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No one else had to get hurt because of her.
She took a step back, letting Marcellus’ hand slip through hers. “Thank you. For everything.”
For once, he didn’t argue. She could have sworn something like disappointment pooled in his rich, brown eyes. “Thank me once you come back in one piece.”
A small breath of laughter escaped her. She turned towards her horse.
“Wait.” Marcellus unsheathed his second sword from his belt. It was the same sword she had grabbed during their escape from the Phoenix Sanctuary. He held it out to her. Thicket took her time absorbing the details. It was smaller than the one he used and far more intricate. The pommel was made of glinting golden metal. White leather wrapped around it, accentuated with etching of spiked vines that coiled around the guard and continued on down the blade. “For you.”
She took it wordlessly, shock making her racing mind go blank. It was significantly lighter than the swords she had wielded previously. At the time she had thought it had been her training, but it wasn’t. The quality spoke volumes as it balanced across her palms without so much as even teetering. There was no way he had it since Vindrya. She would have noticed. Then—
“This is what you bought at the market?”
The corner of his lips twitched. “Give it a swing.”
She did. The blade cut through the air with ease, none of the previous resistance weighing her movements down. “Is it enchanted?” It felt so light, and the way it fit in her palm…
Marcellus laughed. “I may have fibbed a bit when I said you needed to become stronger to wield a sword. The sword you grew accustomed to using was far heavier than one you should wield for your size. You would have been fine to use this one at your current strength.”
“Then why make me do all that extra training?”
“Because now, that sword is feeling pretty good, isn’t it?”
Thicket gaped at him. “I thought you said there was no such thing as helpful lies?”
He leaned in close and smirked. “I lied.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Thicket followed the fluttering birds back to the postal outlet she had seen the other day. After securing her horse’s reins, she ducked inside, dodging birds of all sizes and colors as they zipped over her head, their chirping melodies mixing in a chaotic harmony.
“Hello there, Miss,” the shopkeeper said. “How may I help you?”
“I would like to send a letter?” she had meant it as a statement, yet it came out more as a question. She didn’t quite know what to make of all the ink pots and quills and birds flying about.
“By all means.” He gestured towards the desks pushed against the walls, each fit with parchment and quills. “Pick whichever one you like. Ah, but the Passion Quill and Blood Ink will be an extra charge.”
“That’s okay, thank you.”
She settled down on one of the stools and picked up a quill. As she wrote, a memory from her dreams resurfaced. This was the second time she penned a letter to her sister. Only this time, she didn’t need to spill her emotions onto the page in order for this letter’s meaning to get across
Dear Lavender,
You are right. I have been avoiding you. But you have also been avoiding me. I think it is time we both stop running and finally meet each other face to face.
Your sister,
Thicket
Thicket folded the parchment and sealed it before dropping a golden coin into the shopkeeper’s hand. His eyes bulged. “Give this to your fastest bird and send it to the castle in Minloc.”
He hurriedly stuffed the coin into his pockets and whistled, summoning a large bird with dark grayish-brown wings and a spotted white belly. It took her letter in its vibrant yellow talons and flew through the curtains.
Thicket exited the shop in time to see the bird soar into the distance. She waited until it became but a speck in the clouds before mounting her horse.
She would go to Minloc and finally finish what had been started a century ago.
She would give Lavender exactly what she wanted and turn herself in.
