Page 86 of Forged in Fading

After another agonizing few hours in the saddle traveling back to the Eskenti settlement, Alvara plopped herself on the nearest bench and gave her leg a much-needed rest. Boden had spent the better part of an hour convincing Chief Frigar to allow them to leave Gosibik so soon after arriving, and now he updated the Eskenti. They flocked to him as soon as he stepped foot in their boundaries, while Heila hurried off toward the refugees.

“A blood oath? That was quite…” the Eskenti leader, Bryn, trailed off as she eyed Alvara, who busied herself with tightening her bandages.

“Brave,” Boden finished, and warmth bloomed in her cheeks. “Because of her, we have somewhere to seek refuge. Anyone who is willing needs to help train the demi-elves. That has to be our first priority. Until they’re under control, they are a danger to everyone around them.”

“We’ll start sending our people into the town and bring what supplies and livestock we can,” Bryn said. She didn’t bother with a farewell before strutting into the crowds with her underlings in tow.

“Go,” Alvara said. “I know you have a thousand things to do. I’m more than happy here. I just need to sit awhile.”

Boden eyed her. “As long as you do your best to avoid any further injuries while I’m in Gosibik. Otherwise Heila may run out of bandages.”

“Yes, Mother.” Alvara rested her head against the wall of whatever building they had stopped outside and closed her eyes, letting her mind drift away from shore into the peaceful, lapping waves of slumber.

“Planning on sleeping out here?”

Alvara stirred at the sound of Ravanel’s voice, which oddly brimmed with much less weary annoyance than usual.

“I’d prefer a bed.” She rubbed her eyes and groaned to her feet. Gods, she sounded like she was five hundred years old.

His gray eyes tracked her movements with what she would almost dare to call interest and…a trace of concern? “Have you eaten?”

“Have I eaten?” she repeated dumbly.

Her stomach grumbled in answer, which seemed enough for Ravanel, who turned without a word, leaving Alvara to limp after him through the busy streets. People young and old had begun to pack their belongings, their entire lives, ready to migrate to the human lands.

Ravanel led her into a small wooden building, where she stopped two steps past the doorway. Worn tables and benches, demi-elves and elves sharing food and each other’s company, just like the food hall in Ilmanir. She couldn’t help but think of Isathir and the other cooks there, the kitchen that had revealed to her so many unexpected truths about Boden. The place where their friendship had started on wobbly legs and slowly gained its footing.

“Are you coming or not?” Ravanel sat at the farthest table from the other chattering voices in the hall, where a jug of water, cups, and two steaming bowls of food waited.

Alvara scooted onto the bench across from him, unable to decide which was the more unexpected event of the past few days—King Einar’s destruction of the magic barrier or Ravanel inviting her to eat with him.

The sight of his missing arm still startled her, so she focused on his pale forehead instead. “You look…great.”

Ravanel leaned back and arched a dark brow. “Really? You too?”

“Fine.” She was rarely one to mince words, and neither was he. And she had a feeling Ravanel was tired of everyone dancing around the topic, too afraid to tiptoe closer. “How much does it make you want to suffocate everyone?”

“It’s damn infuriating.” His fingers curled into a fist around the spoon he held. “And everyone pretends like nothing’s changed.”

“What kind of shifter was it?”

His only reaction to her question was a few, long blinks. It was the closest she had ever seen him to showing even a hint of surprise.

Maybe she had gone too far. “If you don’t want to talk about it⁠—”

“A wolf.” He rolled his shoulder where his arm should have been. “You’re the only one who’s asked.”

“Not even Kat?”

“She’s focused on staying positive. As always.”

Alvara spoke in between bites of food, each taste breathing small bits of life into her battered body. “She means well. She just doesn’t know how to help. And your father? Did he…?”

Ravanel scoffed. “Alive.”

“And your mother?” Alvara had never seen her, but she must have traveled with them to the settlement.

“Faded.”