The Ace of Skulls

Forty-Six

The funeral was held on a high hillside on a bright chill morning. A nipping wind blew about the mourners, stirring their coats against them. Long thin clouds raced across the sky. In the distance lay the city of Thesk, slumped and shattered but still undefeated, and the Archduke’s palace stood proud at its heart.

It was a lonely spot, and there were only eight at the graveside including Bess. She held a bunch of mountain flowers in one huge hand, with a great sod of earth hanging off them where she’d torn them from the ground. The rest were all crew, except for Samandra Bree, who’d come with Crake. Harkins sniffed quietly and Pinn had his collar up and his shoulders hunched, his grim face barely visible. Silo was impassive as ever. Ashua stood silently with her arms crossed.

Before them all stood Malvery. He’d volunteered for the eulogy. It seemed the least he could do.

‘What can you say when a part of your life ain’t there any more?’ he said, his voice low and heavy. ‘Words don’t change much. Best you can do is remind yourself why it is you miss ’em.’

He paused for a long time. Bess stirred uncertainly.

‘He was a fighter,’ Malvery said at last. ‘You gotta give him that. Can’t ever say he was lucky in love, but he found it in the end, and that’s more than most of us can expect. He could be an arsy bastard at times, but mostly he made us laugh, and he always seemed to be there when you needed him.’ He gave a deep sigh and lowered his head. ‘He was the heart and soul of us. There wouldn’t have been a Ketty Jay without him.’

He went down on one knee and placed one hand on the grave marker. It was an old plate from the engine room, scratched with a name and some dates.

‘We’ll never forget him,’ said Malvery. ‘He was a damn fine cat.’

Afterwards, as they made their way back to the shuttle, Crake said ‘Shame the Cap’n couldn’t be here. He’d have liked to see Slag off with the rest of us.’

‘Would’ve been nice,’ Malvery agreed. ‘But he ain’t gonna be out of hospital for another month at least and, to be fair, that cat was starting to reek.’

Frey crept warily through the corridors of the hospital, eyes and ears alert. His bare feet were cold on the polished floor, but he moved in silence, and that was what was important. He couldn’t go fast, but he could go smart. Nurse Crowsnitch had become predictable, her patrols too regular. This time there’d be no stopping him. Nobody was making him take it easy for his own good.

If he was honest, Nurse Crowsnitch sort of had a point. It wasn’t exactly easy to breathe with his ribs bandaged tight beneath his gown, and his short excursions tired him out. He blamed it on having to lug around the heavy cast they’d put over his hand, but he was also ready to admit the small possibility that he might need some time to recover from the grievous wounds he’d sustained in the Delirium Trigger’s hold.

But Frey was not a man who could easily amuse himself, and recuperation was purgatory to him. There was only so long he could stare at brown and cream walls. Brown and cream: the colours of boredom. It was too much to take. And besides, making trouble was in his nature.

A click of heels, echoing down the corridor. He froze, listening. Crowsnitch! Had she outwitted him?

But the footsteps receded, heading away from him, and he relaxed. Not this time, lady, he thought, but he picked up his pace and hurried the rest of the way to his destination.

It was a tiny ward with four beds, all of them occupied. Mailey, the pretty young librarian with the broken leg, was the only one awake. She wiggled her fingers at him as he slipped in and closed the door carefully. He gave her a sheepish smile, tiptoed over to another bed and gingerly lowered himself into a nearby chair.

Trinica was in the bed, lying on her side, her head pillowed and facing him, her eyes closed. He checked that she was still breathing; he could never settle until he was sure. But yes, there was the slight rise of the blankets around her body, and there was the faint sigh of air over her lips. Her existence was still a miracle to him. He had to reassure himself with each visit that she was really there.

Her face was drawn and wan in sleep, and there were lines where there hadn’t been in his memory. She’d lost weight, and she’d never carried much to begin with. There was no make-up on her now. Her hair had been cut short to make the best of the hacked-up mess she’d arrived with. But she was here, and she was beautiful, and she was his.

She stirred, and her left hand moved and found the cast they’d put over his own shattered hand. On her finger was a ring, a simple silver ring he’d given her once, and which she’d once given back to him. Now she wore it again.

Her eyes opened and found his. Even after weeks, the sight of them was still a faint surprise. Gone was the green he knew. Her irises were now yellow as corn. At least one of the changes the daemon had wreaked in her had been permanent.

