Kalian didn't rest that day, despite orders from the medics. Instead, he made himself as busy as possible. Lir helped by giving him numerous tasks to complete. Whenever someone offered to trade out with him, Kalian refused. He wanted to stay busy. It helped distract him from his memories.

When night finally fell, it was a sleepless one. Kalian forced himself to stay awake in a desperate attempt to avoid the nightmares he knew would plague him. It was a relief when the sun was up and he could work once more. Kalian sat outside his tent, whittling a sturdy stick into a crutch for Bellamy to use until his leg was healed.

Bellamy sat beside him, helping where he could, but mostly just watching. "Your burns are already gone," he noticed.

Kalian smoothed hair from his forehead. "I told you I'd be fine. The burns were mild. Besides, I heal quickly."

The effects the iron held over his magic had faded around noon the day prior, just in time for him to redo his glamour. It had also sped up his healing process. His burns were gone, leaving only a faint ache behind. For that, he was grateful. His memories weren't quite as overwhelming now that the familiar pain had vanished.

"Delilah said you didn't sleep much last night."

Kalian glanced at him. "Delilah?"

"Our tentmate? Blonde hair, green eyes, kind of resembles a cat?"

"A cat?"

    "She has very narrow eyes and soft features," Bellamy clarified.

    Kalian frowned. "Is she the one who blushes every time she looks at me?"

Bellamy grinned. "That's the one."

"How does she know?"

"I imagine she was watching you or something. Don't take that wrong though."

"Seems a bit hard not to," Kalian muttered. He pried more bark off the stick and began to smooth the remaining wood down.

"She's generally very shy and awkward around men, especially when she finds them attractive. You're new and better looking than anyone in this camp. Give it time. She'll lose interest soon enough."

"Sure she will."

"I could tell her you're already spoken for, if that helps," Bellamy chuckled with a suggestive wink.

The corners of Kalian's mouth lifted. "I appreciate the offer."

Bellamy lounged back against a small tool box, grimacing as he shifted his injured leg. "But?"

"But I'm not interested in anyone, and I'd rather not give people the wrong idea."

"Understandable. The offer does remain, of course." Bellamy clasped his hands atop his stomach and tilted his head, watching Kalian curiously. "You mentioned before that your wife called you Kal. I didn't want to pry, so I just assumed that she's..."

"Dead?" Kalian said, when Bellamy appeared hesitant. Bellamy nodded. "She is."

"How long?"

"Two years." Memories pounded through his temples, though he did his best to ignore them. He was starting to feel a little better. He didn't want to relapse now. Bellamy's gaze lingered. "We had a daughter. She died too." Kalian licked his lips and swallowed, trying to draw moisture back into his mouth.

"How old was she?"

"Five."

"Damn."

"I prefer not to talk about it."

Bellamy nodded slowly. "Most people don't, but sometimes it's what we need. Memories have a way of making themselves known eventually, no matter how hard we try to ignore them." He gestured to Kalian's scarred wrists. "And talking will yield better results than whatever caused those."

"Deirdre!" Malachi barked. Kalian shifted his gaze to the male as he approached. "Commander Lev wants to see you." He rounded on Bellamy. "And you. Just because you're injured doesn't mean you get to slack off around here. I'm sure Lir has something you can do."

Kalian pushed himself to his feet, wings slightly flared. "Actually, the medics gave him strict orders not to do anything that requires him using his leg for the next week. If you want him to stay injured longer, or risk his leg healing poorly and eventually having to be amputated, by all means. Put him to work. Make him slave away. I'm sure Commander Lev would appreciate losing such a valuable soldier due to your negligence."

He could practically feel Bellamy's smug grin. Malachi glowered at the two of them and stormed off without another word. "Thanks," Bellamy said. "But I'll probably go see if there are any weapons that need cleaning or tents, clothes, and gear that needs mended. I can sit down for most of that."

"Good idea. I'll finish this later." Kalian ducked into the tent and set his tools and the partially formed crutch aside.

When he came back out, Bellamy was already balancing on one foot. Kalian slid an arm around his waist, helping him over to the armory tent. He caught sight of Commander Lev waiting near her own tent, but didn't bother to join her. He'd see to Bellamy first. Another smile tugged on Kalian's lips. He was beginning to like the young man, despite the circumstances.

Kalian's smile faded as quickly as it formed. After he uncovered the Ironblade plot, he'd leave for the Faerie Lands and he and Bellamy would be enemies again. In fact, they were enemies now, but he was the only one who knew that. If he was revealed as a Faerie while inside the camp, he doubted Bellamy would stand by him. He couldn't let himself grow attached to the male any more. He couldn't grow attached to anyone. It would only spell disaster.

