The small silver ring—the one set with tanzanite and carrying far too many memories—burning a hole in his pocket certainly wasn’t helping.
Maybe one day he’d be ready. Not yet—not today.
“It feels strange to be here,” he said, words just for Mariah. She was silent, waiting for him to continue. “In my mother’s homeland. I always dreamed of visiting one day, but…all those dreams involved her being here, too.”
He hated the way a piece of him settled at the touch of Mariah’s hand, at the way her fingers wound through his.
Weak.
“I’m sorry she’s not,” she said quietly.
He gave a small shrug. “So much has changed since those dreams. I feel like I hardly know who she was anymore.”
“Of course, you do.” Her grip tightened. “The mother you knew didn’t change. Life is complicated for everyone. Learning more about someone’s past changes nothing about who they are at present.”
Gods, there was nothing about Mariah that he deserved. Not one gods-touched thing.
His throat closed and he faced the road with a tightness to his expression that he knew looked like a scowl. Instead of trying to answer, he swept his gaze over the soaring Everheim Mountains. Water babbled beside the road, the birds calling in the trees. The creek they’d been following had widened, the water growing swifter and deeper as it morphed into a true river. Cielle circled above them, feathers flashing as she faded in and out of view.
Andrian forced a swallow before gesturing up at the bird. “You still haven’t told me about your new friend.”
Mariah found Cielle easily amongst the clouds. A small smile tugged at her lips. “Truthfully,” she said quietly, “I’m still figuring that one out, too.”
They fell back into an easy silence, her hand still in his, Kodie’s hooves clipping the packed earth. That was one thing he’d always loved most about Mariah; she felt the same comfort in silence that he did.
Their companions, though, didn’t seem to share the same conviction.
“This place is lovely, but…where are all the people?” Matheo asked from behind them.
Signe, walking beside him, laughed. “Leuxrith is not like Onita,” she said. “We do not travel along roads with loud wagons and thin-legged horses.”
“Signe,” Matheo said dryly, “we’re literally walking on a road.”
Andrian shared a glance with Mariah, both stifling a chuckle.
Signe sighed audibly. “This road is only for those entering Leuxrith and making for Eyarfell,” she said. “Those who live here have their own roads. Smaller paths that move through the forest and with the mountains. Villages and towns are tucked deep in the trees or nestled in the cliffs themselves.” She paused, and Andrian was tempted to turn to see what her expression was like. Maybe it was wistful, a happiness to be back in her home. A feeling Andrian had never known, not truly.
Mariah’s hand squeezed his again, and despite all the dark feelings he carried, he couldn’t help the way his lips kicked up in a smile.
Well, maybe he did know what home was. It just wasn’t a place for him, but a person.
If only his home wasn’t threatened by his very existence.
“We live a simple life here,” Signe continued. “There is a court in Eyarfell, but you will find that it is different. Leuxrithians prefer their smaller communities and connections with the earth and spirits rather than grappling for wealth and power.”
Mariah snorted. She twisted over her shoulder. “All men crave power and wealth, Signe.”
Signe was silent. “We shall see,” she said quietly. Andrian didn’t miss the sly, knowing lilt to her words.
Matheo, though, wasn’t done. “That sounds great,” he said. “But isn’t Eyarfell a city? And you said it was only a two day walk from the border.” He huffed. “So, are we close?”
“Oh, very close.” There was a smile in Signe’s voice. Cielle’s sharp cry pierced the cool mountain air. Her feathers shifted fully, and she disappeared from view.
Mariah stopped abruptly, pulling Andrian to a halt with her. She released his hand, whirling around. “Callamus?—”
The god—who’d been following them at the rear—gave them all a small, almost mischievous smile before taking off into a run. Winds buffeted their faces as a great indigo dragon burst from starlit smoke, leaping into the sky with only a few thunderous strokes of his wings.
“Thanks for the help, asshole,” Mariah muttered. Andrian choked back a laugh.
