pain from you if I could.” Ilythia’s voice cracked. “But I know Kitara would not want you blaming yourself. She’s a grown woman—she made her choice. Hell, she was ready to take on the entire High Council to get to you. She defied your father to get to you.”

It sounded like Storm laughed through a sob. “She’s never backed down from anything.”

“Then trust she’ll come back to you.”

Believe me, Storm, I’ll always come for you.

The next time Kitara became aware, she felt…heavy. Everything ached with phantom weariness, but she wasn’t overly uncomfortable.

Her eyes flickered open. Blinking slowly to clear her vision, the room came into focus. The light was dim, not quite dark. She didn’t recognize her surroundings, but she knew, somehow, she was safe. She was also warm, almost too warm. And too heavy.

Kitara tried to get her bearings. She was in bed. The room had an overarching sterile feel, but it wasn’t the AIDO infirmary. Where was she?

Stiffly, she turned her head and started. Now the warmth and heaviness made sense. Storm slept beside her, wherever they were, with one arm wrapped around her. Beyond him, Devika stretched out under a blanket on a couch. Beside her, Phoebe reclined in an armchair, asleep.

Gently, so as not to startle him, Kitara lifted a hand and touched Storm’s arm. He stirred, opening his eyes to meet hers.

Mesmerizing, mercurial, quicksilver eyes, untainted by corrosion or darkness.

A lump rose in Kitara’s throat.

Then he smiled, and the expression made her heart stutter. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she choked through a sob.

“Oh my love,” Storm whispered, lifting a hand to caress her face.

She clung to it like a lifeline. “You’re okay,” she rasped. “You’re really okay.”

“I am now.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Stars, Kit, we were so worried.”

She almost laughed through her tears but didn’t want to wake the women across the room yet. “Worried about me? Are you kidding?”

“How much do you remember?”

“The room was collapsing. And trying to fix the…what Itzal did to you…”

“UnFelling me.” To his credit, Storm’s expression remained serene. “You can say it.”

“I’m so sorry—”

Storm put his fingertips to her lips. “Baylen explained everything. Your plan, your power, all of it. Please please don’t apologize. You saved me, Kitara. He would have Felled me either way.”

She shuddered at the memory of his silver-splattered body, the echo of his screams. “It was horrible,” she whispered. “I’ll never forget it as long as I live.”

Distaste wrinkled his nose. “It wasn’t exactly pleasant, no.”

That made her laugh, and then she was crying.

Storm gathered her in his arms and held her close. She buried her face in his chest. The brush of his consciousness against her mind made her cry harder.

«Do you need a Healer?» he asked, clearly worried about her mental state.

Kitara twisted her fingers in his shirt. «The only Healer I need is right here.»

He kissed the top of her head. «Your heart stopped after you did…whatever you did to fix me,» he said. «I wasn’t fully aware yet, but my father said you were lucky they had Healers on hand.»

«My heart stopped?» Even in her mind, her voice sounded faint.

«The Healers restarted it right away. I don’t think even they’d seen an immortal’s heart stop before. But they brought us both to Valëtyria after, to be safe.»

That explained their surroundings. «The…long-term care facility?»

He nodded. «How much do you want to know right now?»

«Everything. What happened to you?»

«I woke up right before you lost consciousness. The Healers looked me over,» he recalled. «I was very confused, but very much alive and whole. My mom…» His voice broke off as a mixture of overwhelming relief and joy radiated through his consciousness. «I couldn’t believe it when I saw her. I thought I was dead. Then they told me what you did, and I was convinced I was dead. It…shouldn’t have been possible.»

«I wasn’t sure I could do it,» she admitted. «I just knew I had to try.»

«Even Baylen was surprised. And nothing surprises him.»

Her tears began to slow. «He’s been here?»

«A few times. Only with my dad and Robert, though. He’s still a little…trepidatious about the other Councilors. He also seems wary of Mom, but I guess I get it. He and Dad get along quite well, actually. It’s infuriating.»

Kitara laughed out loud, clapping a hand to her mouth when Devika stirred. «Considering your father threatened to Fell him or worse last time I saw them together, that’s a remarkable improvement.»

«Yeah, helping rescue me made a pretty big impact, but he added extra incentive by offering to remake the wings of our injured angels.» His voice took on an awestruck quality. «I got to watch one yesterday. It was incredible.»

«How long have we been here?»

«A little over a week, not including the eighteen hours you spent unFelling me.»

«Eighteen hours?»

«Yes. They kept me under observation for a few days until they had to admit I was fine physically. I think they were relieved to release me: I wasn’t the best patient, especially when they wouldn’t let me see you at first. I kept sneaking out of my room into yours.»

She snorted. «Sounds like you. You never stay where you’re supposed to.»

«It’s funny: my dad said something along those same lines.»

Kitara found his silver eyes in the semi-darkness. «Are you okay? Really? What you went through…»

«The Healers say I have PTSD, but it’s to be expected,» he replied honestly. «Nightmares, heart palpitations, that kind of thing. I’m still technically under observation. Once they realized the nightmares weren’t so bad when I was with you, they stopped complaining about me sneaking in here.»