She smiled at him. ‘You again.’

‘What do you mean?’ he protested. ‘I’ve been here all night.’

‘Liar.’

‘Ask Mailey!’

‘It’s true,’ Mailey piped up. ‘Never left your side.’

Trinica chuckled weakly. ‘Quite a conspiracy you two have going.’

Frey reached into a drawer by the bed and brought out a book, its leather cover delicately embossed. ‘Ready for the next chapter?’

‘Yes, please!’ said Mailey, clapping her hands.

Frey and Trinica exchanged a glance, the kind of knowing, indulgent look shared by new lovers, for whom the whole world has become a delightful joke. He opened the book in his lap at the marked page. A mass of Samarlan characters stared back at him. He didn’t recognise a single one of them.

‘The Silent Tide,’ he announced. ‘Being the adventures of the brave and attractive Captain Frey and the slightly less brave and not quite so attractive Captain Trinica Dracken.’

‘Narcissism is such an endearing trait, Darian.’

‘Chapter Four,’ he said. He tilted his head as he studied the page. ‘You know, I think I like romances better when I don’t understand them.’

‘You’re actually holding it upside down.’

‘You want to hear this story or not?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she said. She settled down deeper into her pillow, and her eyes shone as she watched him. ‘I think I’m going to like the ending better this time around.’

They held the ceremony in the great hall of the Archduke’s palace, in the presence of all the dukes of Vardia. Beneath the vaulted ceilings and the great brass candelabras, under the stony gaze of leaders and thinkers and artists of ages past, the heroes of the civil war were honoured. Generals and aristocrats lined the pews, and the entire House of Chancellors was in attendance. The men were straight-backed in crisp jackets and starched collars; the ladies were resplendent in their finery. Trumpets sounded, bright flags lined the walls, and the Archduke himself handed out medals amid all the pomp a triumphant country could muster.

Really, it was all a bit much for Frey.

He stood at the back, in the gallery, overlooking the main floor. With him were dozens of other people who weren’t important or official enough to merit a seat. That included Trinica and, surprisingly, Samandra Bree. ‘Century Knights don’t get medals,’ was all she’d said when he asked.

Another group of soldiers were led on to the dais. The Archduke passed along the line, announcing each man’s name and pinning a medal on his chest. The ceremony had been going on for an hour now, and Frey was bored stupid. His clothes were too tight on him, and everything itched. He hated formal wear; he always felt he deserved to be laughed at when he was dressed up. Trinica told him it suited him, but he still wasn’t sure if she was making fun or not.

For her part, Trinica wore aristocratic guise as one who’d been born to it. In her long red dress, she was transformed. A silver necklace hung against her pale collarbones and she wore a small jewelled wristlet. Hard to imagine a woman so elegant had ever reaved the skies.

He leaned over to her. ‘You reckon this is gonna go on much longer?’

‘Days, I expect.’

Frey groaned. He scanned the crowd idly. He spotted Plome down among the Chancellors, clapping away enthusiastically, but it was telling that there was no sign of Amalicia Thade. Those aristocrats who’d sided with the Awakeners would be finding life considerably less easy from here on in.

Well, let her thrive or fail as she would. He didn’t bear her any ill will. He probably deserved what she did to him, so he counted them even.

He turned to Samandra. She cleaned up amazingly well for a foul-mouthed tomboy killing machine. In a black dress and long gloves, with her hair clipped back and falling down her back in waves, she was as unrecognisable as Trinica.

‘So give me the lowdown,’ he said. ‘What did I miss in hospital?’

Samandra, who was equally bored, leaned closer and kept her voice low. ‘Things have been pretty interesting round here lately,’ she said. ‘The Awakeners. . well. The Archduke can’t stop people believin’ what they like, but he can stop the Awakeners sellin’ it to ’em. All their assets, we got. No more shrines allowed, no more hermitages, no more Speakers, even out in the country. Kyne’s been headin’ up a task force to hunt down any Imperators left. Most of ’em suicided before he could get hold of ’em, but he grabbed one an’ neutralised it, then put it out on public show. Let the people know the truth of it, sort of thing. That convinced a lot o’ folk.’

‘You think they’re gone for good?’

