But something more immediate tickled her mind.
“Gwyn, are you okay?” She squeezed the woman’s fingers. “Today, Bria pushed me into coming over here as if she were afraid that you didn’t have long left, that it was important that I not delay talking to you any longer.”
The other woman settled onto the lip of the well beside her, their hips touching, their hands still clasped. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
Grief filled her throat, and she answered in a croak. “I don’t know if there’s anything to forgive. I know how persuasive Old Cat Eyes can be. He convinced me I could escape from enchanted shackles”—a shudder ran through her as she remembered the metal cuffs that moved and changed size whenever she transformed, the scars still on her arms—“and I did, although I’m still not sure how. It all seems like a dream itself now. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you, with him in your head every night, seeing my … my death. Maybe it was good you didn’t know me well yet.” She coughed. Her eyes were hot, but she managed to finish. “Yes, I forgive you. And I hope you can forgive me for waiting so long to talk to you. I’ve missed you so much.” And with that, she slid her arms around Gwyn. The familiar feel of the woman’s embrace finally tamed the hollow ache in her stomach that had persisted for months.
“Of course. I missed you too, you stubborn girl.” Gwyn’s own voice held so many emotions that Mariah couldn’t filter through them all. After a few moments, she ruffled Mariah’s hair before she leaned back. “But there is something I’ve wanted to tell you, something important. I know why Bria was trying to get you over here so fast, but it can wait until after lunch. Don’t fret. I’m not dying or anything.” A sudden grin appeared on her face. “Do you still like rabbit?”
Mariah returned the smile. “Do I still like rabbit? I barely made it past the fire without helping myself, whatever I’d come here to do.”
And with that, the two women, still family but now friends again as well, rose and went into the house to eat.
* * *
A plate of bones and wilted greens sat before Mariah, and she dropped her napkin onto her lap, staring across the small, round table at Gwyn and Wakely. The couple’s hands were intertwined atop the table between their empty plates. They had both eaten their greens.
“You’re what?!”
The line between Gwyn’s brows deepened. “I know you heard me.”
“But you’re …” Her head swung back and forth between them. She didn’t finish her sentence because she knew Gwyn would likely slap her if she did.
Instead, her mentor finished it for her. “You mean we’re old?” Gwyn tossed her own napkin down and stood up. Mariah shrank back, wondering if she was going to get the slap anyway. “What does being old have to do with love, with companionship?” She seemed a little embarrassed by saying it, and that threw Mariah off. Gwyn was never embarrassed.
“I didn’t mean it that way. I just thought if you were going to … get married … you would have … I don’t know. I guess I thought that you had decided never to get married or something. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She caught Wakely grinning at the two of them, obviously amused by their awkward encounter. Mariah rolled her eyes at the man before clearing her throat and finally saying what she should have said to begin with. “Congratulations, Gwyn … Wakely. I’m very happy for you.” The words felt stilted coming out of her mouth, but she managed. A string of questions ran through her mind, but none of them felt appropriate at the moment.
Fortunately, Gwyn spoke first, sounding just as stiff. “Thank you, girl. There’s something else …”
Mariah didn’t know just how many somethings else she could take at the moment, but she answered dutifully. “Yes?”
Gwyn pulled her chair around next to Mariah’s and sat, taking her hand. “I know you don’t really need it right now, but after the wedding, I want you to have this house. For when you come to Wellspring. Gods know Bria’s house is full to bursting these days. And who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll have your own children to raise here. Surely, you wouldn’t want to raise them in that volcano?”
“What? I don’t … No …” she spluttered. My own children? “I mean, um, thank you?” Having her own children was a thought she could honestly say had never occurred to her, and it would probably have her reeling for days, but before she could obsess on it, the thought latched onto another thread in her mind and began to pull her down a new path, or rather, the one that had been occupying much of her subconscious. It took an effort of pure will to meet Gwyn’s eyes and continue their conversation. “Yes, thank you, although don’t count on me ever having children.” She shook the thought out of her head. “I take it that you’re moving to the market house then?”
“No, actually. Wakely has another house, between here and Kathe Teigh. It’s where he does most of his work. It’s bigger, and there’s a garden and plenty of free space for me to run.” Images of Gwyn as a hunting cat running through the fields and chasing birds pulled the corners of Mariah’s lips up as the woman continued. “It’s not too far, don’t worry. And you’ll always be welcome there, just like you are here.”
Wakely affirmed her welcome with a nod.
“It sounds wonderful.” It couldn’t be that much further, especially on the wing. “I can’t wait to see it. So, when is the ceremony?”
Gwyn looked at her … her betrothed, who was now grinning ear to ear and trying to hide it by brushing at his white beard with his napkin. He was failing miserably, but his grin was contagious, and Mariah smiled back.
“The date is probably why Bria had you rushing over here before you went back to Firebend,” Gwyn said. “We are planning on having the ceremony in two days at the country house. A Keeper from the temple in Kathe Teigh has agreed to come and perform the rites. They normally don’t leave their temples, you know, so we consider it a special privilege.”
