Two hours later, after Cora had visited the bathing wagon and thoroughly washed her hair, she went to her old tent. Her chest felt tight when she noticed her side still held all of her things—her cot, her blankets, her clothes—as if Maiya had never given up on her returning. She changed into a fresh shift, bodice, and skirt, relishing the fragrant lavender that wafted off the clean textiles. Her heart yearned to bask in the comfort of being home again, but the sinking in her gut reminded her that she wouldn’t be staying for long. Druchan had been evidence enough that even though many amongst the Forest People would accept her return, there would be many others who would not. At least Salinda had promised to spread word that Cora wasn’t the outlaw her poster claimed she was. It wouldn’t be long before the entire camp learned what had occurred inside the elders’ tent too—that some of them were going to fight an Elvyn blood mage.
She rifled through more of her belongings, finding a spare belt, a knife, her extra bow, and more arrows for her quiver. As she began to stuff the arrows inside, something caught her eye. She peered into her quiver and saw the white unicorn-horn blade that had belonged to the deceased Prince Helios. She’d nearly forgotten about it, having not seen it since she took it from beside the dead body and tossed it in her quiver. A subtle pulse of dark energy entered her awareness, heavy and sorrowful.
“You aren’t leaving already, are you?”
Cora dropped the arrows the rest of the way inside, hiding the dagger and muting its dark resonance once again, and whirled to face Maiya. They collided in a hug that included much crying on Maiya’s part.
“I woke up this morning andknewyou’d come,” said her friend. “Just like I knew that poster was wrong about you when the traders brought it back last week.”
They separated, and Cora studied Maiya’s face, curious what else she knew.
Maiya blushed and averted her gaze with a shy smile. “Should I call you Your Highness?”
Cora gave her shoulder a playful shove. “Don’t you dare.” If there was one person she wanted to continue to beCorawith, it was Maiya.
Maiya grinned but her expression quickly turned somber. “Mother told me about the meeting with the elders, but I still can hardly believe it. Mages, dark magic, war. It’s…terrifying.”
Cora could only manage a nod.
Maiya nibbled a corner of her lip and said, “I understand why you did it. Why you never told me who you truly were. Still, I wish you had. I could have been there for you.”
“You were there for me,” Cora said, gathering one of her friend’s hands and giving it a squeeze.
“Not as much as I could have been.”
“What else could you have done?”
Maiya sighed. “I just…I just wish I’d known. You must have been through a lot before you came to us.”
Cora wasn’t sure what to say about that. She had been through a lot, but her past wasn’t a topic she felt like talking about at the moment. Her mind was too wrapped up in the pasts of those shedidn’tknow. She was desperate to learn more about what the Forest People knew—about Morkai, about whoever the Blood of Darius was, about the prophecy. Thankfully, she was saved from having to shift the subject when the tent flap opened again.
Roije took one step inside and froze, his eyes darting between Cora and Maiya. He seemed flustered at finding them both there. Perhaps he’d been looking for Cora to ask more details about the dark tidings she’d brought. “I’ll come back,” he said as he began to back out of the tent.
Cora was about to tell him they could talk about anything in front of Maiya, but her friend spoke first.
“No, Roije, it’s all right.” With a flutter of her lashes, Maiya took his hand.
His eyes locked on hers. The soft grin that stretched across his lips made him look more boyish than Cora had ever seen. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I came to ask if you still wanted to go to the hot spring caves together.”
Cora’s cheeks burned as she suddenly realized what she was witnessing. Her eyes landed on the pair’s clasped hands, the nervous, desire-fueled emotions radiating off of them in droves, the implications of Roije’s invitation to the hot springs. Maiya and Roije were…courting.
Maiya glanced at Cora, brows knitted. Her energy clouded with regret. “I wanted to, Roije, but now that Cora’s back?—”
“It’s fine,” Cora said, her words coming out in a rush and with far too much enthusiasm. A strange blend of surprise and jealousy flooded through her. Her envy wasn’t of Maiya. She’d never fancied Roije and had always wished the two of them would confess their feelings for each other. It was more that she was struck with a sudden longing for what her friend was experiencing. Or perhaps it was only regret over not having been there for such an exciting development in Maiya’s life. Whatever the case, it brought a sudden memory of Teryn’s lips against hers?—
She shook her head, banishing the thought.
“Don’t worry about me,” Cora said, her voice back to normal. “I need to speak with your mother, anyway. Go have fun.”
Maiya grinned, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade. “You won’t leave tonight, will you?”
Cora had originally considered making camp with Valorre not too far away, but the pleading look in Maiya’s eyes made her reconsider. She almost asked if Maiya was planning to return to their tent tonight or stay with Roije, but she quickly swallowed the question. Her friend was shy enough. She’d probably be mortified by such an indelicate suggestion. Instead, Cora gave her a reassuring grin. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
After Maiyaand Roije left for the hot springs, Cora made her way to Salinda’s tent. She found the woman sitting outside it, a quill and stack of parchment in hand. Salinda’s brow was furrowed as she wrote, her energy heavy and murky. Cora realized Salinda must be recording what had transpired today. As Keeper of Histories, it was Salinda’s duty to keep records of not only the past but any new events that dealt with the Arts. Salinda always put her stories to paper first before committing them to memory where she carried them thereafter. With the Forest People being nomadic, they didn’t have space or the means to carry physical tomes.
Salinda didn’t look up from her writing until Cora cast a shadow over her work. “Forgive me,” Salinda said with a smile as she looked up at her. “I was wrapped up in words.”
“You can keep writing,” Cora said, stepping out of the sunlight so it could illuminate the parchment again. “I’ll wait until you are finished.”