She shrugged. ‘Can’t say. There’s always gonna be some underground stuff, but the Awakeners have always been aggressive self-promoters. Now they can’t do that. Reckon we’ll see how much their ideas are worth when they can’t shove ’em down anyone’s throat any more.’ She picked something off the back of her neck and flicked it away, which didn’t seem very ladylike considering her outfit. ‘They say the diehards are headin’ for the colonies, shippin’ out for New Vardia before the Storm Belt gets impassable. Good luck to ’em, I say. Long as they ain’t here.’

Frey gave a grunt of agreement. ‘What about the Sammies?’

‘That’s a whole other can o’ worms. They invaded us, even if they fudged it. People were sayin’ we should invade ’em right back, now their navy’s gone. Seemed to forget we don’t have much more than a scrap of a navy left ourselves. Politicians came up with some plans: we were gonna use mercs to embargo the Free Trade Zone properly, crack down hard on aerium smuggling, make damn sure those Sammie bastards never got a drop from us again. But then guess who waded in?’

Frey had already heard the rumour. ‘Thace.’

‘Uh-huh. Reckon they got tired of waitin’ for Samarla to get round to invading them and decided to do it first. They got the only fleet in town now, and they know them Sammies are just gonna tool up and do it again if they ain’t stamped on hard. Lucky they’re on our side.’

‘Samarla and Thace are really at war, then?’

‘Oh, yeah. Don’t know that anyone can take a land as big as Samarla, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they took a damn good chunk of it. Still, good news for your mate Silo.’

‘How so?’

‘You know Thacians. Life, liberty, equality, all o’ that. Think they’ll stand for slavery in their territories? Might be we get to see the first free Murthian population in five hundred years. Not to mention the Daks, though they way they act I wonder if they like bein’ slaves.’

‘Damn,’ said Frey in amazement. ‘That’s quite a thing.’

‘See what you set off?’ she said, nudging him. ‘Not bad for a bunch of reprobates with a galaxy of personality disorders.’

‘Aren’t you dating one of those reprobates?’

She snorted. ‘Someone has to keep you classy.’

Frey barked a laugh, and somebody shushed him. Then Trinica touched his arm and pointed down at the dais. ‘There they are!’ she said.

And there they were, taking their places before the Archduke. Malvery, Crake, Harkins and Pinn, and finally Silo. They stood there stiffly, all shiny buttons and dazzling shoes, hair and beards combed and cut — those who had them. Even Frey had to admit, they didn’t look half bad.

Archduke Monterick approached Malvery first. ‘For extraordinary bravery in the service of your fellow soldiers,’ he said. ‘For your vital part in bringing Vardia information about the enemy, and thereby saving uncountable lives; Althazar Malvery, I present you with the Legion of Vardia medal, to go with your Duke’s Cross. Your country counts you as one of its most treasured sons.’

And I owe you my life, thought Frey. And more importantly, I owe you hers. Damn if you’re not the best surgeon in Vardia, old mate.

Applause filled the hall as the Archduke pinned the medal next to the one Malvery already had. The doctor kept his face as composed as he could, but even at this distance Frey could see Malvery glowing so fiercely with pride that you could have roasted a chicken on him.

‘Grayther Crake!’ said the Archduke, moving along the line. ‘Few men have pushed the boundaries of our knowledge with such dedication and at such terrible risk to themselves. Your research and sacrifice were crucial in bringing the Imperators to heel, and for that, I award you the Ducal Star, for your magnificent contribution to science.’

‘I notice he never quite said daemonism,’ Trinica muttered.

‘That’ll come in time,’ said Samandra. ‘Can’t change people’s minds overnight, but I reckon it ain’t gonna be long before daemonism ain’t such a dirty word no more.’

‘Jandrew Harkins!’ the Archduke continued. ‘For outstanding bravery in the air, I present you with the Coalition Navy’s highest honour, the Iron Wing!’

The gallery applauded with gusto. Frey whistled through his fingers until Trinica hit him.

‘Artis Pinn!’ said the Archduke. ‘For a selfless act of espionage, for infiltrating the Awakener ranks at great personal risk in order to return with critically important intelligence, the People’s Medal!’

‘How in rot’s name did he swing that?’ Samandra murmured.

‘Pinn just won a medal for intelligence,’ Frey said, shaking his head as he clapped. ‘I don’t want to live on this planet any more.’

Then the Archduke moved to stand before Silo. There was a short pause as the Archduke regarded him, and seemed deep in thought.

‘Wait for it,’ said Frey. ‘This’ll be a treat.’

‘Silopethkai Auramaktama Faillinana!’ the Archduke boomed.

