She looked at me, unsure.
“Wren,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. “We just learned an entire enclave of our kind exists beyond the sea. We know nothing about them, and even less about her. We are about to become parents.”
“Who better than someone who has already raised three drakens?” she shot back.
Nerissa snorted from behind us.
“Your other two children. What are their names?” Wren asked Nerissa, stopping on the path and batting a large leaf away from her face. The jungle was still thick in many places; we’d have to keep working on carving pathways.
“Vanca and Nava,” Nerissa responded wistfully, a faraway look in her eyes.
Females. The wind shifted along with the tide. I could practically feel the unmated males salivating behind me, tensing with the news.
We made it to the bottom of the treehouse, Wren exhaling heavily and sitting down for a break.
“I can carry you–” I began, but she just glared at me.
Kieran grinned as he and Ronan raced each other straight up the tree’s trunk and bypassed the steps completely.
Speaking of children.
Nerissa’s head lifted at that. “The wards near my island are weakening; we do not have enough drakens and witches to anchor them, I think. The storms are changing. That’s how Anar slipped through. He shouldn’t have been able to. I noticed your wards look similar.”
I tensed. “There is nothing wrong with our wards.”
Nerissa’s eyes narrowed.
“Go ahead up. Kieran and Ronan will meet you. I need a longer rest,” Wren said to her, her smile brittle.
Nerissa ascended the stairs without arguing.
“If anyone knows about blood wards, it would be a bloodwitch,” Wren challenged.
“She didn’t grow up as one. And nobody knows wards better thandrakens,” I argued back, but it felt weak.
Wren’s hand came to rest on her belly, protective andsure. “We can’t hide forever. Peace doesn’t last if it’s built on isolation.”
She lifted her arms toward me, a silent plea to be carried, a peace offering.
I gathered her in my arms and carefully went up the steps, relishing the feel of her body against mine.
Inside the treehouse, Nerissa was already deep in a tactical discussion with Kieran and Ronan. I lowered Wren into a bed of cushions and she smiled gratefully, stretching out and snuggling into the blankets.
“The sea gave him back untouched,” Kieran was saying. “No rot. Not even the current could claim him. Whatever took him was clean. Precise.”
“Magick?” I asked.
Nerissa’s lips thinned. “Bloodmagick, perhaps, but not ours.”
A chill rippled through the treehouse, dispelling the heat of the jungle long enough to raise the fine scales at the base of my neck.
“Should we have examined him further?” I asked, stomach flipping.
Always the wrong choice. You will never get it right.
I shook my head, trying to push the fearful thoughts away.
Nerissa waved me away. “I know my son. I saw enough.”
