Fern took a deep breath as tears over-spilled, wetting the fur of her cheeks. In a small and quavering voice, she uttered the hardest word of her life.
“No.”
At the parting of ways outside the gates of Amberlin, they stood together beside the horse and pony, Persimmon newly outfitted with a saddle suitable for a rattkin.
Astryx had insisted Fern take a share of the bounty. Fern had accepted it uncomfortably, and certainly hadn’t counted whatever was in the purse the Oathmaiden had tucked into the pony’s saddlebag.
Kneeling before her, Astryx withdrew the bracelet that had last girdled Zyll’s wrist. Delicate wire glittered in the afternoon sun. She offered it to Fern in an open palm. “If ever you need me, or decide you’d like to walk the same road together for a while, place this on your wrist, and we will both know how to find one another.”
Fern took it in one paw and studied it. “Didn’t you say that at long distances, there’s pain?”
Astryx tapped the bracelet still around her own wrist and smiled. “I find that some things are worth pain. You’ll know if and when this is worth it to you.”
Sniffling, Fern nodded and tucked it away in her cloak.
“Oh, there’s someone else who likely wants a word.” The elf reached over her shoulder and loosed Nigel in his scabbard.
There was the air of somebody straightening their tunic, followed by the sound of a clearing throat, and then Nigel’s voice declared, “There are few I deem worthy of my lady’s regard. In you, however, I can find little fault. Be well, and travel safe.”
“Can’t help but feelsomebodyhas been left out,” muttered Breadlee.
Nigel harrumphed.
“Take good care of her, Nigel,” said Fern, thumping Breadlee with a finger to hush him.
Mustering up the last of her courage, she took Astryx’s hand in both her paws, and said in a wobbly voice, “Thank you for harboring me when I stumbled out of my life. Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for enduring me. Thank you for wanting me to be something you needed. And thank you for understanding when I couldn’t.”
Halfway through, her vision was a blur.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
Then Astryx hugged her, burying her face in the fur beneath Fern’s ear. “Goodbye, my unexpected friend,” she murmured. “You have made my road a stranger, but I am so grateful to find my way by starlight again. I’m very glad you fell asleep in the back of my wagon.”
43
On a frigid afternoon in winter’s deepest heart, Fern stood once more outside Legends & Lattes. Snow caked the roofs of Thune and mantled the street, and a cloudless sky let the sun burnish it all in glitter and gleam. Her breath steamed in the sharp air.
It had taken weeks to make the return trip. She’d struggled astride Persimmon for two days before deciding that she was no horsewoman and that the mare would be better cared for by someone who knew what they were doing. The two of them weren’t fast friends anyway.
After trading the pony, she’d booked a carriage to Thune. Again.
No pescadines waylaid them, and no fabled adventurer came to their rescue.
On a brandy-soaked night many months gone, Cal had sent her to say the words that needed saying, but she’d instead traveled half the Territory to avoid it. Now, she was where she should have been at the beginning.
To her left, Thistleburr Booksellers was clearly open and doing business. The windows were fogged, but the shadows of customers moved indoors past the yellow glow of lantern light. She did her best not to think about any of that just yet.
Instead, she raised a paw, depressed the latch, and entered Viv’s shop.
The heat and steam enveloped her and made Fern’s fur frizz, the scent of cinnamon tickling her nose.
She saw Viv straight away behind the counter, the orc’s broad back turned, scrubbing at a mug with a cloth. A heap of Thimble’s baked goods glistened with sugar under a glass dome. A couple of folks waited in line, and beyond, the tables were lively with conversation. Tandri was nowhere to be seen.
Then Viv turned and saw Fern, and dropped the mug she’d been holding. It shattered on the floor with a sound like an explosion.
Fern’s heart squeezed tighter with every emotion she registered on Viv’s face—surprise, confusion, joy, hurt, anger.Definitelyanger in there.
That wasn’t where it settled, but it had certainly been a stop on the trip.
