Page 36 of The Ashborn

She always did that, pushing Moira away when things got hard. If Elowen weren’t standing right there, Moira would force the girl to rest like she did their first night in Elowen’s cottage. Instead, she sighed and turned back to their guest. “Come in! We’d love to catch up for a bit if you’re not busy.”

Elowen brushed her dress. “I’ve got just the trick for her. I’ll bring it on my next visit.” She entered the quaint apartment, inspecting it. “I’ll also bring canvases and paint. You girls should be decorating.”

Kienna chugged water near the hearth. Her eyes widened at Elowen’s mention of paint. Moira loved Kienna’s paintings. And her carvings. And her. She sighed emphatically. She really hoped Kienna was okay.

Elowen set the basket on the small table and wandered further into the room, her fingers trailing the edge of the carved windowsill. “This place reminds me of your mother,” she said gently. “She loved to paint like you. You could probably find her work in the alleyways if you looked closely enough. A flower budding into the sun.”

Kienna’s mouth opened to say something, but she didn’t seem to find the words. Moira curled her fingers around her tea. “Kienna’s the same. I catch her staring at a wall like she’s deciding where to leave a piece of her soul. Or figuring if she can carve something into it.” She laughed when Kienna blushed. Moira hoped she knew how special she was, even if it wasn’t for the artistry. Moira’s suspicions of Kienna’s strength remained on high alert every day since her baby started feeding her visions.

Elowen fixed her attention on Kienna for a moment. “She carries more of her mother than her hands.”

A quiet hum filled the room. Tislin stood behind them stoically. Moira appreciated when he allowed them space to talk, even when it meant saying things that went against his people...or half his people. Tislin’s mother was, in fact, human.

Elowen turned to Moira. “You have Solene’s steadiness, too.”

Moira swallowed. Her smile lingered, but the warmth in it dimmed. “Do you remember what happened to them? My parents?”

Elowen’s eyes softened at the edges. “I do.”

“I don’t,” Moira whispered. “I was five when they died. I should have those memories, but they were stolen. Tislin said I was in the water when King Vaerin took me.”

Tislin stepped forward. “The Elvish were as responsible for their deaths as Vaerin. The uprising sparked the Great War.”

Moira sat with this in silence, unsure of what to do with that information. The Elvish were kind to her. Maybe not the queen, but the women who took her in and taught her to weave baskets and use herbs for healing were. They helped her through the growing pains and fears of her pregnancy. They didn’t strike her as anything but gentle. She tried to find anger in her heart. It was unnatural when she couldn’t remember much.

“Elowen,” Kienna said, sitting on the couch and staring at the floor. “Last night, my friend from the workshop mentioned the rebellion. I was hoping you’d be able to answer some questions.”

Elowen sipped her tea with a twinkle in her eye. “I do love questions.”

“Well, see, he said something about the Elvish being brutal rulers, and humans were nearly slaves. But…” Kienna wrung her hands. Moira could see the skin peeling near her cuticles. She’d been picking at them again. “The Elvish have humans on their council. So, I don’t understand.”

“Ah, yes.” Elowen set her tea down. “Do you know how humans get selected for the Elvish council? We most certainly don’t. Humans from each town represent us, but we do not select them.”

“So, what went wrong?” Moira asked, still watching Kienna pick her nails until they bled.

“Well,” Elowen sighed. “For one, the façade of alliance derailed us. The Elvish were given influence over Dove Port once they gained a council member. Not to mention the Great War. Once Vaerin turned on everyone, the war put us on hold⁠—”

Calder Ashfell stood in the doorway. “You be careful what you speak of, or you’ll put a death sentence on these children.”

Moira and Kienna rose. The woodcarver did not look well. Beads of sweat clung to his sickly green skin. His hands trembled, and he winced through every breath as if he were in pain.

“I’ll go find breakfast,” Kienna said immediately, then stormed out of the apartment.

Moira heard from Danek that King Vaerin was Kienna’s uncle. That he killed Kienna’s parents. She couldn’t even fathom what Kienna had wrestled with since River Storm, and hearing people from her parents’ past speaking about this must have been incredibly confusing.

“Tislin, will you go after her?”

Tislin nodded, turning his gaze to the woodcarver. Shadows danced at his feet, but he turned and went out the door. For that, Moira was relieved.

Chapter 14

—Kienna—

Kienna paced. She should have gone back inside. Leaving the woodcarver like that with people he didn’t know was selfish, but her fingers were already bleeding, and she couldn’t stand to face them. The moment her head hit the pillow the night before, she was thrown into a nightmare. King Vaerin found her again, and she was back in a dungeon, suffocating on water and shadows, before she woke.

Ruva tried to calm her. Connak held his word, forcing himself into her mind the minute she didn’t call him, and talked her out of the panic attack. Losing control over her body haunted her, spinning her into a mental spiral. Connak’s presence pulled her back, and she cried in his arms as the song she tried desperately to forget pulsed relentlessly in her brain. Connak’s soothing magic was the only thing that calmed her mind.

When she finally found her steadiness, she ran. Her feet slapped the ground for hours as she barreled through the streets of Dove Port, committing each path to memory. By the end of it, Kienna knew which streets led where, how to get out of dead ends, which walls were easiest to climb over, and places Ruva could hide during the day. She ran, wondering if she would find hints of another woodcarver in Dove Port. She scoured for clues of Maren’s quest for her. She never found any.