Mariah barely heard the last bit. She pushed back in her chair, scraping its feet along the stone beneath. “In two days? Really?”
“We’ve been planning the wedding since before you returned. I guess my little scrape with mortality made me realize that I needed to take advantage of every moment I have left. We tried to wait for you. You’re my family, you know that. But your stubbornness seemed to know no end … So, we decided to go ahead. I guess it turns out it’s exactly what we needed to do all along.”
Mariah’s jaw hung open for a couple of seconds before she snapped it shut, her mind overwhelmed by everything she’d learned since walking through the front door such a short time ago. Gwyn had been going to get married without her? “I’m happy for you, of course,” she said squeezing the other woman’s hand. “I think I just need a few minutes.”
“Of course,” Gwyn replied, hugging Mariah one more time. “Take all the time you need, at least until the ceremony.” Lowering her voice, she whispered in Mariah’s ear, “I’m so glad that you’ve come back to me. I don’t know if I could’ve done it without you.”
Mariah squeezed back and held on for a few more moments before pulling away. “I think I’d better head back over to the farm. Xae was expected back from Eiocliff this morning. I want to see if he’s returned and make sure the girls are settling into their new home.”
“Will you come back for dinner? Wakely has some things to see to at the shop, and I’d love to … talk more, just the two of us … catch up. Your bed is still waiting for you.” Mariah saw her own feelings reflected in Gwyn’s eyes, the reluctance to let go, even for just a little while, now that they had reconnected.
“That would be wonderful.” And with that, she nodded to them both and headed for Bria’s.
Chapter Three
News from Grof
The yard was empty except for the animals when Mariah returned to the Ansell farm. The evening wind whipped around her, chilling her skin. The air smelled faintly of snow. The little group of do
gs greeted her warmly, barking halfheartedly before licking her hands. They followed her to the main house but wandered off toward the barn as she approached the front door and let herself in.
The main room, where the Ansells’ large living area transitioned seamlessly into their kitchen, was filled with warmth, noise, and voices. The four older Ansells and all four Tamsins sat around an enormous farm table. Mariah remembered Bria saying that Wakely had procured the table for them to make meals easier with their now permanent guests. She wondered if they would be needing it as much now that the Tamsin family had their own cabin.
A chorus of “Mari!” and “Mariah!” went up as she closed the door behind her.
On the far side of the table, a teenage boy with jet black hair looked up and met Mariah’s gaze with a smile. Xae. He jumped up and was around the table in a flash, wrapping her in his arms and squeezing her tight, lifting her slightly off her feet. How much had he grown since they had returned? She almost couldn’t see over his head. He had also filled out a bit, muscle replacing what before had seemed all skin and bones.
“Hey, bird boy,” she groaned, using Shira’s nickname for him. “I missed you too, but I really need to breathe.”
He laughed and backed off, setting her down before suddenly patting down his pants pockets. “Oh, hey. The innkeeper at the Scarp and Trawler was holding a message for you, said it came about a week ago.” Finally, he fished out a scroll tied with twine and handed it to her. “I’m guessing it’s from Shira. Tell me how much she misses me, okay?” He grinned and went back to his seat, brushing Nya’s head as he passed.
Bria rose, her empty plate in hand, and said, “You can have my chair. There’s some stew left in the pot.” She gestured toward the hearth.
It was then that Mariah realized that except for Xae’s, all of the other plates were empty or nearly empty as well.
“Mama?” Nya asked. “Can we be excused?”
“Don’t you want to visit with Mariah?”
With no malice, Ayla replied, “No, we want to go play in the new house. Xae hasn’t been inside since it was finished.”
Her brother laughed, his voice deeper than Mariah remembered from even a week before. “She’s right, Mama. I only helped build the thing.”
Simone, her smile tight as always, asked Mariah, “Do you mind eating without us?”
“Actually, I ate at Gwyn’s. You all go on.”
She watched the Tamsin family gather their coats and cloaks and amble out the back door with Lia and Levin at their heels. She doubted that there was another teenage boy in all of Whitelea who appreciated his family as much as Xae did. He had been a different person since they had been returned to him. He was still fiercely protective, knowing firsthand that they could all be taken away in an instant, but all those months ago, Mariah would have never guessed at the warmth and passion that were hidden inside his sullen exterior.
When she looked up, fiddling with the scroll in her hand, she found Bria watching her as she gathered dishes from the table. Zach rose, eyeing them both, and muttered something about having chores to do outside. Before she knew it, she and Bria were alone.
“Is Rissa sleeping?” Mariah asked.
“Yes, but not for long, so don’t think you’re going to get out of telling me how things went. If Gwyn fed you, it must not have been that bad.”
Mariah smiled. “I would never dream of keeping you out of the gossip circle.” As she walked by Bria to snag a crusty bread roll out of a wooden bowl on the table, the other woman lightly slapped her arm. Mariah rounded on her, her voice mockingly serious. “Are you not the one who led me to believe that Gwyn was ill or dying?” She tucked the scroll into her belt and ate with one hand while she began to help her friend stack dishes for Xae and the children to wash later, once they had a chance to heat the water.
