Page 14 of The Ashborn

Kienna picked at the food in front of her. “I’m Kienna.”

Fenlo gave a subtle nod. “Kienna, yeah? Good t’have you around.”

They turned back to their own table to wait for their meals. Kienna grasped Fenlo’s arm. “Maybe you could tell me more about the woodcarver—I mean, Master Calder.”

She needed to understand. Kienna couldn’t quite determine whether he was the woodcarver Maren told her to find. He didn’t seem like it. He was a broken man who used to do great things but lost his touch to the dreaded hands of time. She was in no position to ask him to guide her, nor would she ask if he had a letter for her. What she could do was learn about him. If he was broken, she needed to know why. What could break a man so desperately that he’d turn to drinking to cope? Would that be her future, too, if she didn’t find a way to heal herself?

Fenlo, Eban, and Harn looked at each other and moved to Kienna’s table.

—Moira—

Tislin led Moira up the stairs of a boarded building next to The Elarent House. It smelled of mildew, and the ceiling leaked, which made her hesitant, but the owner said he’d give her and Kienna a fair price if they rented the apartment upstairs. Moira gladly agreed since she had nothing better to do besides work and fix it.

“It has three rooms, like you asked,” Tislin said. She’d reveal why to Kienna in due time, but explaining the child would require explaining the father, and she wasn’t ready to give Rhior shape yet. For now, she was grateful she had hidden her secret for yet another day.

He swung open the door, and Moira walked in. She looked around, trying hard to picture it as anything but desolate. Floorboards were missing; others jutted up. Good. That could be Kienna’s project. The walls were built with old brown brick, its surface uneven from years of settling. They would need fresh mortar. Maybe Tislin would help her with that. Wooden beams formed the structural frame and remained exposed. To her left was an open cooking area with a long table.

Moira squealed. She’d never had an open cooking area.

Two rooms were built to Moira’s right, and the third room connected to the kitchen. Across from Moira was a glass door to a terrace overlooking the lake. The view alone made renting this place worth any money they’d pay the landlord. Moira clasped Tislin’s hand, shocking him as he took a sharp breath, and she pulled him outside, careful not to trip over any of the bulging planks on the floor.

Staring back at her, with a full sun and breeze, was the Lysiria. The sea welcomed her with the melody of seagulls and waves crashing onto the shore. From there, shipmasters called to each other, unloading and reloading boats. Where did they go from Dove Port when they set sail? Where did the Lysiria lead them that made being a shipmaster so fruitful?

Moira breathed in the salty air. “It’s better than I could have asked for, Tis.”

An imaginary force pulled at Tislin’s lips. “I knew the sun would hit perfectly.”

Moira’s heart drummed in her chest. The warm sun on her skin made her glow with soft hues of orange. If she wanted to right now, she’d summon the clouds and try to walk on them. She’d better not, though. Clouds were fickle little things, and one misstep would have her falling from the sky or conjuring a full-blown storm.

“What are you thinking about?” Tislin leaned forward, studying Moira’s warm smile.

“Clouds,” Moira laughed. “What about you?”

Tislin’s eyes danced around the features of her face. She could tell he wanted to read her like a book. She’d let him if the impending thoughts of her husband didn’t interfere. Her left hand reached for her right, twirling the golden ring sitting on her pinky finger.

In a perfect world, Tislin would be the father of her baby.

Moira exhaled deeply, turning back to the sun. “Do you think Kienna will like it here? It’s sort of…”

“I imagine Kienna does not care where she lives.”

That much was true. Kienna would live in the forest if Moira let her. “Thank you, Tis. Truly. Once I find furnishings for it, we’ll have you for dinner.”

“I’ll take care of your furniture, Sunbeam,” Tislin said, shifting his back to the sun.

“Oh, no, no. I couldn’t possibly⁠—”

“I’d like to take care of you.” Tislin brushed her arm. Air caught in her throat. “You cannot sleep on the floor, and I do not have to worry about these things for myself. Please. Let me worry about them for you.” He paused and gazed into Moira’s eyes. “And Kienna, of course.”

Moira smiled. “Of course. For Kienna’s sake, I’ll let you do it.”

Moira found an old broom tucked away in the privy room after Tislin left to broker deals for mattresses. She was relieved to see a privy room with a tub for washing. The copper tub sat cold in the corner, dulled to a lifeless brown with oxidized streaks of pale green along its rim. Years of dust clung to the basin, but it was no bother. Moira would polish it up again, find the water source, and soak in a long bath.

She ran her fingers along the rim, its greenish layers flaking at her touch. She’d have to do more elbow work than she’d thought. The cold metal turned warm at her touch, pulsing with a strange heat, almost as if it remembered something. Her stomach fluttered with tiny kicks, and Moira inhaled sharply as the room vanished around her.

A cliff of black stone appeared, the wind screaming while flinging snow and ash through the sky. Below, a ring of giants in fur and bronze raised axes to the storm, their chants echoing like thunder through the mountains. In front of her stood Broan. Red light seared across his temple like a jagged bolt of lightning. The wind bent around him. Moira gasped.

Before she could react to the sight of him, the ground cracked, and blood-splattered antlers of a giant moose rose from the snow. They were near mountains, the jagged spires crumbling. The ring of warriors stood more than a foot taller than Moira. She cowered before them as their axes rose in the air to slaughter the moose. Staggering backward, she was thrust forward again by her child. The little girl stood next to her as tears formed in Moira’s eyes.