by Sharon Shinn
Luck was with her. Both Cammon and Justin were sitting on the ground outside the gate, half asleep in the warm noon sun. The raelynx rested on the other side of the grille, its pointed nose on its paws, its tufted tail twitching with remembered wildness.
All three of them woke when she was twenty yards away. The men came to their feet, but the raelynx merely yawned and returned to its nap.
“Finally. I found you. Now I’m saying good-bye,” Kirra said when she was near enough. “See you again soon enough, I’m sure.”
She made as if to spin and walk away, but Justin caught her arm and Cammon was calling, “Wait, wait, wait!”
She laughed and turned back. “Only joking,” she said. “That wasn’t a real farewell.”
Justin dropped her arm, but Cammon came closer, peering at her with his strange, flecked eyes. “Are you better this morning?” he asked quietly. “Last night you—” He shook his head.
“Yes. Better. But not—” She searched for a word. “Well.” It was insufficient but she couldn’t think of how to phrase it. “I need to go. Thank you for—thank you both. For caring. That almost makes it possible to bear everything.”
“You’re going back to Danalustrous?” Cammon asked.
She nodded. “Now. This minute.”
“We’ll come with you,” Justin said. “Give us an hour to pack.”
Really, it was enough to make you think you were too frail to cross half a continent on your own. “No,” she said. “But thank you. I’m used to traveling by myself.”
Justin was stubborn. “You’re used to having Donnal with you.”
Well, that was an unnecessary stab to the heart. She talked around the sudden sharp pain. “This time I don’t. I’ll have to get used to traveling without him. I’ve managed just fine since we parted on the road to Rappengrass.”
Cammon’s eyes widened. “Donnal didn’t leave you on the road to Rappengrass,” he said.
Kirra and Justin both looked at him.
“He didn’t! Well, he did, for a day, but he joined the caravan before we made Rappen Manor. He was there the whole time.”
Kirra felt as if the muscles of her face had grown too slack to hold her jaw in place. “He was—Donnal’s been with us—”
Cammon nodded vigorously. “Hawk shape, most of the time. Owl, eagle. Wolf once in a while, but mostly birds.”
“In Rappengrass?” she said faintly.
He nodded again. “And on the whole trip back to Ghosenhall. I haven’t seen him today, but I know he’s still here. He wouldn’t leave you. I don’t think he can.”
Justin was actually smiling. “Well, then. You can go back to Danalustrous by yourself. I’ll agree to it.”
Kirra could feel herself crying again, nothing like last night’s wracking sobs, but stupid, mindless tears that seemed mixed of equal parts joy and hope and rue. He has not left me. Donnal has not left me. How could he love her still, how could he forgive her? What did she have to offer him when she was not sure she would ever be whole enough to love again? And nothing had changed between them—they were still serf and serramarra, titled lady and peasant’s son. But he was her shadow and mirror; he defined her, he gave her back her image of herself. She could not be complete without him no matter what course her life took, whatever form she held.
She gripped Cammon’s shoulders and shook him, still crying, starting to laugh. “Why didn’t you tell me, you wretched boy?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me Donnal had not left?”
“I thought you knew! You never said!”
She groaned, clutched him tighter in a quick embrace, and released him. “I will never understand the way you think.”
She turned for Justin, but Cammon grabbed her sleeve. “You’re coming back, aren’t you? Soon?”
“Sometime,” she said. “I don’t know when.”
“Don’t be gone too long.”
She kissed his cheek. “I won’t.”
Justin caught her in a bear hug before she could think if she would shake his hand or kiss him on the cheek or merely speak a farewell. “We’ll come after you if you don’t return,” he growled in her ear. “Don’t be gone too long.”
“I won’t,” she said. “Watch out for everyone while I’m away.”
She pulled free and gave them both a blissful smile. She felt herself glowing. That was happiness, or perhaps euphoria, or at least an understandable reaction to the thought that this time what she’d learned wasn’t bad news. She extended her arms, her fingers gathering into neat points, and tilted her head skyward, closing her eyes. Sunlight played along her cheekbones, her throat, laid a golden weight on her outstretched hands. She felt her whole body contract in response, grow smaller, lighter, elegant and deadly. She was a creature of wings and talons and swiftness and hunger. Eager to fly away.
She opened her eyes and made one sharp, gruff good-bye to the men standing there, earthbound and a little sad. But she was not sad at all. She beat her wings mightily against the heavy air and lifted herself aloft, weightless, windblown, a bauble of feathers and heat. It felt good to drift in one lazy circle above this cloistered compound of men, feel a surge of affection for everything, everyone she left behind, while feeling no compulsion whatsoever to stay. She flapped her wings to gain altitude, canted her body to change direction, and set her beak directly into the wind blowing gently from the west.
She had not traveled more than a minute when a shadow crossed her from above, then dropped to her level, settling in on her left just a wingspan away. She did not cry out a hoarse welcome, did not even glance over in his direction, but she knew he was there, silent and familiar, knew he would accompany her for every mile of her flight. The morning passed and the afternoon fell away from them and evening stretched up to meet them as they flew without stopping, straight on for Danalustrous.
