Rominy’s heart almost stops at her words, and Elowyn tries to climb off the bed again, but he holds her close.
They don’t need her collapsing on the floor right now.
“I dreamed Viala was attempting to speak to me, but her words were garbled, and I couldn’t make sense of it,” Lorial says. “Where would they have gone?”
“Trysting under the stars, most likely,” Grandmera says. “Let’s calm down and think this through. They are neither of them helpless. Perhaps they just haven’t returned yet.”
“Father was hardly helpless when that musket ball entered his heart,” Lorial says.
Terror. That’s a look of terror on Lorial’s face. Stars above. It’s unsettling.
Of course he’s terrified. His son is missing.
“Forgive me, Mother. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I admit you were not the only one thinking it,” Grandmera says.
“I’ll have to sweep the land with my air magic and hope I don’t frighten any humans nearby.” Lorial groans. “Perhaps if Gerault accompanies me, people won’t be as alarmed.”
“He...he left,” Rominy says. “He was needed in Levina. But I’ll go with you.” Rominy glances at Elowyn in his arms. Can he go without her?
“Whatever you’re thinking, Elowyn, put it from your mind,” Lorial says. “You are not well enough to leave this room.”
He knows his daughter well.
“But, Pera, Rominy—”
“I am grateful for the offer, Rominy. Truly. But it will need to be Arisanna this time. Eventually, you’ll be able to manage farther distances from each other, but it’s too soon.”
Rominy nods. “I thought that might be the case.”
“Why didn’t we bring Rafelis?” Lorial asks.
“Who’s Rafelis?” Rominy whispers to Elowyn.
“Part of Pera’s elite warrior band. He’s a tracker with life magic.”
“I believe his binding partner was laboring to birth their first elfling,” Grandmera says. “Now, you need to calm yourself before you speak to Cerian, or you will send him spiraling.”
Lorial takes a deep breath and nods. “I’ll be back. Will you check on Nestraya? Whatever that dream was, it pulled me out of the heartlanding, but Nestraya was still tired, so I told her to go back to sleep.”
“And you believe she listened?”
Rominy’s gaze swings to Elowyn’s mother standing in the open doorway.
“Wishful thinking, I suppose, my love,” Lorial says.
“When were you planning to inform me you had a vision involving our elfling?”
Lorial sighs. “It was not a vision. It was a voice—Viala’s voice—speaking garbled Lothlesian. Douse me later, mylove. I need to wake Cerian and Arisanna. And don’t you dare use your life magic to search for Tharios from here.”
“I will find our elfling, Lorial. No matter the cost.”
Lorial looks torn. Then he shakes his head. “Let me try first, Nestraya. Please.”
She doesn’t look happy, but she nods, and Lorial presses a kiss to her temple before hurrying through the door.
“Mera,” Elowyn whispers. She sounds terrified, and her heart is racing.