“Kitara?”

The two of them looked up. Devika sat up on the couch.

“Oh my god, Kitara!” The Historian flung herself across the room and into the middle of their embrace. “Oh my god, you’re okay, you’re awake, you’re okay…” she sobbed, clinging to the Sleeper.

The disturbance woke Phoebe, who rose and crossed to Kitara’s bedside almost as quickly. “Estrellas,” she whispered. “We were so worried. Thank the stars you’re awake.”

A Healer appeared shortly after, taking Kitara’s vitals with a tone bordering on reverence. It took the Healers longer to convince Devika to release her than Storm, reassuring them they could stay with Kitara as long as they wanted. Despite her week-long blackout, Kitara tired quickly, which the Healers assured them was normal—at least, as normal as they could expect. After all, they hadn’t treated anyone like her before.

Kitara remained in the long-term care facility another week for observation, much like Storm, who refused to leave her side except for basic necessities. Once she convinced the Healers to admit visitors, a steady stream of them came and went.

Declan visited first, nearly making her cry all over again in relief.

True to form, he grinned at her reaction. “Aw, Kitara, I didn’t know you cared so much.”

“I was so worried, there was so much blood—”

The Guardian grimaced as he perched on the edge of her bed, rubbing his throat. “That woman was vicious.”

“Did you kill her?”

Declan nodded emphatically. “Oh yeah. Shot her to ashes the second time she latched onto me.”

Kitara smiled grimly. “Good. That’s one less mess to mop up later.”

“Still, you could have warned me about the whole…imploding an enemy with darkness thing. I lost a perfectly good shirt.”

Kitara snorted. “I’d say sorry, except I had no idea that would happen either.”

“Yeah, then the ceiling started melting and…” Declan’s brow furrowed. “Things got a little blurry after that.”

“Due in part to Storm nearly strangling him once he found him.” Devika didn’t look up from her spot on the couch, where she’d lounged for days working or reading a book.

“Too bad asphyxiation isn’t my kink,” Declan replied cheerfully.

Devika rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Brightens your day though, doesn’t it?” Declan countered with a smirk.

Kitara glanced between the Guardian and the silverblood reclining beside her. “But…are you two…okay now?” she hedged.

“Yeah,” Declan said, waving a hand. “Couple conversations, lots of explanation, a little intervention by Baylen…it’s all good now.”

“I said I was sorry,” Storm mumbled in a bizarre echo of a conversation Kitara thought she remembered.

Declan’s expression softened a little. “I know, dude. I don’t blame you. Probably woulda done the same thing if you tried to hand over my girl to a psychopath.”

“That implies you had a girl in the first place,” Devika said, deadpan.

Laughter echoed through the room, punctuated by the sound of Declan’s dramatic groan. “Cold, Dev. Ice cold.”

Robert and Kenric visited next, the latter of whom made Kitara cry again when she saw his restored wings at his back. Robert barely released Kenric’s hand long enough to let him embrace her.

“How are you?” Kitara asked once she had her emotions under control.

“Better than I have any right to be. Tired, mostly,” he admitted, pulling up a chair and glancing over his shoulder. “You don’t realize how heavy they are until you can’t use them much.”

“Are they hurting you?” Kitara asked, sitting up straighter. “Are you doing the physical therapy?”

“No, not hurting. And yes, I’m doing physical therapy. It’s a bit novel for us all; the Healers have seen injuries, of course, but not entirely new…limbs.” He shook his head with a rueful smile. “The Maker. Of all the people…I never would have believed it.”

“Seems to be a theme,” Robert added. Kitara pretended not to notice how he observed her when he thought she didn’t see; she didn’t want to raise his hopes prematurely. UnFelling Storm might have succeeded because of their bond, or how quickly she acted, or his silverblooded genes…

“Anyway,” Kenric continued, unaware of his partner’s covert scrutiny of his friend, “what the Healers have seen so far…they’re optimistic.”

On another occasion, Alasdair and Zayne visited along with Declan, though they didn’t stay long. Alasdair, ever the Engineer, was utterly fascinated with Kitara’s abilities and the implications thereof.

“How did you do it?” he asked. “When Itzal put the chip in you—did you just…unmake it?”

Honestly, it hadn’t even occurred to Kitara to try that. She rubbed the back of her neck, where the skin was smooth and unmarred, thanks to the Healers. “When Itzal said my father created him…it reminded me of an argument my parents had a few weeks before they died. I overheard my father say something about it not being possible, that he created both me and…something else.” She shrugged one shoulder. “It seemed plausible.”

“You could have been killed if you were wrong,” Alasdair pointed out with a spark of concern.

Kitara glanced at Storm. “He’d Felled Storm already. Survival, Felled or not, meant nothing if he didn’t make it too.” Her expression gentled as he met her emerald gaze with his quicksilver one. “If you Fall, I Fall,” she whispered.

Storm swallowed hard. “And no matter where you go,” he whispered back, reaching out to brush some of her hair from her face, “I will follow.”

His eyes brimmed with emotions too raw and deep to name. Kitara reached up to grasp his hand, her own fingers intertwining with his.