Frey’s jaw dropped. ‘I’ll be damned. That feller’s good!’

‘Your leadership in battle is an inspiration to all Vards,’ the Archduke said. ‘When all seemed lost, you gave us strength. Never before has a Vardic duke or monarch awarded a medal to a Murthian, but I do so today. You have shown us that courage knows no race nor borders. I give you the Duke’s Cross, in recognition of your gallantry!’

The riot of applause that followed shook the doors of the hall. Chancellor Plome was the first in the pews to stand, and with him went the House of Chancellors, and then everyone was on their feet, and cheers swelled up like a tide and roared through the chamber. The men of the Ketty Jay couldn’t keep their composure, and broke out in great beaming smiles. Frey clapped until his hands were sore, and by the time they began walking down off the dais, he was all but exhausted.

‘You’re not sad you didn’t get one?’ Trinica asked him.

Frey blew out his lips. ‘What would I do with a medal? I’m surprised that lot got one, to be honest. After what happened with Earl Hengar, I mean. Pretty gracious of him, I’d say.’

‘Reckon too many people heard about what you fellers did,’ said Samandra. ‘He sorta had to. But with regards to Hengar, they were just followin’ orders. You were givin’ ’em. It’d be a bit much for him to take, honourin’ you.’

‘Pity Ashua couldn’t be here, though. She’d have liked to see the doc get his.’

‘That’d also be a bit much,’ said Samandra. ‘Traitor to the country, whether she meant it or not. She can count herself lucky she got a pardon.’

‘Yeah,’ said Frey, with a meaningful glance at the woman next to him. ‘Not like that evil pirate Trinica Dracken.’

Samandra just looked ahead. ‘Far as I know, she died on the Delirium Trigger, just like her bosun. Funny that your new lady looks a bit like her without the make-up, though. What are the chances?’

‘It is remarkable, isn’t it?’ Trinica agreed.

They heard a shriek from the hall. Frey looked down and saw a stocky young blonde woman in peasant dress struggling with the guards. Suddenly she broke free and ran up the aisle towards the side of the dais, where the crew of the Ketty Jay had descended. Before anyone could stop her, she ran up to Pinn, seized him by his chubby cheeks and planted an enormous kiss on his lips.

‘Oh, sweet rot and damnation,’ Samandra said in horror, a hand over her mouth. ‘What am I seeing here? Is someone actually kissing Pinn?’

Then the woman broke away from him, and Frey got a look at her. Yes, he knew that placid, bovine country face. He’d seen her ferrotype a hundred times, forced on him by Pinn whenever he was in his cups. It just didn’t seem possible.

‘Lisinda!’ cried Pinn.

‘I think. . er. . I think that’s his sweetheart,’ said Frey. ‘Like, the original one.’

‘Didn’t he abandon her five years ago or something?’ Trinica asked.

‘Yeah,’ said Frey. ‘Well, I mean, he left her a note saying he’d be back when he was famous and rich or something, but we all thought. . Well. .’ Frey just stared. ‘Do you think she really just. . I mean, she actually waited for him? For him?’ He threw up his hands. ‘I dunno. I give up.’

There was a brief debacle as Lisinda was dragged away by the guards, with Pinn still attached to her, noisily trying to slurp at her face. After that, the ceremony resumed, and Frey got restless again.

‘What happens next?’ he asked Samandra.

‘Next? Oh, there’s a drinks reception in the palace with the great and good. Dukes and duchesses waitin’ to congratulate you, Chancellors shakin’ hands, the Press takin’ your picture, wine, lobsters, all o’ that.’

‘Ah,’ said Frey. He shuffled his feet, looked from one lady to the other, scratched his cheek. ‘You wanna just round everyone up, find a bar and get slaughtered?’

‘I’m in,’ said Trinica immediately.

‘Thought you’d never say it,’ Samandra added, already on her way out the door.

Malvery roared with laughter and crashed his mug of ale so hard against Samandra’s that he showered everyone in the booth.

‘And that’s for the Century bloody Knights! Legends, the lot o’ you!’

‘Adrek! Keep ’em coming!’ Samandra hollered.

Adrek, barman and proprietor of The Wayfarers tavern, was already on his way with another tray. ‘Steady now!’ he said, as he put down their drinks.

‘Ah, come on, Adrek!’ Samandra cried. ‘How many times you get this many heroes in your bar all at once? Look at all them medals!’

