“Every part of me wants to go, but I’d be no better off than him. And the Storm would be leaderless. I know that’s not what Reid wants.”
I bit my lip. Her words painted a picture of the weight and the honor of caring deeply for a group of people. “I can lead a search.”
She tipped her head back and stared at the sky. “With the downpour still in progress, I can’t recommend it. It’s not safe to descend and scale the mountain again now.”
Thunder rumbled, but I didn’t need the reminder to know she was right. I told myself the same thing a dozen times as I stood at the top of the pass.
“They’ll return,” she said.
I desperately wanted to believe her, but thatknowingwas gone. “How do you know?”
She shook her head. “I just do.”
Alysa was so sure. She had a confidence in Reid that I desperately wanted. For the first time, Irealized my curse might be a blessing. I’d only ever ignored it. At every turn, I pretended I couldn’t feel what I inexplicably knew was Hart.
Maybe I needed to search it out. The curse might not be working as expected, but Eris had claimed that no one could have anticipated the other part of our connection. If that was true, maybe I could use that to find him. Maybe I could know he was alright.
I closed my eyes and searched for the awareness I often attempted to deny. It felt like reaching for a hand already offered to help me up. This wasn’t an awareness of his physical location, but as I focused on him, something sweet coated my tongue.
Harrow chose that moment to land on Alysa’s shoulder. He flapped his wings and dropped something into her waiting hand.
Her eyes widened momentarily, then snapped to mine. “They’re coming.” She held up a gold ring. “Not even Harrow could have gotten this from Reid’s finger if he didn’t offer it himself.”
“Hart, too?” I whispered. Was I talking to a bird?
The bird’s beak dipped, and the sweetness I’d sensed didn’t abate. It only strengthened. I chose to believe the bird understood me, and Hart would return.
A breath of relief whooshed from my lungs, but it left me feeling hollow. I felt frozen on a precipice. The scream that had ripped from my throat—the fear, both mine and his, that had overtaken me when the mud and trees ripped him from view—they told a story I didn’t feel ready to acknowledge. Like the taste of fresh berries in my mouth now.
Alysa wanted her husband’s safe return. There was a desperation in the tight lines of her body that she worked hard to cover.
What did I want? I’d said the words that showed my broken heart. He hadn’t seemed surprised. He’d known.
He’d apologized. Since leaving Kavios, he’d strove to treat me as a partner, someone to talk to, someone to process with, but I’d shut him down at every turn.
If Hart and I broke this curse, or if we freed him from the goddesses’ game … if we overtook the Blessed and made the kingdom safe for humans, where would that leave us? Maybe the question didn’t matter. The list of everything left to do was long.
I’d accepted Alysa’s—and Harrow’s—evidence as fact; Hart would return.
As I stood in my spot overlooking the steep climb up to the mountain pass, I felt a bit like how I imagined a newborn foal did. My legs wobbled slightly, my stomach was a bit unsettled, and my gaze continually raked across the horizon.
No movement—yet.
But it would come.
Exhaustion overwhelmed me as the rain finally lightened. More quickly than it had started, the downpour turned to a drizzle and stopped. Alysa and I returned to camp. I mustered the strength to help with meal preparations, to ensure my parents were safe and secure, and to find somewhere on the not-quite-solid ground to sleep.
My parents offered me space in their tent, but there were too many others who needed shelter more. The stew warmed my insides enough that I bedded down beside one of the fires. Alysa ensured everyone ate and reassured those who were also missing family members or friends. Her work was tireless and seemingly unrecognized.
As most found their own beds and the settlement quieted, I remembered the way my stomach had plummeted watching the mudslide. A chill crept over my spine again as Iremembered the pure panic—the cold fear—that had overtaken me.
It had shocked even me. My fear for Hart had been bone deep, and brought with it an understanding I’d fought at every turn.
But I hadn’t told him. There was no way that counted for the trial.
Then again, Hart hadn’t precisely told me his fear that Eris would kill me before his gem glowed purple. I had observed it. That had been enough.
Something in me had shifted with my scream, with the disappearance of Hart from view. Whether it was fear of losing him or fear of the unwanted knowledge of what Hart still meant to me, I couldn’t be sure. He had to have tasted it, though. If his side of our connection was the same as mine, he had to know that my fear had been for him.
