Drink the potion, it told her.
She was standing in the streets.
Children came running up behind her, nearly knocking her off her feet.
But the sight of the bright red ringlets on the girl’s head made her do a double-take at the children.
“Drae!”
The noise of a little boy’s voice filled her ears, and she watched as a black-haired boy ran beside her and then engulfed the small red-headed girl in his arms. Their giggles echoed in her head as he lifted her off the ground in a sideways hug.
“You left me!” the young Rhaif declared.
“Bina told me to run,” she had said, referring to their mother, Arbina. “She said you wouldn’t catch me.”
“I will skin the both of you!” came the sound of Willow’s voice. Aydra turned, remembering the way Willow had run after she and her brother when they were children.
Rhaif leaned over and whispered something in young Aydra’s ear that Aydra didn’t remember him saying. But her younger self grabbed Rhaif’s hand, and they fled off down the street giggling, ignoring Willow’s shouts after them.
She was sitting on the edge of a cliff past the castle.
She looked down at her hands, noticing the blisters on her knees and on her palms. Rhaif was sitting beside her, his fourteen-year-old self staring at her with water in his eyes. He reached for her hand and wrapped his own around it.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
Aydra swallowed hard, pushing the tears from her face. “I’m okay,” she lied.
“If I had my fire, he would not touch you again,” he promised.
“I don’t want you to worry,” Aydra whispered. “Zoria said—”
“I know what she said,” Rhaif argued. “I was in the room. But… he hurt you.”
“It’s okay,” she told him.
“Drae, it’s not—” His words ceased, and she winced at the grip he took on her hand. He must have felt it, for he softened and pushed her hair off her face.
“Our youngers will never know of it,” he declared. “Nyssari and Dorian. We can be better than our elders have been.”
Aydra met his eyes. “Do you promise?” she’d asked of him.
Rhaif leaned over, and he took her face in his hand. “I swear it.”
Aydra woke groggily on the third day and sat up in the bed. Her head throbbed, and she suddenly realized the noon sun was staring at her, which meant she’d been asleep at least a day. The memory of the dreams she’d been cursed with made her heart constrict. Her stomach growled, and so she pushed herself to her feet with the crutches beneath her arms, and walked out onto the balcony.
Her feet did not sting as badly as they had the morning before. On this morning, she could actually put some weight on them. The easy healing made her chest swell with gratitude.
Below were wagons and wagons of goods settled between the trees and around the clearing. Hunters were in lines, moving bags and goods from the trailers to their own storage carts. Her eyes narrowed down at Draven’s figure, who was speaking with who she assumed was the trader. The dark ecru skinned man had his white dreaded hair pulled up high on his head, the thickness of it stark against the dark forest. Draven handed him something, and the man shook his hand and clapped his shoulder.
“Morning, Sun Queen.”
The noise of a woman’s voice made her jump and thus quickly fall onto the floor as her ankles gave out from under her. She did a double-take up at the one who had spooked her—a woman Venari. She was smirking down at her, dark skin glistening in the light from the sun. Her thick black curls were pulled up onto her head in three buns down the middle all the way to her neck. Aydra eyed the tight brown pants and white tunic she wore, the leather vest fitted against her slim torso.
The woman huffed amusedly under her breath and shook her head as the grin spread on her beautiful face. “He said you were jumpy,” she muttered. “Didn’t realize he meant this jumpy.”
Aydra exhaled boldly, cursing herself for falling over her feet. “Who?”
“My king,” she informed her. The woman held a hand down to her, and Aydra reluctantly took it.
