Vell stood once Sonder had finished wrapping the last of the linen around him.
The bandages wrapped around his ribs, shoulders, and most of his upper body. Some trailed down his legs, and even part of his face was hidden beneath the linen.
He looked like a mummy.
Without giving any thought to his appearance, he told Sonder they should return to the others.
They walked together through the hallways.
When they arrived, Vell did not wait for the questions to begin. He did not pause for anyone to press him for suggestions of what to do. Instead, he led the group to a more comfortable section of the library.
Warmer than the rest of the place. Not exactly welcoming, but softer somehow. There were armchairs and sofas scattered around, along with a few long tables. None of the furniture matched.
It had been collected over many years and came from many different places.
There were not enough seats for everyone.
There were never meant to be this many people here. Perhaps there were never meant to be any at all.
Still, they filed in quietly.
Sonder saw a shimmer of familiar light near one of the tables.
Hiraeth stood there, barely as tall as the open book propped beside him.
His brows furrowed when he saw Sonder and then Vell, his eyes darting across the layers of linen and the wounds still visible between them.
"What happened?" he asked. It was a simple question. He did not ask why the strangers were here or what had gone wrong. Just that.
"I'll explain it all later," Vell replied.
Hiraeth studied him for a long moment, searching his face; the red glow in his eyes, the wear in his stance.
The sprite's light dimmed slightly.
"All right," he said. "Later."
The guests, now gathered loosely in this reading hall, looked at one another, murmured, and sat when they could.
"We cannot stay here forever," someone said. "What happens now?"
"If he brought us here, can he send us back?" another added, glancing at Vell. "We will be missed. People will think us dead. We have messages to deliver. Warnings."
A young woman said, "My sister was next to me when the light in the funeral came." She is not here."
That was all she said. It was enough.
The Lord Chancellor stood close by, hands folded behind his back. His bearing was composed again, but his gaze had shifted to the Kalandir.
They stood motionless, as if carved from stone. Their posture was perfect, but their faces were blank. Their eyes were distant.
"They are waiting," the Chancellor thought. "Waiting for instruction. For leadership. But the queen is gone. The court is broken. No chain of instruction. Without those, we simply stop. Eons of habit turned to paralysis."
And then, one by one, they turned their eyes to the mummy that was Vell.
He could feel their eyes, but he didn't answer; instead, his head turned towards Sonder, who was at his side.
"What do you think?" he asked her.
His tone was unreadable. He could have been asking a question about weather or war.
Sonder looked back at him, unsure what the question was supposed to mean.
Sonder hesitated, uncertain of what he really meant. But he was still watching her. Just waiting.
"I think," she said slowly, "that if you can help, even a little… you probably should."
Vell was quiet.
Then the red in his eyes brightened just a little. Like coals being stirred.
"All right," he said.