“How many days did it take to get here from your kingdom?”
“Three days, but we were pushing pretty hard. It will probably take four at least to get back.”
“I didn’t think you were going to come back,” I admit.
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.
“Because I wasn’t sure if I’d get anybody to follow me.”
I scoff. “You’re their king.”
“Yes, but we’re talking about leading our people and our spirit dragons to war outside of our kingdom to another kingdom days away. It hasn't been done before. Or at least not in over a hundred years.”
I suddenly remember the battle Auri and I left. “Is your kingdom okay after the attack?”
“Yes. We followed a certain girl’s advice.”
“You let your spirit dragons fight,” I breathe.
“Yes.”
“And the battle?” I ask, holding my breath.
“Let’s just say, they weren’t prepared for what we unleashed on them. I’m sure they’ll be back, but we’ll be ready and waiting.”
I let out the breath I was holding. “That’s really great.”
“It took only a few hours to end the battle once we let our spirit dragons loose. Then we prepared to come here. From the looks of things, the battle here is done as well.”
“Man, I really hope so. I can’t imagine living without fear of the guivres.”
It gets quiet between us, and I try to get comfortable again. “Tell me about your parents.”
His quiet words shock me, and it takes me a moment to find my voice. “There’s not much to tell. They didn’t have spirit animals, so we lived with the banished. We were happy; I know that much. I have small snippets in my memories of them but not many. They were killed before I turned five.” I swallow. He doesn’t ask how, and I’m grateful. I’ll tell him at some point that they died of a disease; at least, that’s what I was told. I don’t really remember.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is soft. “What are some of the good memories?”
I think about his words. I think about the few memories I have of them. “There was this book,” I start.
“Yeah?” I can feel his breath on the side of my face.
“Yeah. It was a collection of children’s stories. I have no ideawhere or how they got it, but I remember they would read it to me every night. Or maybe that’s just what I remember. But I loved that book.” I smile at the memory. “It had the most beautiful illustrations. I would look at them for hours. I think I know every word of every story by heart still to this day. I remember sitting in between the two of them and hearing them take turns reading.” I fall silent.
“What were the stories?” he asks.
“Um, there wasThe Hearth That Never Went Out, The Map That Changed Every Morning, The Seven Trials of Little Bran,andThe Trees That Talked at Night.”
“That’s a beautiful memory. Do you still have the book?”
“No.” I don’t tell him that that was the last time I cried. It wasn’t when my parents died. It was a few months later, when I returned back to the place I slept and the book was no longer with my things. I searched everywhere for that book and cried and cried at the loss of the last tie to my parents. I think losing that book toughened me up more than losing my parents. I don’t tell him any of this, and yet, it’s like somehow he knows.
“I’m sorry, Harper.”
We don't really talk after that. After a while, I hear his breathing even out; and I will myself to be able to do the same.Are you in a safe place?I send to Redara.
Yes. Noxlyn and I are safe and nearby.
