Page 18 of Keldori By Daybreak

I clamped my mouth shut, but angry, restrained magick jumped in my fingertips. I’d always listened to my mom. She’d never given me a reason not to. At least, not until recently. Not until I discovered that the closet in my grandmother’s workshop led to an alternate world.

“Then I suppose all we need next is a Lyrian,” Aoife continued. “Might be difficult, considering they’re all hiding in the Lost City.”

“Not the dead Lyrguard’s granddaughter,” Ciarán said. “She left the Lost City with Wren and her friends.”

“The Lyrguard who first called you to Skalterra?” Mom scowled. If Galahad wasn’t already dead, I was sure she’d hunt him down herself for daring to turn her daughter into his Nightmare.

“That was her grandpa. Iseult had nothing to do with that,” I said. “She traveled with us to the Second Sentinel. She might still be there.”

“Ferrin killed her grandfather. If she’s still there, I can’t imagine it’s under friendly circumstances.” Ciarán leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “But the Lady Quill should be able to help us find where they keep their prisoners in the mountain.”

The floor lurched, and voices called out in surprise in the next room over, but the earth settled as quickly as it had woken up, leaving a dusty silence hanging in the air.

Mom stood over me with her hands braced against the wall, as if prepared to shelter me should the entire building come crashing down.

A strange magnetic pull tugged lightly at my stomach. It reminded me of my tether to Ciarán’s mind, but instead of linking me to a brooding Grimguard, I felt mass, heat, and tectonic power boiling on the other end. Pressure and destruction churned behind an invisible wall, pushing on my heart and lungs, threatening to—

“We’re alright, we’re alright! It was just an aftershock from the earthquake!” Aoife’s assurances pulled my attention back to the kitchen and the strange tether evaporated, leaving me sweating and out of breath.

“Ciarán,” Sorcha hissed. Ciarán had grabbed her to keep her upright in the aftershock, and she patted his chest. “Find Lady Fireld and Lady Quill. You leave for the Second Sentinel at sunrise.”

“Fana and Orla both get to go?” I asked.

“They’ll need three Sovereigns to close the Rift,” Sorcha clipped. “So Lady Fireld, Lady Quill, and Eliza will all be needed in Keel Watch Harbor.”

Mom straightened up and adjusted her bathrobe without looking at me. “Speaking of Keel Watch Harbor, Aoife, I can’t protect it while I’m here. Send me back, please, before Ferrin shows up while I’m here.”

“Mom—” I tried to stand, but Ciarán put a hand on my shoulder to keep me in place.

“I’ll see you soon, Wren. You’re safe here. Okay? Aoife?”

Aoife bowed her head, and her braid crown fell loose to swing forward over her shoulder. “You are released from my service, my Lady.”

In the half-moment before my mother collapsed in a pile of dust and used-up Skal, her eyes met mine. She gave me the tiniest shake of her head, a silent warning to obey, or else, and then she was gone.

5. Leadership

Siobhan’s soup was frustratingly delicious, but my stomach pain and mounting anxiety only let me eat so much of it. I stirred at the potato-filled dregs left in my bowl, alone in the kitchen on my wooden chair. The others had dispersed shortly after Mom left so that they could all prepare for what would happen next.

They were going to leave me.

Ciarán, Orla, Fana, and Sabrina.

In just a few hours, they’d head out on their quest to free Iseult, find the secret doorway home, and reseal Gams while I packed up to run and hide with the rest of Darragh’s Watch—a bunch of strangers that I recognized, but none of which remembered me despite their eagerness to bow in my wake.

Their silhouettes shifted and moved on the other side of the hearth’s dying flames. The fire would be reduced to coals soon. They’d be able to see me lurking in the kitchen through the hearth, but I hadn’t gathered the courage yet to make a break for the stairs.

I would need to soon. I had things to do if I wanted to help Gams.

A woman from Darragh’s Watch started up a song in a language I didn’t understand, but her haunting croon made the uneven hairs on the nape of my neck stand up. The other villagers turned their attention her way, some of them adding their voices to the song, so I took the chance to make a break for the stairs.

Ciarán stood in the corner of the main hall farthest from the kitchen, but he was too busy entertaining a small crowd of kids to see me hobbling towards the dark stairwell. His mouth moved in time with the song as children pulled on his arms and begged for his attention, but he was too far and the other voices too loud for me to hear what his singing voice might sound like.

I bowed my head before he could sense me watching. The music, melancholy yet driven, spurred me towards the shadow of the stairs and solidified my resolve.

Mom wanted me to stay with Sorcha and the people of Darragh’s Watch while Ciarán saved Gams, and I had never disobeyed Mom.

Never.