“No, my king,” Jonnah said with a twinkle in his eye. “It’s a strange thing, you know. As you passed south on your urgent trek a few days ago, the wolves were constantly attacking, and only Prince Valenden’s traps kept us safe. And now, just a few days later, you return through Elderwall, and the wolves have all perished after that strange snowfall.”
Bryn, Rangar, and Valenden exchanged a knowing look.
Rangar finally cleared his throat and said, “We’re as relieved as anyone to hear about the end of the violent wolf attacks.”
Jonnah only smiled and offered the accompanying soldiers milk and bread.
As they rode along the final valley road back toward Barendur Hold, Bryn asked, “Do you think more people than just Jonnah suspect that we’re behind the berserkir wolves’ end?”
“My guess is rumors are already spreading,” Rangar answered.
Valenden scoffed. “I don’t see why you don’t just come out and take credit. It’s one of the greatest victories of the last decade.”
Rangar stated, “It was a collective effort of all people of the Eyrie, royals and common folk alike. Rather than individuals taking credit, better to let rumors spread about the mythical enchanted snowfall. People will know that magic stopped the wolves; that is enough.”
Bryn felt a flush of pride in what they’d accomplished.
As Rangar says, let legends grow on their own. Those are the best kind.
They crested a hill, and Barendur Hold appeared in the distance, backdropped by the sea. She drew Fable to a stop as she gazed at her home.
She pressed a hand to her belly, smiling.
“Bryn?” Rangar asked, stopping Legend. “Are you all right?”
She smiled. “Oh yes. I just wanted a good long look at my home.”
* * *
Once they returnedto Barendur Hold and settled back in after the journey, Bryn went to Mage Marna to confirm what she had recently come to suspect. The white-haired mage, not known for easy smiles, offered a grin when she felt Bryn’s stomach.
“When will you tell Rangar?”
“As soon as he returns from patrolling the forest to make sure all the berserkir beasts are dead,” Bryn said, beaming, though her smile faltered. “Will this change anything about my mage apprenticeship?”
“Of course not. All types of women have become mages at all stages of life. Motherhood is no exception.”
While Bryn impatiently waited for Rangar to return, she visited Saraj in the falconry mews. Zephyr spotted her first, giving a sharpcaw, and Saraj whirled around from where she’d been fixing a broken perch.
“Bryn! You’re back!” Saraj threw her arms around her. With a wide smile, she lowered her voice and said, “Your bold plan seems to have worked.”
“No berserkir wolf attacks in days,” Bryn agreed. “If there are no attacks the following week, we can officially declare the threat over.”
“How was it?” Saraj asked breathlessly. “The mage gathering?”
“Like nothing I’ve ever experienced,” Bryn said dreamily, reflecting on the raw power of all that collective magic. “Twenty-five casters all working together in unison. The energy was palpable.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t join you.”
“We were grateful you stayed behind to defend against the wolves.” A sly look crossed Bryn’s face. “You know, Oliver is back from the trek, too.”
Saraj’s cheeks pinkened. She cleared her throat a few times. “Oh?”
“He’s practically lovesick for you,” Bryn teased. “You should show the poor man some mercy.”
Saraj bit her lip, looking conflicted.
Bryn took her friend’s hand gently. “Trei would want you to move on, Saraj. He would wish for your happiness. For you to find love, and with someone he cared about, too.”
