An old woman, one who had spoken before, said, “He belongs to this place. He cannot leave it, not without a queen to help him cross. One helped him cross long ago, or so the stories say. We have awaited his return—and the coming of a queen—for many lifetimes.”
Ven wanted to ask more questions. Had Merecot been right? Was Bayn some kind of “evolved spirit”? How long ago had he crossed? And what queen had helped him? He was certain it hadn’t been Daleina or Fara.I would’ve known if either had ever left Renthia.Exactly how old was Bayn? Was “lifetimes” literal or hyperbole?And why were they waiting for him? And for a queen?There were no queens in the untamed lands—that was part of the very definition.If they wanted a queen, they should have come to Renthia.
He wished Bayn could speak.
“Please,” Naelin said. “My children.”
Bayn trotted away from them, looking back once, and then breaking into a loping run. Ven and Naelin ran after him. From behind them, he heard the people calling, “Don’t leave!” “Help us!” “We need you!” And: “Come back for us! Don’t forget us!” And also: “We hope you find your children! Good luck!”
He waved once to show he’d heard them, and then all his focus was on chasing Bayn across the uneven landscape. Thunder crackled in the sky above them as blue and purple clouds mixed. Rain spattered his face.
Naelin’s spirits flowed around them, smoothing the way—stifling a fire, diverting a river, filing a chasm—as they followed Bayn. Ahead, through the rain, Ven saw a cave leading into a gray rock that loomed out of the haze. Running faster, Naelin scrambled over the rocks calling, “Erian! Llor!”
And they came. Erian and Llor, out of the cave, across the rocks, and throwing themselves into Naelin’s arms. Laughing. Crying.
Alive.
My children!
Dropping to her knees, Naelin held out her arms, and her children ran into them. She felt their warm bodies impact against her. She stroked their hair. Breathed them in, sweat and smoke and the sweetest smell that only came from the two lives she’d brought into the world. Rain fell around them, and she wasn’t even sure any of it hit them... or if she cared that it did. “You’re alive,” she whispered into their hair. “You’re here.”
Llor sniffled into her neck, and Erian was clinging to her so tightly that Naelin felt her fingers pressing deep into her skin, bruising her, but she didn’t care. She held her close.
“Mama, you came for us!” Erian said.
“I knew you’d come!” Llor said. “I said so!”
“I didn’t believe it,” Erian declared. “I thought you wouldn’t come to look for us, because you’d think we were dead. No one survives the untamed lands. Everyone knows that. I thought we’d be trapped here forever, until wediddie.”
Llor buried his face against her again. “Bayn wouldn’t bring us home.”
Naelin held them close. “I came. I’m here. We’ll never be apart again.” She felt relief and joy—pure joy—spilling out of her, flooding the spirits, and felt it mirrored back. Around her, the earth exploded in life: flowers blossoming over the face of the rocks, trees bursting between the crevasses thickening as they shot toward the sky. She heard the rushing of water and felt sunlight flood their faces as her spirits drove back the haze and filled the land in a ring around them with life, teeming with a riot of colors.
Beyond it, she felt the spirits of the untamed lands drawing closer. She felt their hostility, scratching at the edges of their circle of overabundant life, and she shuddered and hugged her children and Ven closer.No.The outside world couldn’t intrude yet. This was her moment of joy, a moment she’d never thought she’d have. She didn’t want it to end.
“The villagers said Bayncouldn’tbring you home—he couldn’t cross the border,” Ven said, laying one hand on Erian’s shoulder and another on Llor’s. “But we can. And we will.”
Naelin turned to Bayn. “Thank you for saving them.”
The wolf sat, with his tail curled beside him, watching them with his yellow eyes. He made a doglike whining noise.
“What is it?” Ven asked, as if he expected Bayn to answer.
At his question, the wolf rose and trotted into the cave.
“What’s in there?” Naelin asked Erian and Llor.
“A dead body,” Llor said. “It’s kind of neat.”
That was not an appropriate thing to say about a dead body. And why were her children staying in a cave with a corpse anyway? “I’m a terrible mother,” Naelin murmured.
“You came,” Erian said simply, hugging her waist as she stood.
Ven drew his sword.
“You won’t need that,” Llor said. “She’s already dead. Come on, we’ll show you.” He scrambled ahead of them, over the rocks.
Naelin felt as if a coat had been ripped away from her on a winter day—suddenly cold, a little bereft, the moment that she was no longer touching both her children. Following Llor and holding on to Erian, who didn’t seem to want to let go of her hand either, Naelin climbed over the rocks up to the opening of the cave. Together, they entered.