Kalian left him at the armory and headed back to Commander Lev's tent, ignoring Bellamy's wave. "Malachi said you wanted to see me?" He asked when he reached the Commander.

She nodded and ducked inside her tent. Kalian followed. Commander Lev was already standing beside her desk. She pointed at a report. "I said I'd give you a chance to prove yourself. Here it is." Kalian took the paper and began to read.

☽◦༻◦☽◦༺◦☽

Moira watched as Kalian absorbed their new orders. Something similar to guilt flickered across his features when he finally set the report down. "If they're heading to Port, it means they intend to leave the country," Kalian said. "Attacking them holds no purpose."

Moira narrowed her eyes. "Those are our orders, regardless of what their intentions are. Will you help me plan an attack or not?"

"Yes," he sighed.

Moira sat down and pulled a map out from beneath the rest of her papers. "We'll have to leave in two days at least if we're going to intercept the caravan before they reach Port." She traced a route with her finger.

The scent of ice, wind, and freshly cut spruce boughs reached her as Kalian leaned closer. His gaze darted between the map and the report. "This attack will have to be quiet so we don't attract unwanted attention. That close to Port, we'll run into Captain Caspian Flynn's men, and he's a known Faerie ally. Faeries are granted sanctuary in Port, and anyone who harms them is liable to be arrested or killed."

"Bloody pirate," Moira muttered. "I don't know why the Governors ever agreed to give him jurisdiction there."

"His fleet protects Orphic's port towns from other pirates."

"We could've employed a fleet of our own."

"Do you know how much it costs to build and man an entire fleet of ships?" Kalian raised an eyebrow. "More than any honest man earns."

"So we must rely on dishonest men instead?" Moira retorted.

"At least with dishonest men, you can rely on greed to help keep them honest. And anyway, Captain Flynn might be a pirate, but I do think he has some good morals."

"Pirates have no morals."

"Many people would say the same about Ironblades." Moira's gaze shot to his. Kalian wisely didn't look at her. "Another attack after dark would be best. Day Faeries are more powerful during the day, and there's a risk of someone seeing our forces. The fewer people who go, the better. Sneak into the camp and..." His voice faltered. Again, that guilty look filled his dark blue eyes.

"Slit their throats while they sleep," Moira finished. Kalian nodded. "They're bound to have shields protecting the caravan at night and if we're going to keep this attack quiet, spark powder won't work. The flames are too noticeable."

Kalian's features became frozen. "Is there a way to get a reaction from the powder without starting a fire in the process?"

Moira thought for a moment. "Not that I know of."

"Then we need to think of a way to keep the flames from spreading." When he next spoke, his voice was cold and flat. "Faerie shields won't register water as a life form or a threat. You can throw water over the area where you're going to lay the spark powder. If you light it fast enough, it should still work and the shields will break, but the flames won't be able to keep burning."

Moira nodded slowly. "It's worth a shot. I'd rather try and fail at that than run through the shields and be struck dead a second later."

"Have you seen that happen before?"

She nodded once again. "Faeries are smart. When they pass through areas with high Ironblade activity, they give their shields a little more kick. Several of my soldiers have blown themselves up just by touching the shields with the tip of their finger."

"We protect our own," Kalian murmured. He blinked suddenly. "And so do they."

"Don't try to humanize them."

She didn't miss the way his jaw clenched and his body wound taut. "Why?" Kalian's eyes locked with hers. "Does it make you question if our methods are truly the right ones?"

Moira glared, curling her nails into her desk. "Because they are selfish and power hungry monsters. They are nothing like us and we don't deserve that comparison."

"If they are nothing like us, why do they fight to defend their children and homes? Why do they flee persecution? Why do they..."

"They are monsters," Moira spat. "They deserve to die."

Kalian's gaze darkened, the angry shadows seeping into every inch of his face. The cut of his cheekbones grew sharper. The curve of his lips was more pronounced. His jaw was more defined. Even the angle of the dark hair dusting his brow seemed to stand out. Moira pressed herself back in her chair, wariness washing over her. There was something beautiful, but also deadly about the change that had overcome him.

Kalian blinked and the shadows receded. Whatever change she'd seen in his features vanished. There was only a handsome and unhappy man standing before her. "I'd like to remain in camp this time," he said. "Someone has to make sure Bellamy doesn't overexert himself, especially with Malachi breathing down his neck."

"Fine." Moira pointed to the tent flaps. "Let's hope your plan works." Kalian didn't bother with a reply. He slipped outside without so much as a whisper of sound. Moira tilted her head, lifting a pencil to her lips. "What are you hiding, Kalian Deirdre?" She whispered.