Bria ignored her and instead asked, “So?”
“So, all these months, how could you keep from me that Gwyn was getting married?”
“You’ve reconciled!” A huge grin erupted on Bria’s pretty face. “Finally! I swear, your stubbornness has reached all new levels this time, Mari. With both of you and your mule heads, I thought the world would end before one of you would talk to the other again. I had to do something. I just knew—whatever it was keeping you apart—that you could work it out if you just talked.”
Mariah just smiled. She still wasn’t quite ready to share the details she had kept from Bria. Just how did she tell her friend that not only was she a chosen of the gods—many believed that of all of the Ceo San—but that she had supposedly been chosen to save all the other chosen? She didn’t believe it herself, although having a small role to play, as Gwyn had surmised, might be easier to wrap her head around. Once she had done that, maybe then she would tell Bria about it.
“Plus,” Bria continued, “I need to fit you in your dress, of course. I’ve done as much as I could without—”
“What? Did you just say dress? I haven’t worn a dress since–”
Bria’s eyes went wide and pleading, but Mariah was well acquainted with the manipulation that was taking place. “Mariah, it’s a wedding … Gwyn’s wedding! You have to wear a dress!”
She sighed. “I’ll think about it. Can you at least give me ’til morning?”
Bria’s pleading look was replaced by a very self-satisfied one. She nodded. “So, what did Xae bring for you?”
“A letter, maybe from Shira. He said the innkeeper in Eiocliff was holding it for me.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
Mariah nodded. “Of course. She’s probably wondering when I’m coming back. I did promise. I guess I didn’t expect half a year to pass before I saw her again. I hope she’s not upset with me.”
“Life has a funny way of doing unexpected things. If you don’t go soon, you may have to wait months. Zach says the weather’s about to turn.”
Her burly farmer husband had excellent instincts when it came to the weather, and Mariah nodded, thinking it was about time that she do more than just find out how things were in Varidian. The ideas percolating in her head were starting to take shape.
She heard a small voice murmuring indistinct words and looked up to see little Rissa crawling through the bedroom door, her curly blond hair mussed but her eyes bright.
Bria rushed toward her and gathered her up. “You little stinker. How did you get out of your cradle again? She’s always doing that, and she never gets hurt. I just don’t understand it.”
“I guess babies have a funny way of doing unexpected things too.”
As Bria went about taking care of her youngest child, Mariah wandered out the back door, but instead of finding the others, she walked over to the barn and sat down on a barrel just outside the door. She pulled the scroll from her belt and began to read in the waning light.
Mariah,
Where in the world are you, featherhead? Am I to wait until next Insolomon to see your face in these parts again? Are you ever comin’ back?
Mariah chuckled. Of course, she wouldn’t wait until summer. Even if she did let winter pass—which she wouldn’t—she’d go long before summer began.
As she continued to read, she scratched lightly at her other wrist. There were still irregular, raised areas on her skin, scars that traveled up her forearms and marked the damage that the enchanted shackles and iron chains had done to her when she was trapped in Rothgar’s dungeon, before Shira’s father had helped her pry them off. A shudder ran through her. The memories still gave her nightmares.
I’m sorry, but I’m waitin’ on you to go to Eaglespire. I know I promised, and you know I always try to keep my promises, but things, well, things have made me think I should wait for you. That I shouldn’t go alone, not this time. I know you got precious ones there, lady, folks you care about, but I’ve got this bad feelin’. Ma says I should trust my instincts, and as much a
s I hate it, she’s pretty much always right.
Mariah’s back stiffened. Was everything okay? What exactly did Shira mean by “things”?
The family’s missed you. Ma and Da have been asking how those kids are getting on, and I’ve missed you too, beak brain.
The last line sat all by itself at the bottom of the paper.
Please come back soon, before the winter storms get too bad.
Shira
Mariah had a feeling Shira was talking about a lot more than just snow.
As she finished the letter, she felt someone’s intense gaze, and she lifted her head. Xae was leaning against a smooth wooden pillar on the porch of his new home, watching her openly. She let the scroll roll closed as he stepped down and began walking toward her.
Mariah’s hand tightened, crumpling the paper as the boy regarded her silently, his gaze moving back and forth between her eyes and the letter. Whatever was going on in Varidian, she didn’t want to pull him into it. It couldn’t be good. Xae had risked his young life to save his family. He deserved peace. He deserved to enjoy his family. He deserved a chance to live to adulthood. He deserved safety.
“I deserve to know,” he said, as if reading her mind.
In a huff, feeling as if she was the child instead of him, she let the letter drop to the dirt. She walked clear to the fence line before she stopped, refusing to watch him as he read.
She was still preparing her response to him when she heard his footsteps behind her a moment later. Night was settling, cloudy and dark, and when he handed her the scroll, his mouth was set in a thin line. “I guess you’re leaving soon then.”
“I guess I am,” she replied. “Right after the wedding.” She’d need a little time to gather supplies. To say her goodbyes. Again.
Revelation of the Dragon Page 3
