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Slowly, she peeked her head around the corner to find Sunweave treading through fallen leaves, nose to the ground. And then her hope deflated when she spotted the empty saddle. Her eyes burned again.
“I don’t think anyone wants to become a widower on their wedding day.”
His words from earlier blazed through her mind. So quickly, she may have lost her own husband and become a widow. Again. But this time, it hurt. Immensely.
An ache sat heavy on her chest as she instructed the girls to stay put as she laboriously pushed herself to her feet. Each of her frozen joints creaked in protest, and her limp nearly collapsed her to the forest floor. But she pushed through the pain, the anxiety, as she approached the horse.
But when she reached for the reins, Sunweave nickered softly and danced just out of reach. A frown on her face, she reached for the creature again, only for it to turn completely and trot away. The horse stopped before a cluster of barren trees and turned its head slightly to look back at her with large black eyes.
Follow me, Sunweave seemed to say.
Nyana gasped as she limped after the creature without hesitation. Her momentary hope chased away the aches in her body as she trudged through thick leaves, weaved in and out of trees, and followed across a small stretch of frozen stream. Only then did Sunweave stop.
She nearly expected to find Joel rushing toward her.
He didn’t.
Sunweave nickered again, pawing at the ground and kicking up leaves.
Only to unveil a familiar brown boot hidden beneath the foliage.
“Joel,” she sobbed as she stumbled toward him, where he sat against a tree. “Joel!”
She tripped when her bad leg refused to hold her weight, landing on wet, decaying leaves between his legs. She brushed leaves off his feet, his legs, and out of his hair before grabbing each side of his face and shaking him gently. He groaned, but the sound only spurred her relief.
A bolt protruded from his right shoulder, blood soaking the entire right side of his clothing. Another burst of relief washed over her. It hadn’t hit anything serious. Yet, blood loss could still kill him. She needed to get him somewhere safe.
Shouts echoed in the distance, and her gaze darted toward the expanse of empty forest. It might not remain empty for long. “Can you walk?”
He opened his eyes and grimaced. “Do I have a choice?”
“No.” She wrapped her hands around his arm and attempted to heave him to his feet. He was much larger and heavier than her, but together, they managed the feat. When she turned him toward the horse, she inhaled sharply in surprise to find Sunweave crouched down as if anticipating their needs.
Joel chuckled but then groaned again as if the action pained him. “Did Maisy saddle the horse? The saddle will slip right off. It’s barely hanging on.”
“Then get on behind it.” She took a step forward, but her leg collapsed from beneath her, and she nearly took Joel down with her. A laugh-sob escaped her mouth, buried beneath layers of fear as she heard the shouts of the men growing closer. The two of them were pitiful.
As loose as the saddle was, Joel managed to push it higher toward the horse’s neck, and the two of them climbed up behind it. Sunweave stood. Her balance tipped, and she gasped as she tightened her arms around Joel’s waist to keep from falling off the creature.
They barely managed to remain upright, especially as Sunweave started forward at a pace between a walk and a trot.
“Can you manage an illusion?” she murmured as she spotted his flute in his waistband, overly aware of her flaming cheek pressed against his back, their heartbeats separated by only a few layers of clothing.
“I can’t lift my arm.”
She tightened her grip on him. “What do you need?”
“Music.” His voice broke around layers of agony. “It doesn’t have to be my own.”
Nyana swallowed, realizing she couldn’t play the flute, and she hadn’t sung anything, not even hummed a tune, in at least six years. But she closed her eyes and concentrated on memories of her childhood. Of laughter and love. Happiness and hope.
And she began to sing.
Shock took her by surprise as she felt him latch onto her song with his magic. Her words faltered, but then she forced her voice to remain steady as he sucked more and more from her. Drawing from her music.
A shimmering, protective barrier weaved around them as the illusion hid them from view, similar to when he’d attempted to hide her from view from Liam and his soldiers many years ago. The tracks behind them vanished. Any signs of their existence scattered with the wind.
Just as they reached the half-frozen river, snow began to fall from white skies. The fine powder dusted her eyelashes and clung to her hair. Aside from her singing, the world became quiet as if a moment of peace descended upon the forest.
