Ignoring the insinuation, I bite down to try to keep myself from flushing. “Why do you even have two languages, anyway? Can’t you just speak the Tongue all the time?”
“Imagine you’re the Land, having to listen to everyone talk all the time,” Emlyn says. “That’d get annoying real quick. Andwedon’t need animals eavesdropping on our every word.”
I guess that makes sense.And if the Land stopped listening to us after we fucked Her over, there would’ve been no reason for our ancestors to keep using it. Especially if the animals resented us, too.
His hand, which never left my thigh, pats me again. “Wait to follow Ellie. I’ll be behind you.”
He moves to one of the remaining horses, and with graceful ease, swings himself into the saddle and grabs hold of the reins. Outside of his pack, there are a couple jugs that he brought with us from Haven hanging from the saddle. It must be the water from the faelands.
A minute later, Taran mounts the last horse. Then they’re moving, with Ellie following along behind.
I squeeze my legs.
“E’torel sinta nan.”
Chapter 27
Ellie
At the end of our second full day of riding, Taran finds a spot alongside a small river to make camp for the night. Today would’ve been the first full day of classes Reid and I missed.Has the faculty realized we’re gone? How long will it take for them to organize a search and inform my parents?
I suppress those questions as I hand Willow off to Taran. It won’t do me any good to dwell on them. Even if my roommates revealed everything, the odds of anyone catching up at this point are slim. The only real worry is if we come across one of the Order’s outposts or border patrols. It’s a little surprising we haven’t stumbled upon any—but our path seems deliberate, almost as if Taran knows where they are.
In desperate need of some alone time, I set out in the nearby forest to gather some firewood. I’ve struggled with keeping my head up after Taran’s revelations yesterday. All my sins, slowly flooding my chest. But I need to be strong—this isn’t about me. It’s about helping Taran, so I can fix things, even if the uncertainty of how I’m supposed to do that is chipping away at my resolve.
My body’s quaking from within, emotions pushing against my skin, trying to break free. I sit among the ferns, close my eyes, and try to breathe, but there’s no room in my lungs. Tears tremble free.
With no one around to see, they burst out.
My chest jolts and heaves, ragged breaths barely escaping. I can’t let myself succumb to this. I can’t. I need to push through.
Arms shaking, I pull the little button from my pocket, the mother of pearl reflecting the dappled sunlight. So smooth, save for where my skin catches on its holes.Why does this bring me so much calm? Shouldn’t I be able to find that within myself?
Regardless, it does, my inhales slowly settling. I wipe my eyes, then tuck it away. I need to focus on what I can do, and right now, that’s supposed to be gathering firewood.
It’s silly, but every stick found in the leafy shadows builds my confidence as I add it to my collection, calming the tremble in my hands. Icanlive without incanting; I simply need to train myself to stop relying on it.
With a final, deep breath, I return with a pile of sticks so generous they threaten to fall from my arms. Emlyn’s nowhere to be seen—he must have gone hunting—and Reid sits by the creek, his boots off and his sleeves rolled up as he splashes water on his face. Possibly shaving?
I head straight for Taran, who’s almost done settling the horses. Willow’s golden coat reflects the warmth of the setting sun as he packs up his brush.
“I collected firewood,” I say, announcing my presence.
Taran bites back a chuckle, his eyes glittering with amusement when he spots the considerable stack I carry. “Yes, you did.” His expression softens into an almost wistful smile. “You’re really intent on changing your ways, aren’t you?”
I press my lips together, fighting back against the reminder of my wrongdoings. “Of course.”
He holds my gaze, as if considering me, and my weight shifts as heat rises to my face. One of the smaller sticks slips off the top of the heap, but Taran gracefully catches it before it hits the ground.
“Can you teach me how to start a fire?” I hold my breath as he sets the wayward stick back on the pile.
Taran promptly steps back and glances toward the tree line. “Emlyn can show you when he gets back.”
My brow furrows. “Why are you always having Emlyn teach me everything?” It’s not as if I’m a difficult student.
“He’s better at it.”
“Well, he’s not here, and you’re done with the horses.” I move into Taran’s line of sight, carefully balancing the sticks as I do. “The sooner we have a fire, the sooner we can eat.”
