“Truly, my darling, it is just a small sprain.”
“We shall stay an extra day, no, two days here,” he declares. “That way you have ample time to heal.”
“I might be able to assist as well.” Aurora steps forward. “I could activate my powers within her to help her flesh mend, as it helps mine in this form.”
“Yes.” Rather than releasing me, Conri slips his arm under my knees, the other still holding my shoulders. He hoists meup and I can’t stop a small noise of surprise. My hand grips his shoulder for balance; the strong muscle is as hard as rock under my fingers. “Set up the tent for the moon spirit,” he barks, and lykin immediately begin moving. “I will take my future queen there myself.” Conri gives Evander a side-eye as he brushes past.
“It truly wasn’t his fault.” I dare to rise to Evander’s defense, keeping my voice light and playful. “If anything, it is your fault for deciding to take such a clumsy woman for a bride.”
“I am the wolf king, I do not make mistakes,” he says with a slight smirk. Thank the old gods my jest worked. “And I know Evander is a good man and would never go against my wishes.” I work to keep any reaction to that proclamation to myself and just keep smiling. “It is simply that I do not wish to see any harm come to what is mine.”
What is mine… The words sit as uneasy with me as the majority of Conri’s other statements. They’re small wordings, little things that betray his true intentions and the way he actually perceives this relationship. I am as much a thing to him as the ring was. Nothing more.
By the time we arrive at the usual placement for Aurora’s tent, it is nearly finished being set up. Conri walks inside and sets me down on the cot. Aurora is close behind. Bardulf is positioned outside the entry.
“Ensure she is mended.” His eyes remain on me as he speaks, fingertips trailing down my jaw. “For I wish her to be in top form for tonight.”
“Yes, my king.” Aurora bows her head as he leaves.
As soon as the tent flap closes behind Conri, I make a gagging expression nearly at the same time as Aurora. We both share a look, and the snort of a barely contained, bitter laugh. She quickly sobers and sits on the cot next to me. We don’t exchange a word for another minute. It’s a good thing, because Conri’s voice is muffled by the canvas as he exchanges low words withBardulf that I can’t distinguish. But, after another few moments, he’s gone.
“I assume you’re actually all right?” Aurora nods to my ankle. She keeps her voice low.
“I am.” I move my foot in a circle. “I wanted to ensure I had some time with you and our routine was likely to be thrown off by the new camp.”
She nods. “Luckily, Conri should be meeting with the alpha of this camp tonight, so we have some time.”
I shift off the cot, sitting on the grass. My left hand, I place out on my knee, fingers up. My right hand I dig into the earth at my side. It’s the meditative position she’s put me in for the past few days as we’ve been traveling. A hand on the earth. Fingers to the sky. Ears and heart open with a large inhale, my eyes fluttering closed.
“Today, we shall actually attempt to call upon a spirit,” Aurora says softly, shifting behind me. She kneels, resting both hands on my shoulders.
“What?” I whisper. So far I’ve spent days just meditating, feeling the flow of energy through my body, her energy through her, and our place in the world.
“You’re going to call her to you,” Aurora says. “But not with your voice…with your magic and mine.”
My pulse quickens. “What will I do first?”
“Clear your mind and find the magic as you have before. Find the threads of my power woven into you and pull upon them,” she instructs in a slow, steady tone.
Within my mind’s eye, I imagine my soul as a large swath of canvas. Every experience, every meeting, is carefully embroidered in colorful thread. There are the threads that still smell of woodsmoke from Grandma’s hearth—from our home burning to dust. Threads that are too hot to touch that stretch out into oblivion, connecting me with Folost, wherever he mightcurrently reside. There are threads of bright red, the color of passion and blood and all the ties that bind. Threads of deepest blue, of starless nights consumed by endless tears and hollow heartache.
Among them all is a thread of pale moonlight. Lightly looped into me, stretching behind to tie into Aurora’s soul. My fingers twitch as I imagine myself grabbing it.
“Her name is Brundil, and she is the spirit of the earth.”
“The spirit of the earth?” My eyes nearly open with surprise, as if by seeing I could somehow ensure my understanding of what she said. Aurora has positioned herself behind me. “Someone so grand? I’m not?—”
“Worthy?” Aurora finishes for me. I can hear the slight grin to her voice. “Faelyn, you are most worthy. You are bound with the spirit of the moon, someone equally grand.”
“Your might is not my own.” I look over my shoulder and back at her. “I would never presume to take credit for your greatness; I am merely its temporary steward.”
“And that is what makes you all the more worthy to carry it within you.” She dips her chin and her eyes meet mine. “Now, I would like to see my old friend, if you don’t mind?”
“Of course not. But…could you not just call upon her?” I ask.
“Not split as I am.” A sad, slight smile graces her lips, only for a second. “When I had the ring in hand…it was barely enough connection to my full might to make my way across the tides and through the Fade.”
I know she doesn’t intend it, but I can’t help the guilt that streaks through me. As if it is somehow my fault her powers weren’t returned to her that night. If I hadn’t been there…
