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“I don’t know,” she said softly. “But for now, I’m waiting for a boy to bury his mother. And that’s my main concern.”
Shamefaced, he looked away. “We didn’t know Ronna was out hunting a little kid.”
“And now you do.” Gia sank to the crowd, folding her legs in front of her.
The men drifted away, back to their makeshift camp.
And Gia waited.
“WE’RE DONE.”
She’d drifted. Not to sleep, but into her memories, the veil between this life and her first growing thin as she let herself fully sink into the feelings Sorin aroused within her.
She’d found herself standing in a forest, her forearm at his throat while she snarled at him over a blade.
“That blade was my mother’s.”
Shaking her head to clear away a memory that felt like it was from only yesterday, she looked into Wyn’s clear blue eyes. “Hello, young sir.”
He grinned at that, the sight welcome on his normally somber features.
“We’re done,” Wyn said again, and this time, he offered a hand.
She eyed it with amusement, then slowly accepted. His strength was surprising but the past few days had showed more than a few surprising things about the boy. He might well grow into his power sooner rather than later. As he helped haul her to her feet, she made herself, and Amy, yet another promise. “I’ll take care of him, Amy.”
Wyn gazed up at her with solemn eyes as he tucked his hand into hers. “Sorin says it will take time but when he’s done, what Mum did won’t ever be forgotten. People will remember. Even if the war comes, people will know she was a human who did the right thing.”
He dunked his head, chin to his chest for a long moment. “War is coming, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so, Wyn. But you don’t need to worry—Sorin and I will take care of you. And that big, grouchy dragon can handle anything, even a war.”
“Even you?” He looked like the boy he was for a minute.
Gia smiled. “I might even be able to handle him.”
They stepped into the cabin and Gia squeezed Wyn’s hand at the sight of the funeral cairn, built entirely of stone.
“You did well, Wyn.”
“Sorin says he’ll make it into dragonstone.” Wyn’s voice hitched. “And...” He stopped, then shook his head. “No. I want you to see it, but not yet. You will. Once we’re done.”
“Done...?”
Sorin only shook his head before moving to pick Wyn up. “Say goodbye, Wyn. And remember, she’s always with you.”
“Like your mum?” Wyn darted a look at Sorin.
“Yes. Like my mum. It took a while to remember that, but she’s always with me. Just like your mum will always be with you.”
Wyn looked at the cairn again, then turned and tucked his face into Sorin’s neck. “I’m ready.”
Sorin walked over, rested a hand on her shoulder.
Gia stared at the stone marker, her throat tight. She wondered what had passed between the boy and the dragon, but tucked the wonderings aside, grief tightening her throat.
Then, putting her hand in Sorin’s free one, she let him lead her out of the house.
They moved to the edge of the clearing, standing on the edge of the trench.
