Alena stood at the base of the trail beneath a canopy of maples, their leaves blazing in hues of copper, crimson, and gold—an autumn fire racing up the mountains. They loomed above her, their jagged spines lost in thickening clouds.
She swallowed hard and tightened her grip on the straps of her heavy pack. The sanctuary lay somewhere far above, its path already feeling impossibly far.
“Bare essentials only,” Phoebe said, testing the weight of Alena’s pack. “The priestesses at the top will have everything else we need.”
Alena nodded, though her stomach twisted. She turned one last time to San, who stood a few paces back with a wool cloak clutched around her shoulders. Her thick golden hair caught the dappled light and gleamed.
“Are you sure you won’t come with us?” Alena asked. She’d probably asked a dozen times already, but she couldn’t help herself.
Phoebe sighed. “Alena, they wouldn’t make it halfway. They’ll be safer here—more food, better shelter.”
It was true. But Alena was leaving until spring, and anything could happen to San and her boy while she was gone. The thought of losing either of them tore at her.
San gave her a soft smile. “Ama sent us good people.” Her gaze drifted to the elderly couple tending their olive grove. The old man steadied a ladder while his wife, a stout woman with a face weathered by sun and years, demonstrated how to strike the branches with a long pole. Leaves rustled, and olives rained down into the net Kaixo held open below, his brow furrowed in concentration.
The couple had taken in the two Non-Humans without hesitation, grateful for the extra hands and unconcerned with who or what they were. Alena and Phoebe had left them their three horses as thanks.
“I want to stay here,” San continued, gesturing to the quiet village nestled at the foot of the northern Achaean mountains. Smoke curled from hearths, and theclangof tools echoed from a distant blacksmith. It was the kind of place any Rasennan patrol would pass by without noticing, and that made it perfect. “We’ll be happy. You must go and train.”
Alena’s throat tightened. “I know. I just wish we didn’t have to be apart.”
San reached out and brushed a strand of windblown hair from Alena’s face—a motherly gesture that made Alena’s chest ache. She would miss that most of all. “It won’t be long. Spring will come. And you will find answers.”
Behind them, Phoebe’s voice rang out briskly. “Time to go.”
Alena pulled San into her arms. “As soon as the snow melts,” she whispered, “and the path is clear, we’ll return.”
San didn’t let go. “We’ll be here, waiting until you come back.”
She turned to Kaixo just as he let out a startled shriek—olives were tumbling down on him from the branches above. Eyes squeezed shut, he thrust out the net, trying to catch them. San laughed, her face lighting up with a warmth that cut through the chill in Alena’s chest.
She looked at peace. Truly happy. And after everything San had survived, how could Alena say no to that?
She squeezed San’s arm once more, committing the moment to memory, then lifted a hand in farewell to Kaixo, who grinned from beneath the olive trees. “I’ll miss you both more than you know. Please take care of each other—and stay safe.”
“Ama will watch over us all.” San held up the small carved figurine of Ama, the Non-Human goddess she always kept close. It was similar to Kaixo’s, except worn smooth with age.
Flashes of Leukos carving Kaixo’s figurine stirred in Alena’s mind, but she quickly pushed them away. It was still too painful to think about him.
With her pack slung over her shoulders and a heavy heart, Alena followed Phoebe up the winding mountain path. Each step felt like she was walking deeper into a silence she didn’t want to face.
Two wolves trailed after her—the large grey one with white front paws, and a sleek black female who had both followed her from the Western Lands. They padded through the fallen leaves, a quiet comfort, a final tether to the world she was leaving behind.
But they couldn’t follow her up the mountain, and even if they remained in the surrounding forests, the bond betweenthem wouldn’t hold over such a great distance once she reached the sanctuary.
As the trees gave way to rock and Phoebe murmured warnings of bears and mountain lions lurking in the caves above, it was time to let the wolves go.
Alena rested her forehead against the grey wolf’s for a long, silent breath, then turned to the black one, brushing her hand down the smooth line of her back.
“Thank you, my friends. For everything,” she whispered. “Now, go. Be free.”
They lingered a moment longer, as if sensing her reluctance, then turned and melted into the trees.
Only once they had vanished did Alena rise again, the weight in her chest deepening with every step. One by one, she had let them all go.
She hadn’t even begun her training, and already she felt more alone than she had in days.
They hiked the steep mountain path all day, dark clouds gathering above in warning. By nightfall, the first cold drops of rain had begun to fall. They found shelter in a narrow cave, built a fire from damp kindling, and took turns keeping watch through the long, shivering night.
