I perk up. “Really?”
I rarely receive gifts—I can’t remember the last one I was given.
She smiles, and for a moment, years are wiped off her face. “In the top drawer.”
I slide it open and gasp. A silver amulet attached to a long chain is sitting on top of a book.
“Take it out, Gabriel.”
It’s heavy and strangely cool in my palm. “Grandmother, what?—”
She curls my fingers around it. “You know, they say that some amulets have been blessed, and they can lessen the effect of magic.” She tilts her head, her eyes glistening and her voice lowering to a whisper. “Especially magic like your father’s.”
I shake my head, confusion swirling inside me. “I don’t understand.”
Why is she giving this to me?
“I know, child.” She grasps my hand with surprising strength. “And perhaps I’m wrong and you’ll never need it. But one day, you might.”
After that, Grandmother had asked me to read her a story while she rested her eyes.
A week later, she passed away. I was the only member of our family who attended her funeral.
I shake my head, rubbing my thumb over the amulet’s smooth surface. I have no idea what compelled me to pick it up before the Winter’s Eve Ball, but I’m glad I did. It’s not perfect, and it won’t hide us from the king forever—as evidenced by the ember earlier—but hopefully it will shroud us from his all-seeing eye as we flee.
I slip the chain over my head. The amulet settles against my chest, and I lead Chaos further into the shadowy cave, far enough in that if someone were to pass by, they shouldn’t notice us. Pine needles dust the ground, and there are several piles of dried leaves scattered through the space.
After a quick visual inspection to make sure the small animals that call this cave their home are elsewhere, I hookChaos’s reins on a rock jutting out from the wall and turn to Wren.
“Do you need a hand down?”
Her Mark flares, a shining star that lights up the cavern, before she shakes her head. “No. I’ve got it.”
Her voice is rough after hours of silence, but relief rushes through me at the sound. I’m not sure what to do with that, so in the end, I take a step back and give her space to dismount.
The soft sound of paws padding on the ground draws my attention. Mist trots into the cave with all the awareness of a feline who knows she bows to no one. She plops down to watch the entrance, sitting a fair distance away so as not to spook Chaos. Her tail flicks back and forth, and she lifts a paw, licking it.
Wren takes a deep breath and murmurs an encouragement to herself before getting off the horse. Only, it’s less of a dismount and more of a chaotic tumble. Her arms flail, and her foot catches in the stirrup as she careens headfirst towards the ground.
A scream rips from Wren’s lips, and Chaos rears his head, letting out a panicked whinny that shakes the pebbles.
“Fuck!” I roar, my lungs tightening.
Darting forward, I snatch Wren out of the air a moment before her head smacks into the stone. I hold her close, murmuring calm words to Chaos as my fingers find Wren’s foot, deftly unhooking her.
The moment she’s free, I drag her back. A second later, Chaos kicks. His hoof lands exactly where her head had been.
Gods above, that was fucking close.
My pulse is thundering, and I draw several deep breaths, moving us further into the cave before helping Wren to her feet. She tries to draw her cloak closed with trembling fingers, andher face is a white sheet as she looks beyond me, staring at the horse.
I scan her for injuries, and when I’m certain she’s mostly unscathed and not about to keel over, I put my hands on her shoulders. “Look at me, Wren.”
The air between us is thick, and several beats pass before she complies, her eyes hauntingly empty as they meet mine. “What?”
“You should have let me help you.” That same side of me that wants her close yearns for me to draw her against my chest and comfort her, but I don’t, because the urge is ridiculous. “That’s why I offered to help.”
Her eyes sharpen, and gods, it’s good to see life in them. “You wanted to help me,” she says, her voice hard.
