“Damn …” Imumble.
“Indeed.” He sighs and scrubs his hand down his face. “Carys’s guard was immediately shot down by an arrow, and I remembered thinking,she’s just sixteen. She might’ve been the heir, but she’d done nothing wrong. The next arrow that flew her way… I dove in front of it. Absolute chaos broke out, and the next thing I knew…”
His throat bobs as he swallows. He turns his face toward the sky and his breathing grows uneven until he focuses on me again. “Maura didn’t make it. I’d like to think that the arrow in her heart killed her immediately … Because the next arrow struck her in the abdomen.”
My stomach clenches so painfully that I press my hand to it. “I’m so sorry.”
He waves my sympathy away. “It’s been five years.”
“That doesn’t mean it hurts any less.”
His eyes are fraught with so much pain that tears come to my own. I hesitate for the briefest moment before I slowly wrap my arms around his middle, my palms flat against his upper back and my head pressed against the hollow of his neck. I feel him swallow again, feel his breath shudder before he rests his chin gently atop my head, his arms closing loosely around me. I’m swept up in a tide of sadness for him.
I don’t know how long we stand there, but our surroundings begin to dim. I unwrap my arms and peer up at him.
“Thank you,” he says.
I shrug and smile gently. “We all need a hug sometimes.”
He sighs heavily and turns his face to the sky again. I catch a glimpse of that scar on his neck. That dream I had back in Paramount…. I want to ask him about it, but perhaps now is not the time.
Kilkenny looks down at me again. “We should get going. Find the others.” He extends his hand to me, and my lips curve up as I slidemy hand into his. Now my stomach flips for a very different reason. I try not to dwell on the sensation as we take the path back the way we came. Things are too complex to give in to feelings. At the end of this journey, we’ll likely be going our separate ways—me remaining in sanctuary, and Tiernan off to be a hero, I’m sure.
CHAPTER 55
Durvla
Chiyo boughtme a new dagger belt at the market, and I adjust it around my waist. Chiyo’s full name is Cloda Chiyoko Kilkenny, but it dawns on me that I don’t know her brother’s full name after almost two months since meeting him. He walks beside me, leading Ghendor by the reins, and I glance at him with curiosity.
“Do you have another name like Chiyo?” I ask.
He blinks at me for a moment, but then signs, “I do.”
I watch him expectantly, and a tiny smile buds on his lips.
“Itaru,” he says, fingerspelling it slowly.
“That’s lovely.” I smile at him, and he shrugs. We fall back into comfortable silence for a while longer. My legs are like lead, but my rump is sore from riding. There’sno winning.
Alys, Chiyo, and Osheen are engaged in conversation up ahead, with Kilkenny having volunteered to bring up the rear. He glances at me, signing one-handed. “Tell me about Taig,”
A pang settles in my chest, but I exhale slowly and will it away. Today has been a day of memories for sure. For Kilkenny, for Alys, and now for me apparently. “He’s an incredible little boy.” I’m warmed by the memory of his goofy smile. “He was just a baby when we noticed that he was different. It didn’t make us love him any less, though. If anything, we loved him even more. He doesn’t talk. Not yet anyway.”
What if he said his first words, and I missed them?
“He loves soft things and hates loud noises. Ironic since… you know.” I point to my ears and Kilkenny chuckles and nods.
“How did you all keep him hidden for so long?”
“Trap door,” I sign with a shrug. “Osheen helped us create it for him.” Osheen glances back from where he’s walking alongside Chiyo. He smiles softly at me, and I smile back. We’ve all dismounted our horses to give them a break from our weight. Soon we hope to find someplace suitable to rest for the night. “No one else has really taken care of him. Well, aside from Osheen’s family when I was apprehended. He can be a challenge.”
“If it makes you feel any better, Alys tells me that the Verge is a paradise for those with ailments and differences.”
Alys looks back at us, signing, “Everyone is welcome in the Verge.” She wears a different headscarf now, wrapped around the front of her hair and woven through a thick braid down her back. “Ordinary, magical, different, typical, healthy, ailed…”
That sounds divine, yet I can’t quite fathom it. The world we live in hates differences— differences are seen as weaknesses. “Sounds perfect for a magical woman with an ailment,” I motion with a small smile.
“Let’s stop here,” Kilkenny says, coming to a halt. We’re under a few trees in a small clearing. We’ve already ventured off the main path, so it would offer us some coverage.
