Page 57

But once again, I failed.

Then I compounded that sin by hurling myself at a man I’m not married to, discarding the only thing I have left. My family pride.

I guess today’s actions proved Father right again. I’m useless.

And not for the first time either. I failed to save that baby too. Little Stark. I hear the hush of his cries every second of the day. Agnar told the truth when he claimed the alicorn was infected with some unhealable disease. I hate that he was right, hate that I couldn’t see the reality myself, but with distance, I realize my insistence on saving the mare was a way of redeeming myself for my failure with Stark and the refugees.

Only to fail again, like I always do. And then I took my pain and anger out on Agnar, who was only trying to save my life. I am a miserable void of a person who breaks everything she touches.

I hang my head between my knees. The cold night wind bites through me. I should drop my cloak and let the wind freeze me to an ice block, but I draw the warm wool tighter around me instead. Because I’m a pampered, sheltered fool of a girl, like Agnar says.

“Hey.” Agnar’s voice cuts into my despondent internal spiral, and though I debate on ignoring him so I can continue wallowing, I tilt my head to the side just enough to peer at him with one eye.

“We need more pika meat. Want to hunt some with me?”

I frown. Agnar has never invited me to go hunting or scavenging before. Why now? Is this pity? I don’t want his pity, not after what I did to him.

“I don’t know how to hunt. I’d just slow you down.”

“I bet your Warden senses will help me find prey faster than I could on my own.”

I shake my head, despair settling over my shoulders like a cloak.

Fabric rustles as Agnar rises, and his footsteps thump softly as he approaches me. He grips my arms and none too gently pries them away from my legs, hauling me to my feet in the same motion. “Come on. It’s better than sitting around moping. I won’t take no for an answer.”

I glare up at him, but the expression contains more exhaustion than bite. I don’t have the energy to fight with him right now. “Fine.”

“Good. Let’s go.” Agnar releases me to draw his dagger as he guides us away from our campsite and deeper into the trees. “Tell me when you sense something.”

I sigh, tempted to lead him astray as petty revenge for dragging me along, but hunger tickles my insides. We haven’t had fresh meat in a few days. So I take a deep breath, lock away my emotions, and locate the calm center from which Warden powers should emanate. My shame wars with me, demanding I replay the scene with the alicorn over in excruciating detail, but after a moment, I accept I couldn’t change what happened. I don’t make peace with the event, exactly, but I acknowledge that I did all that I could. It’s important that I at least tried to help her.

As calm overtakes my body, I sink a tendril into the land and allow it to spread through the forest’s interconnected root system. I don’t become one with the woods, but I briefly travel with the grubs and ants that skuttle through the earth. I leap through the brush as a young doe tagging after her mother. I trundle after a tasty nut as a fat pika, intent on accessing the succulent flesh under the hard shell.

“There.” I point in the pika’s direction.

Agnar whips his wrist forward, and his dagger flies from his hand into a bush to our left. It hits its target with a thump, and the pika disappears from my awareness like it never existed. I flinch, a distant ping of sympathetic pain touching my stomach.

Wardens, despite being tied to the land and its animals, are not vegetarian. We believe that death fuels life, and we honor the animals we hunt by using the whole of them so that their sacrifice is not in vain. I whisper a small thanks to the pika, low enough that Agnar can’t overhear.

As Agnar goes to collect the pika, I sense another presence. I pivot my mind toward it, pushing a cautious greeting in that direction, but Agnar distracts me when he returns from the bush with the pika held triumphantly over his head.

“We’re going to sleep well tonight with this in our bellies.” Agnar grins and ties the pika’s feet to his belt with a leather thong.

“Every time I close my eyes, I hear Stark screaming.”

My heart stops, and I nearly choke. I did not mean to say that. He doesn’t need to hear about my problems. Personal confessions only make other people uncomfortable.

“Me too.”

Do I believe him? I’m not sure. Then again, he was the one who got to know the boy. I thought the toddler was a baby girl until Agnar corrected me. “I’ll likely also see the alicorn crying in my dreams.” Agnar grunts and watches the trees in silence for a beat as the tree frogs sing their songs around us. “Are you ever going to tell me what you were doing?”

“What are you talking about?”

Agnar wiggles his fingers in the air. “When your hand started glowing. What was that?”

I keep forgetting he doesn’t know much about Warden powers. “I was using my Warden abilities, a healing touch most can do as easily as they breathe. I’ve always…struggled with it.”

Agnar sets off farther into the woods, searching for more prey. “So Wardens are…like animal caretakers?”