“She likes me better than you.”
A low branch met the back of Cedric’s head, and both Tristan and Ollie erupted in a fit of snickers.
“You should watch where you ride, Lord Victor,” she said. “These trees can be quite wily.”
“Mmm, yes, even more so when they’re wielded as weapons by even wilier wildshapers, I think.” Cedric rubbed the back of his head, casting her a sideways look.
Ollie let out a low whistle. “So, if Sid’s a part of you, what does itsay that she prefers the Lord Victor’s company, then?”
Elyria scowled.
“I think it says our fairLadyVictor might want to conduct an examination of her own self-loathing,” answered Tristan.
“Or her split loyalties, at least,” added Ollie, grinning once again.
Two more branches hit their targets withthwacksthat echoed across the trail.
Cedric tried—and failed—to stifle a laugh as Tristan and Ollie fell back to nurse their new matching welts. Elyria didn’t say anything, but he could’ve sworn he saw the tiniest twitch of her lips before she turned forward again.
He would take it.
He would take anything she offered.
They madecamp late in the afternoon in a small clearing, the ground blessedly dry enough for a fire. Cedric had to admit he was impressed with the easy way the group had come together to complete their various tasks each night on the road. Between setting up their campsite and portioning rations, cooking and cleaning and cross-checking the map, everyone seemed to have something to do, and, for the most part, did it without complaint.
Cedric, for one, enjoyed keeping busy. It quieted the increasingly incessant noise in his head, gave him something to do with his hands other than constantly reliving the feeling of Elyria’s skin against them. He was just about to set the last pole of yet another tent when Tristan yanked the stake from his hands, one finger pointing in the direction of the firepit Thraigg was setting up on the far side of the clearing.
“Take a break, Ric,” he said.
So, Cedric took a seat by the would-be fire, where the dwarf was colorfully cursing the flint in his hands. Loosening the straps of his pauldrons and vambraces, Cedric heaped his armor pieces in a small pile next to him, breathing in the crisp air. He could hear Tristan and Ollie arguing over where to place the final tent, saw Jocelyn parsing through saddlebags and tossing supplies to Thibault and Hargrave, watched Sephone and Raefe water the horses with his lip curled.
Sid prowled nearby, stalking a cricket. And though he did try not to at first, it wasn’t long before Cedric’s gaze wandered to who he was really looking for.
Elyria knelt beside a large pine at the perimeter of the clearing, palm outstretched. A wisp of darkness coiled in her hand, blooming into a shadowy sparrow that tilted its head, then lifted into the air and vanished into the trees.
Some minutes later, it returned.
Elyria held out her hand. The bird flitted into her outstretched palm before she lifted it to her ear. Cedric couldn’t hear whatever returning message it carried, but after a few moments, Elyria nodded to herself, and the sparrow dissolved in a puff of smoke.
Sid pranced around her ankles as she walked back toward camp, and wonder propelled Cedric into motion, catching her wrist as she passed. He gently tugged her arm, encouraging her to sit beside him on the grassy ground. She didn’t resist.
“You form them so effortlessly now,” he said, Sid hopping into his lap with a low yowl.
She pursed her lips. “Everything’s been coming more easily lately. It’s strange. My powers felt knotted up for so long, almost...”
“Inaccessible.”
Elyria’s eyes flared wide for a moment before she nodded. “I don’t know if it’s because I’m simply using my shadows more, or if there’s some other reason.” She threw her eyes to the grass in a sudden refusal to meet Cedric’s eye. “I do worry about the reliability of the sparrows as we get farther from the city. The messages are already clipped with as far as we’ve journeyed. Fewer and fewer words can be relayed at a time. But I suppose it’s something that they work at all. That I can do that. That I can do this.”
Cedric watched, awestruck, as Elyria splayed her palm over the grass next to her. The blades parted, revealing a single stem rising from the earth. From it grew a large, tightly curled flower bud, the color of midnight. With a soft hum, Elyria waved her hand, and the bud opened, each dark silken petal unfurling with an accompanying wisp of smoke.
When the flower finished blooming, there was a sphere of pure shadow sitting in its center. A sphere that quickly reshaped itself, splitting,forming a trio of the same shadowy butterflies that had enchanted the children of the Walk.
“What is—” Cedric found himself at a loss for words as the butterflies flitted into the sky on a ribbon of black. Sid leapt from Cedric’s lap in an instant, chasing them, and moments later, the cat and butterflies alike disappeared into the moonlight with apoof.
Cedric returned his mesmerized stare to the flower Elyria now held in her hands.
“First Sid, now this,” he breathed. “How are you doing it?”
