“Tell me.” Lunara felt no remorse over the shrewish demand. She owed this creature nothing.
Cordelia’s instructions were succinct. Easy to follow. Lunara rejected the longing in her tone and the brief light in her eyes when she described the destination. She only cared about getting there and then never seeing another person for as long as she lived.
“It’ll need some help,” Cordelia murmured. “It’s been a very long time since I was there.”
“I don’t give a starry shite.” Lunara wrenched the front door open. “Goodbye, Cordelia.”
It was slamming shut behind her before Cordelia could reply. She pulled the deep, velvet hood of her cloak over her head and disappeared into the Evesong’s shadows.
Thus, Lunara the Moonweaver perished along with everyone else they hadn’t bothered to save from the wreckage.
Limpingthrough the swaying branches and fallen leaves, a tempting flask of blood bumping against her hip, Lunara spotted a dense shape ahead.
Hope spiked within her. She hadn’t dared use the portals to travel to the Northern Forest, except to get out of Starkeep. There was no telling who’d be on the other side, who might spot and recognize her. The cloak she wore went some way towards disguising her, but there was no such thing as being too careful.
Her journey had taken weeks, especially since she’d foregone her power, barring a couple of desperate times when she’dneeded to find food. The blood was there to replenish her only once she’d reached her destination.
Which, if she was right, was just beyond the tree line.
Lunara fought the urge to run. She’d only end up hurting herself in her sorry state.
She made it a few steps before passing through a wall of rippling power and emerging into a dream. The foreboding shroud of fog and mist dissipated, revealing a meadow of wild blooms and dancing insects. An overgrown path appeared at her feet, winding merrily away as if to sayfollow me!
So she did. That shape from before sharpened, lines appearing in its dissonance. Before she knew it, she was only a few steps from a… Was it a cottage? Shed? Hut?
Hard to say. Modest was an overstatement. A porch of waving, mossy boards took up the entire front and one side, its mushroomed roof and carved, blackstone pillars perilously close to crumbling. The large, round window beside the door was almost too big. Also missing a few of its faded panes, some of the others cracked, shards of colored glass littering the deck below.
Better than nothing. And heaps better than the Council.
She was still getting used to the new commentary—a figment of herself that her mind had conjured. Its snarky tone mixed with her own usual husk was a comfort, its words shrewd. It kept her level, focused. Helped her to cope.
Probably best not to dwell on that…
Right.
She dared to take the first step up, then the next, tentative as she tested the wooden planks for weakness. The arched, turquoise door was inviting amidst the rest of the structure’s rubble, its bronzed handle gleaming. Her hand didn’t feel like her own reaching out to grasp it, pushing the lever down and opening with a click.
Inside was worse. Aside from the sheer amount of dust and cobwebs, the dripping ceiling, and the strange nest in one corner, the entire thing was smaller than her bedroom in Starkeep by half.
No. Not… not your bedroom. Not anymore.
…Right.
Well, at least you’ll have something to occupy yourself! That’s not so bad.
A tight hallway led to a separate chamber—and a bed she would absolutelynotbe sleeping on. Back to the main room, and another door led to the… kitchen?
“Weeping moons.”
Shhh, it’s fine. You’re fine! Go top up that well, use your power, and you’ve got the blood for after! It’ll be stunning in no time.
She drew in a deep breath and thanked the Sisters for the gift of her new duality. For the wisdom it spoke and the peace it gave amidst the heartbreak roiling inside her.
And then she got to work.
It took a couple of days—and enduring some truly shocking indignities involving the local fauna—but it wasn’t terrible in the end.
If she was honest, it was sort of nice.
