Page 247 of Keldori By Daybreak

“Mom—”

“I know,” she said hurriedly. “I’m sorry. I just wish your grandmother was here to see you. She’d be so proud, Wren.”

“I know.”

I fell into her one last time, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to leave a part of me here in this moment forever so that I could come back to it whenever I needed a hug from my mom.

I’d lost Gams. Nothing would change that. The year that had passed had not dulled my grief, and each day that I woke up without her was a fresh nightmare and a fresh wound.

But Mom had taken every day as a challenge to fill the emptiness Gams had left behind. She never would. No one could. Mom knew that. Yet she tried, even as she shouldered the burden of her own grief.

She’d lost her mother after all, and as horrible as losing my grandmother had been, I couldn’t imagine anything worse than losing a mother.

I hugged her tighter, hoping that if she ever needed a hug from her daughter, she too could come back to this moment.

A haunting melody struck up behind me, carried by Odharnait’s lilting voice. Ciarán’s uncle joined in, then Mom, until those who had gathered on the street all sang the farewell song of Darragh’s Watch.

I stepped back towards the truck, smiling through bittersweet tears. Mom followed me to the passenger door, and kissed my cheek through the open window.

Ciarán climbed in behind the wheel after throwing the last of my bags in the back, and his shoulders heaved with a final sigh.

I waved at Fana and Orla as Ciarán put us in reverse, and pulled away from the curb. We kept the windows down so that the farewell song followed us as far as it could up the hill towards the main road.

I tried to settle in my seat and ignored my mounting nerves by diving into the paper bag of bagels between us.

“You did make me the salmon bagel,” I accused. “I thought you’d already cut the avocado.”

“You got lucky. Ronald came in and ordered avocado on an everything bagel.” Ciarán reached across the middle seat to put his hand on my knee. “And I know salmon was Ethel’s favorite.”

I nodded. “It was.”

He squeezed my knee.

“Wren Warrender, future PhD of volcanology,” he purred. “I like that.”

“Ciarán Ahltira, future-building-maker sounds good too,” I quipped.

“Architects don’t make buildings, we design them. And you can’t call me Ciarán. I’m enrolled as Liam Glass.”

“Fine. But when it’s just the two of us, I’m still going to call you Ciarán.”

“That’s quite alright with me, my Lady.” He grinned, and then frowned. “You’re nervous.”

Damn mental tether.

“And you’re not?” I asked. “You took an entire year off school. What if you forgot everything you learned freshman year and have to redo it?”

“I’m more worried about my classmates asking questions about my hair color.” The way he laughed showed off his canines. “You know you have nothing to worry about, right?”

He let go of my knee to take my hand in his. I hadn’t noticed I’d started to pull at the short hairs at the base of my neck.

“Yes. And no. I don’t think my body knows the difference between starting at a new school and being hunted for sport.”

We pulled onto the highway and the mountains rose up ahead. It almost felt like I was back in Skalterra, looking at the Sentinels on the distant horizon.

“You’ve survived the latter, so I’m sure you’ll manage the former.” Ciarán grinned. “Some people travel across foreign continents. You traveled across a foreign plane of existence. Twice. You fought barons, and armies, and monsters, and a murderous fungal colony. And none of those even start to compare to the worst villain you ever faced.”

“And who was that?”