Has she tamed you?he asked, only half in jest.
She commands both of us,was the smug answer.
Well, that was true.
And as spring warmed into early summer, Soren began toharbor the hope that, as Maeve spent more and more of her time with him, even days there wasn’t school, he might have earned just a little of her affections. They spent their days strolling by the nearby lake, flying up to his favorite perch or just flying across the region to see what they could see, picking blackberries along the streams, reading and sunbathing in dappled afternoon sunshine, and gardening, too.
They were, without doubt, the best days of Soren’s life.
So good, in fact, that he, so unused to happiness lasting this long, began to worry there might come an end. There wasn’t any indication from Maeve that this was so, but Soren couldn’t help the worry. Histurukgrumbled that whatever happened,ifit happened, they’d do whatever it took to keep her.
But Soren, the rational part of him, knew that Maeve wasn’t a bird to be caged. She had to be convinced, wooed, and for that, he decided he needed advice.
That was how, on an afternoon free from his duties at the school, he found himself gliding down to the meadow of Imogen and Balar’s homestead.
It was a quaint place, with a burbling stream on one side near the comfortable animal pens that housed her prize-winning goats as well as Chestnut the donkey. Flowers bloomed around the meadow and its perimeter, oranges and blues and whites that gave the air a sweet smell.
An out-of-place noise caught his ear, and he looked to his right to watch the rear end of a horse disappear behind the trees, departing from the meadow. He caught only a glimpse of the rider, familiar brown curls bouncing with the horse’s gait.
Soren knocked on the open front door, announcing his arrival, and received greetings from Imogen and Balar. He’d picked a good time to come; he knew Akila, Diar, and Kiri would be busy elsewhere and not butt in.
“Was that Sorcha Brádaigh I saw leaving just now?” he askedas he drew further into the cottage.
Imogen and Balar exchanged careful looks.
“It was,” Imogen confirmed. “She came with…something to share.”
Soren looked between his brother and sister, his senses sharpening at the strange mood.
“Is something the matter?” His guts twisted to think something was amiss with Maeve’s family.
“It’s good you’re here,seska,” said Balar. “We actually need to speak with you.”
Clearing her throat, Imogen said, “Let’s sit.”
Utterly baffled, Soren sat where Imogen indicated, in a chair she usually claimed. She sat down with Balar across from him in the battered sedan. There was barely room enough for both of them, Imogen smushed into Balar’s side, and it would’ve been a silly, charming image they made had they not been regarding him so gravely.
“Has someone died?” asked Soren. With the way they looked, he thought it likely.
“No, no one’s died,” Balar sighed.
“Sorcha was here sharing some news she just received.” Imogen wrung her hands, a gesture Soren had never seen her do before. “I guess she’d been waiting on a letter from Lady Aislinn for a while now, but it was delayed with the spring festivals and planting season. Sorcha had asked about possible positions for Maeve in Dundúran. It took a while for inquiries to be made, but…”
“A position has been found,” said Balar. “One she can start immediately. She would need to move there.”
Soren’s ears rang, even as the two of them fell silent.
No. No, no nono no—he was supposed to have more time—she’d mentioned finding something else next year, not wanting to abandon the students—she couldn’t just abandon—
His shock must have shown on his face, for Imogen winced as she watched him.
“Apparently Maeve herself made requests to Lady Aislinn, too, even after Sorcha had written. Did she…not say anything about it to you?”
No. They hadn’t spoken of anything further in the future than perhaps a fortnight, and it was usually about plans for the students. It was safer that way.
She always meant to leave—she made no secret of that. But Soren…had stopped believing it at some point. Had begun to hope, to believe that she would stay.
He only realized just how deeply his delusion had burrowed inside him when faced with the truth of it. Maeve was leaving.