‘You hear that?’ Pinn asked Lisinda, who was nestled inside his arm. ‘Heroes!’

There was another cheer, and they swept up their drinks from the tray and crashed them together, wasting half the round immediately.

Arkin chuckled. Despite having a Century Knight as a regular patron, the barman seemed rather star-struck. Or maybe it was just that he was relieved his establishment was still standing, and was prepared to indulge those he held responsible for saving it. Either way, he was in a good mood, and the drinks were on him tonight.

The Wayfarers was Samandra’s drinking hole, a place that managed to be simultaneously large and cramped, with walls panelled in dark wood and many niches and secluded booths. Fires kept the winter chill away, and yellow light glittered on rippled green glass in the partitions. They’d changed from formal wear into clothes more suited to the occasion, but those who had medals still wore them anyway, pinned to coats and shirts. They’d earned them, and they were damned well going to show them off.

They toasted the Coalition, and themselves, and then gave a more solemn toast to absent friends and absent pets. They told each other stories of their adventures as if they hadn’t all been there, and fell about at the punchlines. They even half-listened as Pinn extolled the virtues of his sweetheart, pointing out her flawless skin, her depthless eyes, her bountiful bosom. She giggled and hiccupped and seemed not the slightest bit embarrassed by it all.

‘Well, of course I waited for him!’ she told them. ‘He went off to find fame and fortune, all to be worthy of me! So romantic! But when the broadsheets put up the list of who was going to get a medal, and I saw his name there, well. . I had to see! So I thought I’d surprise him!’

‘And you know what else?’ Pinn cried incredulously. ‘You know that letter I got from her ages ago, the one that said she was married? Well, it wasn’t even from her! She was never even married!’

Frey looked at Malvery. ‘Fancy,’ he said, deadpan. Malvery coughed into his fist and concentrated very hard on his pint.

They drank and they laughed until Frey thought he’d burst with joy. To be here now, with his friends and with Trinica by his side — it was more than he could ever have hoped for. There was Ashua, her eyes bright; there was Crake, cracking a joke. Malvery guffawed and Pinn japed. Even Harkins and Silo were having fun. And though Jez wasn’t with them, he imagined her out there somewhere, with her people, and he wondered if she might be happier than they could ever have made her.

Balomon Crund wasn’t with them. He’d signed on with the first freebooter crew out of Thesk. It was enough for him that Trinica was safe; he couldn’t bear seeing her in anyone else’s arms. That wasn’t what she was to him. But Frey raised a mug to the scarred bosun anyway, and the rest did too. Without him, none of them would have been here.

For a time, it was if they floated in a sphere of perfect contentment, and everything outside was fuzzy and unimportant. And then Crake said:

‘So what are you all going to do now, then?’

His words brought them back to earth. The spectre of the future cut into the moment, the carefree atmosphere was gone, and they became serious. This drunken celebration wouldn’t last for ever. At least some of the crew of the Ketty Jay would be departing. An era was at an end.

They all knew about Crake. He’d declared that he was staying in Thesk, to study daemonism under Morben Kyne, and to be with Samandra. He’d evolved his field daemonism method while on the crew of the Ketty Jay, but now he believed he’d reached the limit of what he could do with a makeshift sanctum. The chance to learn from Kyne was too good to pass up.

Plus, there was the question of Bess, and Thesk was a better environment for her than the Ketty Jay. There was even talk of having her socialise with the other golems of the Archduke’s army. She’d taken to hanging around them whenever she could, and they seemed to accept her.

‘The daemons in the golems talk to each other, and to her,’ Crake had told them. ‘I think she might actually be able to make friends with them, in some way.’

So the question of Crake was settled. Now Frey looked around the faces of the people at the booth to see who else had outgrown him and his aircraft.

‘The, er, the Navy wants to take me back,’ said Harkins. ‘Turns out I’m one of the most experienced pilots they’ve got, now. Might be I’ll be an instructor.’ He looked downcast. ‘Sorry, Cap’n. I think I want that. Think I work better with rules and discipline, and the Ketty Jay. .’

‘Yeah,’ said Frey, with a rueful grin. ‘We don’t have much of either.’

The others laughed uneasily. But Frey put a hand across the table. ‘I’ll be sorry to see you go, Harkins. You can keep the Firecrow, if you want. Won’t be much good to me, and you thrashed it so hard I can’t even sell it anyhow.’

‘Thanks for understanding, Cap’n,’ said Harkins, and he shook Frey by his good hand.

