At this time of the evening, the residential area of the sanctuary is calm. Sometimes there are bonfire celebrations in the square or larger dinners amongst families and friends. Everything is easily attainable in the Verge. Currency is not needed to buy anything. Instead, reasonable trades are arranged.
There’s a forge, a community garden, the Skirmish Den where fight training occurs, the armory, a small library, and plenty of homes for all the families here. Right now, our house feels so far away, my body is exhausted from the day of training and the afternoon jog, and the dizziness setting in reminds me that I need to take a tonic once I’m back indoors.
A couple people cross our path, smiling politely. Tiernan and I smile back and continue walking.
Since coming to the Verge, I’ve been confronted with conflicting feelings of belonging and isolation. Back in Cluain Baile, I hid my ailment, my deafness, and the existence of mylittle brother. Here, none of those things matter, but my powers do.
People gawk at me sometimes when I’m out and about. The woman with dark magic. No one truly knows the extent of my powers. We’ve kept my dreamwalking a secret, but my shadows tend to show themselves when I’mnottrying to summon them, so word spread quickly. This place may be accepting of everyone, but Basduunai were executed, even by other magic users once upon a time. Who’s to say history won’t repeat itself? Fear can drive even the kindest hearts to violence.
So, as far as people know, I’m just a botanist who happens to also be a Shadow Wielder.
The only Verge resident who knows of my dreamwalking is Dayfyd, Alys’s husband and the second in command.
Tiernan’s arm loops around my lower back, tugging me closer to his side as we continue walking. “A shilling for your thoughts?” he asks into my head.
“Nothing important.”
He stops walking right beneath the flood of light from a magelamp and gently turns me toward him. “That’s a brave move—lying to a Mind Whisperer.” There’s the tiniest glint of amusement in his angular eyes.
“Unless my thoughts are just being loud again, I know that you don’t read me.”
“Oh? And you’re certain of this?”
“I trust you.” How could I not when he gave up his stability and status for me?
The playful smile on his face melts into something more pensive. “I’m honored,” he says into my mind. “I would never do anything to betray your trust.” His face inches closer and the bands that constantly squeeze my chest loosen as our lips meet in a gentle caress.
I catch the shadow of a figure moving past us as I close my eyes. Our lips part, but Tiernan’s forehead rests against mine, one hand clenching slightly on my waist as if he’s reluctant to release me. In my periphery, a couple more people walk by, followed by even more until we pull back from each other and glance around.
“Alright, what is going on?” I sign, watching a few children walk past, their adults not far behind.
Tiernan points behind me and I turn just as a figure speeds toward us, pulling a wagon behind her. Chiyo.
My stomach drops as I take in her frantic expression. Her chest heaves with effortful breaths, her fair skin flushed pink.
“What’s happening?” Tiernan asks her.
She pulls a clip from her pocket and makes quick work of winding up her blue-dyed and brown hair into a bun. Within the wagon, Taig is beaming up at the magelamp above, his curls bouncing as he rocks side to side contentedly.
“The chief just called an urgent meeting in the courtyard,” Chiyo signs. My stomach sinks.
If the chief has called everyone out of their homes at night, it must be serious. I swallow my fear and bend just enough to drop a kiss onto Taig’s forehead. When eyes meet mine for the briefest moment, his smile widens. Then he goes back to staring at the magelamp.
Tiernan takes over pulling the wagon, his free hand wrapping around mine. We follow the Verge residents toward the courtyard where various logs, haybales, barrels, and other objects form makeshift seats. On the platform, Dayfyd stands a head above a stocky man with salt-and-pepper hair and tan leathery skin. Dayfyd is revered and renowned in the Verge; everyone greets him with sincere enthusiasm during the day. But he’s also unassuming—one of the people. Chief LyonBadeaux, however, is someone I’ve only heard about. He’d be considered the equivalent of royalty within this haven.
Chief Lyon’s smile is warm, deep lines forming at the corners of his thin lips and small eyes. “Welcome,” he says, leaning heavily on his ornate walking stick. A plump man to his left translates the word into signed language. My cheek twitches, but my smile is hindered by my fears about this announcement.
“I’m sure you’re all wondering why you’ve been called here on such short notice. It is my displeasure to bring you news from Outside.” He pauses, as if for dramatic effect.
As I stare at the translator’s hands, everything seems to move as though we’re suspended in honey.The queen is dead, as is the heir to the throne.The words sink into my heart, numbing my body. Beside me, Tiernan tenses, his hand suddenly holding mine, squeezing tremulously.
Panic erupts around us. Dayfyd and Chief Badeaux wave their arms, trying to capture the attention of the crowd while people stand and pelt the platform with questions. Taig begins flapping his arms, clearly distressed, but my limbs feel too heavy, and I find myself unable to move to comfort him. Chiyo reaches into the wagon to unstrap him as my vision blurs.
The words can’t be true. I don’t want to believe them.
Things can change at the drop of a coin, but …
I close my eyes against the rapidly building pressure in my head as a dull throbbing spreads from my temples to the rest of my face. My chest tightens before I hear Tiernan’s voice in my head. “Durvla?”
