Daivad instructed Maxea to give the women a ride back to Urden or, if they refused the ride, to follow them until they were safely out of the forest. Then, Daivad set about cleaning up the clearing. He piled the tables and chairs that weren’t broken onto one of the lifts and carried each of them back to the landing outside the kitchen over several trips. The broken ones he dumped in the woodpile. Luckily, they didn't have many breakable cups or dishes, so he didn't have to spend too much time picking up the shards of glass bottles and clay bowls.

Occasionally, a guard or Ben would pass by and offer to assist, but he dismissed all of them.

It took him a while to get all of the lanterns out of the air—the runes Tobei had scratched onto their bases that kept them floating had yet to wear off. Eventually, he resorted to grabbing a stick and swatting them down, which resulted in more glass for him to pick up, but he didn’t care. He just needed all evidence of this, of her, to be gone from this fucking camp before the sun came up.

Next, he used Metalwork to rip the nails from the stage so he could break it down and pile the boards onto the lift as well. They could be reused, he supposed, so he carried them to an area of camp that was under construction.

He tore down the vines Ben had strung around the clearing and carried them off to the woodpile too. Then he went all the way up to the gardens to get a rake to use to gather up the fallen petals, but it was no use. The tines of the rake were too far apart and the petals just slipped right through. For some reason, he kept trying, as if eventually the rake would start doing its job despite the fact that the longer he tried, the more frustrated he got, until finally Daivad reached his boiling point and whirled to smash the rake into the nearest tree, snapping the rake in half.

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He threw the handle down, entirely unsatisfied. He was drenched in sweat, exhausted, the sun was nearly up, and after working on this literally all night, there was only this last step left to do and he couldn’t fucking get it done.

He stared at the clearing, covered in flower petals, except for the one patch of earth that Nyxabella had turned to hide the beast’s blood. He would not look at this every day until the petals were finally scattered. So Daivad sank his magic into the edge of the clearing and shoved. A wave rippled across the clearing like it was water, churning earth and chewing up grass, petals, and whatever else might have been hiding among the weeds.

Finally, he was done. He examined the clearing of turned earth and finally, he could breathe.

Back home, instead of splashing the water in his basin on his face, he just dumped the whole thing onto his head. The rune in the side of the basin kept the water cold and fresh, so a shock went through his system as it rained over him. When he opened his eyes, the world felt fresh, too.

Now, he thought, he could forget all of this.

Daivad swiped a cloth over his face, shed his pants, and fell into bed as dawn broke outside his window. But the moment he settled, let his guard down, he heard her voice echoing up from some corner of his mind.

Think again, asshole.