Miro's message was simple. He felt that he was repeating himself again and again, yet if he kept trying the words would get through. The situation they were all in was the inevitable result of the war. What had been done was in the past. The oppressed people of Aynar and Tingara deserved as much of a chance as the war-torn multitudes of Halaran and Petrya. The machines would be rebuilt, and when essence again flowed through the Empire, prosperity would return.
Amber said she understood Miro's pressures, but Miro wanted to give her more. As he watched her she laughed at something Tomas said, the sound girlish and free. But she was no longer a girl; Amber was a woman, and she'd been through more than any person should go through. Miro was constantly amazed at her resilience; even now when people met her they saw her beauty and warmth without realising the trials she'd been through, the strength she carried within.
"You really are somewhere else today, aren't you?" Amber said. She took his hand. "Are you coming?"
Miro realised they had made it down to the river. Tomas chased butterflies, his fluffy brown hair, only a little darker than Amber's auburn, catching leaves and twigs. "Sorry." Miro grinned shakily. "Let's head down to the water, shall we?"
"Sounds good to me," Amber said.
Amber kept hold of Miro's hand while they walked, but he could see her expression was a little puzzled. Miro's other hand felt down to the back pocket of his trousers, patting the little bulge there comfortingly.
The pair reached the water, where grassy banks led down to the plunging peaks and troughs of a turbulent river.
"Ella said she tried to swim across," Amber said. She shuddered. "She could have been killed."
Miro took a deep breath. There was a sudden roaring in his ears, his heart beating so hard he thought it would burst out of his chest. The feeling was completely foreign to him; this wasn't the fear of the battlefield, with instant decisions leading to life or death; this was something altogether different. He clutched at the ring in his pocket.
"Amber… I…"
"Tomas!" Amber screamed. She put her hands to her face in horror. "Get down from there!"
Miro turned, and saw a tall rock poking its head from a grove of trees. The rock leaned out over the water.
Tomas stood on the summit of the rock, waving a hand at them, completely unaware of the danger. If he took another step, and fell into the river, he would drown.
Even as he was moving, Miro cursed himself for becoming so distracted he'd jeopardised his son's safety. His muscles freed by action, he ran at the grove and ignored the cuts to his arms as he pushed through the trees, losing sight of Tomas as he thrust his way through the grove, desperately looking for the rock. He finally saw the grey of stone through the branches, and leapt forward. Miro stopped in his tracks.
A small woman with ruddy features sat just below the summit of the rock, the child in her arms. She wore the garb of a Dunfolk healer, with a soft mantle of precious fur on her shoulders. Tomas was giggling as she tickled him. Neither of them seemed troubled in the slightest by their precarious position.
"What are you doing here?" Miro demanded. "Did you follow us?"
"I came to watch," Layla said. "Have you asked her yet?"
"Layla," Miro said, shuffling and clambering up the rock to sit beside the Dunfolk healer as the water roared below. "This is a private moment between Amber and I…"
"Oh, I see." Layla pretended to ponder. "Should I have let him fall, then?"
"No, no, I'm sorry. Thank you. I'm just nervous."
"You've fallen over twice. I've been watching. You're clumsy today," Layla said.
"Thanks," Miro said wryly. "Can you at least stay out of sight?"
Layla snorted. "You couldn't find me if I was right in front of you. I will stay out of sight, but I'm going to keep an eye on your son. You're fortunate the Eternal brought me here."
Calmly and confidently, Layla took Tomas from the peak down to the base of the rock. As Layla looked up expectantly, Miro stood, wobbling as his feet sought purchase on the jagged surface, suddenly terribly aware of the drop.
As the reflexes that had seen Miro survive countless battles deserted him, Miro slipped, tripping backwards.
Miro's last sight was Layla regarding him with an expression of astonishment as he fell. He tumbled through the air, hitting the water on his back with a mighty splash.
The fall took the breath out of his lungs, and he coughed and gulped at the water as he went under. Miro's head popped above the surface and he grabbed a hasty breath before the plunging waves pulled him back down. He felt the water filling his boots and soaking his clothes, adding to the weight that threatened to drag him to the bottom.
The next time his head came up, he pulled at the water with his arms. Miro kicked out with his legs; fortunately he was close to shore, and his foot found purchase on a rock below the surface. He thrust with his foot while simultaneously paddling with his arms. The current almost took him, but both feet found purchase and then he felt a hand take his wrist as he was pulled out of the water.
Finally, Miro flopped onto the bank, thanking Amber with his eyes as she let go of him. Rolling and coughing, he finally spluttered river water onto the ground. He pulled himself up further onto the bank, heedless of the mud, and lay dazed.