“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.
Neirin tensed. “I—”
Rustling in the brush drew our attention to the dense woods, and our conversation fell away. A moment later, Calix rushed forward, carrying a stack of folded black leather clothing. Neirin’s uniform. A strap hung diagonally over Calix’s shoulder with a sword sheathed at his back, and in his hand was a coin sack.
“You rummaged through my pockets,” Neirin scoffed.
Calix shrugged and tossed Neirin the coins, which he caught effortlessly.
My thoughts returned to the night of the festival, when Neirin had spent an exuberant amount of coin on liquor. Now he weighed it in his hand, and I couldn’t help but wonder if his perspective had changed. If now, instead of viewing the silver as nothing more than metal to toss at drinks, it was the potential for a new life for us. That kind of coin could buy us passage to the western lands. We could live off it for several moon cycles. It was an opportunity for safety and a fresh start.
A knot formed in my throat, and again, the trickle of unease that I was making the wrong choice here, risking too much, chilled me.
54
NEIRIN
From the woodsto the east of the castle, I led our group to a ruined section of the outer wall that led into the aspen grove surrounding Mother’s grave. It was the same crevasse I’d snuck through as a boy to play in the woods, only now it was a challenge to fit.
Within the walls, I slowed our pace, letting the sun ascend enough to cast shadows through the trees and raise mist from the chilled earth. My companions remained quiet until we reached the monument and the bed of flowers that surrounded it, then they left my side, exchanging excited whispers as they began their work.
I stood back a moment, my nightmare still weighing on me. The coin in my jacket pocket was my escape, a real way to care for my family for some time, to get us as far from the capital as possible. I knew this, yet I could not broach the subject. Not as we’d walked, and certainly not now while I watched Evera kneeling, instructing Calix with a smile on her face. This was her purpose, what she had been searching for. How could I take that from her?
“Can I help?” I asked, joining them.
Evera raised her vibrant sage eyes and held out her hand. I took it and knelt beside her. She explained her strategies for harvesting the plants. We would leave most of the flowers, taking only what we needed for the children.
Though I followed Evera’s instructions to the best of my abilities, I was frequently corrected by her or the boy. It was amusing the way he’d picked up her skill over the past moon; endearing, too. After one too many corrections, I was dismissed and tasked with keeping watch. A kind way of telling me my aid was not needed, but I didn’t mind. In truth, I preferred to watch the pair.
“Why would the flowers grow here?” Calix asked as he carefully pulled back the petals of a young bud and collected the seeds within.
Evera hummed thoughtfully. “I can’t be certain, but I believe it may have to do with the courses of nature. There are plants that grow only in certain climates, and others that grow only when given a specific nutrient.”
“You think they grow here because they feed off the body—”
Evera shot Calix a hardened look, and he cut himself off.
Was it Mother’s blood that caused the flowers to grow? Was it the return of her body to the earth that lent this place a sort of magic? Though I appreciated Evera’s instinct to intervene on the delicate subject, I found the concept intriguing. And, in a way, reassuring. The mother that I never had the chance to know lived all around me, just in a different form. Each time I came to this place as a child, it was her gift to the soil that brought life to the flowers. A breeze caught the aspens around us, bringing their song to life. Was she a part of them, too?
Closing my eyes, I let the sound take me back to all the times I’d sat before Mother’s monument. How many times had I asked her for guidance? How many times had I sought comfort here?Looking for anything to tell me that I belonged, that I was not alone.
The wind stilled, and I gazed at the marble statue. Its eyes of peridot gleamed in the early dawn light. Peridot.
Drawing my brows, I let my gaze fall to the necklace strung about Evera’s neck, the one her mentor had given her that hung between her breasts. Though the stone was rough and unpolished, unlike the ones embedded in the statue, it was otherwise the same.
I huffed a laugh, and when Evera looked back at me, confused, I smiled.
Peridot—the symbol of union between mind, body, and soul. Had it been so clear all along? Was Mother telling me I needed to give control over to my fox, for clarity, for unity, as Evera had read to me from the book of lore? My smile faded. How was I supposed to fully accept my fox when I could not trust him not to hurt the ones I loved?
55
EVERA
At the edgeof the aspens, Neirin dropped my hand and drew up the hood of his uniform to cover his hair.
“I’ll go first,” he said.
“No.” I retook his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “We go together, we will stand out less that way.” It was more of a hunch than something I was sure of, but I stood by my statement all the same. “The guards are expecting you to be alone, are they not?”