They were interrupted when Declan groaned. “Stars, get a room.”

He had to duck, narrowly avoiding the pen Devika chucked at him. “You’re in theirs!”

The room erupted in laughter then. The sound of humor and levity had become commonplace, and for that, Kitara was grateful.

Unwilling to let Kitara out of her sight, Devika practically lived on the spare couch, working remotely from her tablet. When Kitara asked her what she was doing, the Historian grinned sheepishly.

“I’m looking for the angels Felled during that accident in Valëtyria,” she admitted. “Ilythia’s helping me. I figure…tracking down their names, replaceing them again…maybe we can do right by them eventually. They shouldn’t be ostracized because of something out of their control…or punished for something they didn’t do.”

“You want me to try and fix Robert, don’t you.” Kitara didn’t phrase it as a question.

Devika shrugged, blushing. “He told me not to say anything. That it should be left up to you. But if there’s a way to undo it…”

“I’ll try,” Kitara reassured her. “I don’t even know if I can do it again. But if I can without nearly killing myself in the process…of course I’ll try.”

After that, she convinced her sister to return to the AIDO. Devika didn’t argue as much as Kitara expected, finally admitting the library had remained closed during her absence and promising to visit again soon.

Kitara didn’t learn all the details of what happened in Ostragarn until Baylen visited that evening. As the sole individual retaining any sort of consciousness as they ethervesced out of Ostragarn, only he could elaborate.

No longer confined to bed, Kitara sat with Storm on the couch while her cousin gave her the highlights.

“Whatever Itzal was doing, he guarded it closely.” Her cousin stood at the window, observing the Valëtyrian night sky as he spoke. “I’ve come and gone a few times. I think he killed those who worked on the various components, so no single individual knew how it all fit together.”

“But they still have the Fallen formula,” Kitara replied. “They could still use it in other ways. It can still destroy realms—we know that now.”

“Funny that,” Baylen said, still observing the sky. “Some destructive force leveled nearly everything in the area. There’s nothing left of his operation or his equipment, much less the samples of the formula. As I understand it, whoever’s trying to scrape together the remnants was very upset.”

“Leveled nearly everything?” Kitara asked, eyeing him with a shrewd expression.

Baylen’s lips twitched in a smile. “Well, whatever they had left must have been unstable. A few secondary explosions wrecked the rest a day or two later.”

“Uh-huh.” Kitara fought down a similar smile. “Don’t suppose the Maker had anything to do with that?”

“Always a possibility,” he deadpanned, still watching the sky. “Convenient for the AIDO, though. It’s safe to say your people don’t need to worry about Ostragarn for the moment—Valëtyria can focus on rehabilitating their angels after I restore them.”

“You did say you’d be working for the AIDO before the year was out,” Kitara reminded him with a wry smile. “You sure you’re not clairvoyant?”

He snorted. “I’m rather good at prediction after a thousand years. Your High Councilor and his wife are much the same. As far as Ostragarn is concerned, I predict they’ll regress to infighting and jockeying for power. I heard a coven is angling for a takeover soon.”

“Yours?” Kitara asked.

“Not a chance. My coven exists to avoid the political power plays,” Baylen replied, amused. “I’m content to remain as I have: pulling the strings behind the scenes.”

“You won’t be bored?” Kitara couldn’t help needling him.

“While I’m busy for the next six months restoring wingless angels? Hardly.”

Kitara chewed the inside of her lip, glancing between her cousin and Storm at her side. “So what happens now? Is working in Bucharest even an option for me?”

Storm tensed as Baylen finally turned from the window. “I wouldn’t recommend it,” he said mildly. “Technically, a price still hangs over your head. If Itzal put it together, someone else could too. There’s no guarantee his entire circle resided in that building—in fact, I’d wager the opposite. You’re probably well and truly burned in this part of the world..”

It was Kitara’s turn to tense. “I don’t know if I can return to exile posts after this,” she admitted, a note of fear creeping into her voice.

Storm gripped her hand. “We’ll do everything we can to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

Baylen watched them for a long moment, his expression contemplative. “I may be able to offer a solution,” he began. “But it’s not the most…orthodox.”

Kitara raised an eyebrow. “Is anything ever orthodox with you, B?”

Declan had coined the nickname, and it stuck.

Baylen hated it.

His nose wrinkled. “Never mind.”

She and Storm stifled their laughter. “No, please—tell me.”

He resumed watching the Valëtyrian sky. “Rooting out information about Storm’s whereabouts exposed Blake more than I’d like,” he admitted. “And my network has expanded beyond my ability to keep an eye on everything personally. If I’m going to be enmeshed with the AIDO for the next few months, I’m going to need to make some changes.”

Storm and Kitara exchanged a wary glance. “How does this solve my possible reassignment?” she asked.

“I am not suddenly swearing allegiance to Valëtyria and the AIDO,” Baylen said, side-eyeing her from the window. “Even if, for the moment, we have a mutually beneficial relationship. But allow me to propose an idea, and I’d like you to keep an open mind.” His gaze flickered to Storm. “Both of you.”