When next the Lady speaks, she’s shifted from convivial to serious, and the energy in the room flexes with her change.
“You leave today for Elemyr; your trials await you. Not to test your worth—you are chosen. The coming days will test your bond. What grows between you is entirely your choice. The realms will ask something of you all. What? I cannot say.”
When the meal is finished, sisters arrive to take the plates of food away. Others bring leather packs. Mine is familiar and worn, my own, and I appreciate the sight of it. Inside, I find a fresh aubergine gown, dark riding breeches, and a cream tunic. There is a lined water skin and rations, dried meats and fruits from the Isle, enough for many days. I see my bone hairpin and comb tucked deep into the bag as well.
My bow and quiver are set by the door. Truthfully, I haven’t seen them in many days, since before that first day at the mirror pool. But I’m comforted by their presence here now. Our travel will be long, and we’ll have to hunt for our meals when we are between towns and villages.
Chiron and Wren take stock of their packs as well. A long sword is placed on the table. I can only assume it belongs to Chiron and was in the care of my sisters last night. Wren’s pack has a rolled map inside, light linen parchment, and is functional, not ornate. A small sickle wrapped in a leather scrap, and some light camping supplies, too. Chiron is given a thin but densely woven quilt for sleeping, along with whatever he traveled with in coming here. The Lady brings me a fine cloak, one that I recognize.It is a grayish purple and tightly woven, warm but not heavy.
“Vestera, Lady. This is yours. I cannot take it.” I say breathlessly. Her smile is knowing, maternal, and sure.
“You will, child. It is both a gift and a comfort. I pray that you take this piece of the Isle with you to your new home.”
My eyes sting as the truth of her words sink into me. I nod graciously, hoping that no one sees this crack in my composure as I don the Lady’s cloak and fasten it at my clavicle. Its wide hood fans out behind me, and I pull my braid free of the fabric.
The Lady travels with us to the eastern shore. She whispers quiet reassurances to me as we walk, hand in hand.
“I never dreamed of leaving here, Lady,” I say to her. Her hand fastens tighter around my own.
“Netta, sometimes we do not dream our destinies. We must live them to know they were what we needed.” She looks to each of my bonded ahead of us. They speak in quiet tones, taking in the sights of the land before we leave.It could have been nice to linger here, to get to know each other in this sacred space,I think. The Lady’s words break my wandering thoughts.
“The Isle will remain your home. But you’re bonded, they too can be that for you. If you choose.”
When we reach the sands, a small flat craft awaits us. A long pole is propped against it, and I know this vessel is for us. The waters between the Isle and Elemyr are shallow, and the journey isn’t long. One can punt across the clear water smoothly. I press my head to the Lady’s, one last time. To bolster me, to quiet my quaking spirit…to say goodbye to the only mother whose face I can imagine.
“Naedra keep you, my child.” Her voice is warm as she bids us farewell.
My lip quivers, but I lift my chin. Chiron boards first and reaches his hand out to steady both Wren and me on the small boat. We are bound for the Nanburrow Forest, the shortest crossing between the Isle and Elemyr.
I stand at the prow, and when I look back, the hooded figure of the Lady on the misty shore cracks my resolve. One silent tear falls as my Isle shrinks behind me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Vonetta
The Forests of the Isle of Women are a tranquil place. Small and teeming with small animals and birds, the occasional herd of deer travels the icy pass in winter and keeps with us through spring. Nanburrow Forest is something else entirely.
Looking over the narrow shoulders of Wren, I can see on his map that Nanburrow covers the western border of Elemyr. It feels formidable in its size, and its terrain is unfamiliar to me. The forest floor varies significantly over short distances. Whole swaths of land appear washed away by flood. Our pace is slow as we navigate the landscape. Chiron guides us easily across fallen trees and under heavy, dangling limbs. His demeanor is amiable, and he pleasantly recounts his journey to the Isle two days prior. “Nanburrow is a fine pass, more exciting than the plains, but not a place for a steed or a large group either.” He explains.
Wren keeps his eye on either the map or the sky, nodding his understanding and thanks to Chiron when he assists our crossings.
The walk is arduous after weeks spent in the sanctuary rather than the gardens, and I do my best to keep pace with them. Seeing them both now together brings perspective; they are both tall men, but not much taller than me, a hand’s width perhaps. I deeply regret the gown I donned earlier this day, because I have to take extra care not to become caught in brush or burr.
My limbs ache from their use. My muscles strain with each climb, and shudder with each downslope. When next Chiron holds my passage under a fallen young tree, he says, “My Lady, a path for you.” With the same tone and smile as this morning. This subtle, cheeky remark is not unlike our meeting in the cave this morning. I imagine this charmed Prince does well with his smiles and courtly lines that bring warmth to my cheeks. The forest feels smaller now, but no less foreboding.
The sun is well behind the trees when Wren consults the map and suggests we make camp for the night.
“If we stop here, we’ll make it out of the forest by midday tomorrow.” He tells us, pointing out where he has determined we are in the tiny drawn trees.
Chiron looks into the distant trees ahead and at the placement of the sun and speaks with determination,
“We can keep on. We could make it out by nightfall and retreat to a real bed." Both men turn towards me, seemingly for a response.
I feel uneasy under their questioning eyes. I could perhaps continue on—but I yearn for stillness. This day has taken more than just a physical toll on me. I straighten before I respond,
“This day has been long; I’d appreciate the rest.” They both nod their assent, and I take a measured, relieved breath. I’ve never coexisted with men for this long, and I had wondered how they might respond to my needs. I am cautiously soothed by their easy agreement.
Chiron determines the best spot to place our small camp and gathers wood for kindling a fire. It takes some time to trade supplies amongst ourselves, our bags packed not for the individual but for our shared journey.
