“Stubborn, the lot of you.”
“Look who’s talking.”
Another laugh. “Fair.” He turns his head to look at me, his gray eyes catching the firelight. “But what if I hadn’t come back?”
“Then I would have been wrong.” I meet his gaze. “But you did.”
“I almost didn’t.” He looks down at his hands. “There were moments when I wanted to let go. When the dark felt easier than trying to find my way out of it.” He falls silent for a moment, then looks at me again. "Six weeks. And then we take Ivylock."
"Six weeks."
“I’ll be ready.”
I look at him. I’ve watched this male argue with anyone and everything. I’ve watched him laugh and fight and rage and grieve. The humans tried to destroy that. But he’s here, talking and laughing, and pushing back against being treated carefully.
“I know you will.”
“Maybe I should try and rest.” He pushes himself up from the chair, and walks to the door. When he reaches it, he pauses and turns. "It's good to be back, Cairn. Even if 'back' isn't what it used to be."
"No. It isn't." I meet his eyes. "But we'll make it something new. And you’re too stubborn to let it defeat you."
His smile is real this time. “So I’ve been told.”
“May the stars guard your sleep this night, Caelum.”
“And you, Eldráfn.”
The door closes behind him.
I stay where I am, staring into the flames. The Nightwild magic hums at the edge of my awareness—seven threads where there used to be twelve.
But seven is more than three. And three was more than one.
We're rebuilding. Piece by piece, thread by thread.
FORTY-FIVE
ALLERIA
“You’re dropping your shoulder again.”
I adjust my stance, draw, and release. The arrow hits the target two inches left of center.
“That’s better.” Therin is perched on a tree stump, one leg swinging. “But you’re still thinking too much before you draw. By the time you’ve lined up the perfect shot, whatever you’re aiming at has wandered off to find something else to do.”
“But I hit it.”
“You hit the target, yes. But the target isn’t going anywhere.” He hops down and walks over to me. “In a real situation involving bows and arrows, you’re not going to have time to breathe, center yourself, and find your inner calm or whatever you’re wasting time doing. You have half a heartbeat to draw and loose before something unpleasant happens to you.”
“So, what do you want me to do?”
“Stop thinking, and start trusting your instincts.” He takes the bow from my hands, and nocks an arrow. “You know where the target is. Your body already knows how to shoot. You need to get out of your own way.”
He barely even glances at the target before he releases the arrow. It buries itself dead center.
“Show off,” I mutter.
He grins and hands the bow back. “I’ve had a few more centuries of practice than you. You’ll get there,ifyou listen to what I’m telling you. Now, let’s do this again. And this time, we’ll up the game.”
