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Chapter 1152: Persuasion

The Seagull came down slow over the forest terminus, feeling its way along the cleared strip of ground with the particular hesitancy of a machine that had learned to be careful about trees.

Tilly came down the boarding steps and found Ashes waiting where she always waited — at the edge of the cleared zone, a little apart from the people watching the landing, with the expression she wore whenever she’d been counting down the hours.

“You’re here early,” Tilly said.

“Leaf told me you were coming.” Ashes fell in beside her as the onlookers dispersed. “How long are you staying?”

“Until tomorrow morning.” Tilly paused. She had promised Roland she would handle this, and she had not found a way to soften it that she trusted, so she didn’t try. “Iron Axe and Edith are here too. Torch is in its final stage. There’s a lot to coordinate.”

“Overnight,” Ashes said, more to herself than to Tilly, something in her posture shifting into the particular brightness she reserved for occasions that were scarcer than she wanted them to be. “Then we should go to the campsite first. Leaf’s been growing something new — I’ve been saving them — and tonight we could have a bonfire, some barbeque—”

“Not this time.”

Ashes stopped.

“I won’t have time tonight,” Tilly said, before the silence could settle incorrectly. “But you will. Because it’s not me who’s going to be busy — it’s you.” She looked at her. “The Special Unit needs you on the ambush team. Tonight you pack, and tomorrow morning you’re on the Seagull with me.”

A long pause. The forest moved.

“You could have said that at the beginning,” Ashes said at last, slightly plaintive.

“I could have,” Tilly agreed. “But I wanted to see your face.”

She started walking. After a moment, Ashes extended her hand, and Tilly took it.

“The fruit, at least,” Ashes said.

“Yes. Take me there.”


After dinner, in the quiet of their shared room at the encampment, Tilly laid out the operation plan.

She watched Ashes’ face as she explained the structure: the ambush team, the jungle position, Andrea’s God’s Stone rifle, the suppression field that would pull the Magic Slayer from the air. Ashes listened with the focused stillness she brought to anything she considered important. When she understood it, her expression shifted.

“Who’s flying the Seagull?”

Tilly met her eyes. “I am.”

The stillness broke.

“Roland promised me—”

“Roland didn’t agree with this arrangement,” Tilly said. “I volunteered. He would have refused if it were a suicidal mission. It isn’t. Listen to me.” She kept her voice even, because Ashes’ voice was rising and someone had to stay level. “The Seagull is a contingency. Andrea shoots the Magic Slayer on the ground. If she hits, the operation is over. If she misses, the Seagull deploys the God’s Punishment Witches ahead of him, and we pull back while they engage.” She held Ashes’ gaze. “What I actually have to do is fly to a position, hold while the witches drop, and leave. That’s all.”

“That’s—” Ashes stopped herself. Started again. “It’s the Magic Slayer.”

“I know. That’s why I’m the one flying.”

Ashes looked at her with the expression she used when she was trying to find a logical objection and couldn’t, which she found more difficult than finding a physical one.

“It’s still dangerous,” she said.

“Yes,” Tilly said. “Most things are.”

Another silence. Outside, the forest was making its dark sounds.

“If it were truly dangerous, Roland would have tied me to a chair himself,” Tilly said. “He’s done it before, more or less. He understands what I’m risking, and he knows I understand it too, and he allowed it because the risk is real but manageable.” She paused. “I’m not Sleeping Island anymore, Ashes. I’m not the person who stayed behind while everyone else went to the front. I haven’t been that person for a long time.”

Ashes said nothing. She was looking at something that wasn’t in the room.

“Every time you went on an assignment,” Tilly said — and something in her voice changed, became less managed, “whether we were on the island or in Neverwinter — I was the one left behind. Waiting for you to come back in three days, or a week, or a month. Not knowing which it would be.” She kept her voice steady by force. “In the old king’s city, we were together in everything. We were both in danger and we were both present. When did it become your job to go and my job to wait?”

Ashes was finally looking at her again.

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” Tilly said.

The candlelight moved on the wall.

“I have one condition,” Ashes said at last.

“I know — safety first, maximum caution, don’t do anything Roland would—”

“That’s not my condition.”

Tilly stopped.

“One more time,” Ashes said. “That’s my condition.”

She pulled Tilly forward and lowered her head.

The first time, a few minutes before, Tilly had kissed her — quickly, on her toes, gripping her collar, before the argument could go on any longer. She had felt the surprise in Ashes’ stillness and had stepped back before anything else could happen.

This time, Ashes didn’t let her step back.

The candlelight settled.

Outside, the forest breathed in the dark.

When they were done, Tilly looked at the steadiness in Ashes’ face and thought, not for the first time, that she understood exactly why Alice had loved her. Not the strength — though the strength was real — but the simplicity. Ashes decided things and then held them. She did not revisit, did not hedge. She was the most honest person Tilly had ever known.

“Pack tonight,” Tilly said finally. “We leave at first light.”

Ashes pressed her forehead forward, lightly, against Tilly’s.

“I know,” she said.

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