‘I’m going back home with Lisinda!’ Pinn declared loudly, oblivious to the sombre mood. ‘Done my stuff! I’m a bona fide hero! Reckon it’s time to settle down with a good woman.’ He looked into Lisinda’s adoring eyes. ‘Maybe even raise a couple of kids.’

Malvery spluttered into his mug of ale and covered his face in froth.

Crake, Pinn, Harkins. ‘How about the rest of you?’ Frey asked. He felt Trinica take his hand under the table. He didn’t know what he wanted them to say. He didn’t know what he wanted to do. His whole life had been a game of Rake, with steadily ascending stakes; he’d never thought about what would happen after he won.

Malvery spoke up first. ‘Well, that sorta depends on you, Cap’n.’ He inclined his head towards Trinica. ‘Seems like your circumstances changed more than most. There’s your lady; you got her. So what are you gonna do?’

Frey looked at Trinica, seeking a reaction. She put her hands up in the air. ‘Oh, no! Don’t put this on me! You make your own choice, Darian, and I’ll go where you go. I’m homeless and don’t have a ducat to my name; the Coalition seized all my assets, remember?’

‘That’s kinda fair, considering where you got ’em,’ said Samandra. ‘Consider it the price for us forgettin’ Trinica Dracken ever existed.’

‘See?’ said Trinica to Frey. ‘I don’t exist.’ But the wink she gave him suggested that the Coalition hadn’t quite found all of her rainy day money.

Frey sat back, puffed out his cheeks and ran a hand through his hair. So, the decision was all his? But he didn’t want to make it on his own. It wasn’t just about him any more. It was about everyone.

‘Well, I still got the Ketty Jay,’ he said, with a shrug. ‘You fellers even want to tag along any more? Doc, weren’t you thinking of opening up a practice in Thesk or something?’

‘Cap’n,’ said Malvery. ‘More people get shot around you per hour than any other location in Vardia. Reckon I’m more use by your side than anywhere else. Besides, someone’s got to keep an eye on you.’

‘And someone’s got to keep an eye on you!’ Ashua said.

‘Someone gotta keep an eye on all o’ you,’ said Silo. ‘I’m with you, Cap’n. Medal or no medal, I ain’t got no other place I belong more ’n’ on that aircraft.’

Frey began to get excited. Malvery, Ashua, Silo, himself. . and Trinica. Well, that was pretty much a crew, wasn’t it? ‘So what are we gonna do?’ he asked them. ‘Where are we gonna go?’

‘Who cares?’ said Malvery. ‘Let’s go hunt down Peleshar, that island that disappeared! Your mad mate Ugrik said he had a plan to find it, didn’t he?’

‘New Vardia!’ Ashua said. ‘I always fancied the frontier!’

‘Since when?’ Malvery asked.

‘Since thirty seconds ago. Damn, we’ll go join Red Arcus and be rebels!’

‘You’re just pissed ’cause you didn’t get a medal,’ said Pinn, waggling his medal at her.

‘Alright then, let’s go to Samarla!’ Ashua said, laughing. ‘Give the Thacians a hand, see if we can’t help out some of Silo’s folk.’

‘Hey, hey, hey!’ said Crake, holding up his hands for silence. ‘Can I throw a wild idea in here? Don’t any of you want to, you know, take it easy for a while? Do some honest trading, maybe? Go on holiday?’

They all looked at one another across the table. Then a grin spread across Crake’s face, and Malvery roared with laughter and clashed his mug against Crake’s. Suddenly they were all shouting over each other, boasting, joking, making plans and dreaming possibilities. Frey sat back and slid his arm around Trinica; she leaned into him, and he knew everything was alright, that the future was theirs for the taking.

Everything he’d always dreaded had come upon him: responsibility, commitment, the weight of expectations. And yet here he was with the woman he loved at his side and the world at his feet. He was freer than he’d ever felt. He could go anywhere, do anything, be anyone. And he’d never been happier than now.

‘You think we can do it?’ he said to her quietly, as the rest of them argued and hollered and jostled. ‘You and me? You think we can ever forget what we did to each other, make it how it was, begin again?’

She took his face in her hands and kissed him. His friends whooped and cheered like louts. And when she let him go, she looked deeply into his eyes, and there on her lips was a little heartbreaking smile of hope.

‘Yes, Darian,’ she said. ‘Let’s begin again.’