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“We don’t want the same things. He wants to travel. I want to stay put. I don’t think it will work out.”

“Did you talk to him about it?”

“… No.”

“Then how do you know it won’t work out?”

“Because I know him, and I know myself.”

“But you have to at least have the conversation!”

“Why bother?” I ask. “It’ll only be painful for the both of us, and it’ll end whatever good times we’re having right now.”

“You aredreadfulat communication,” Temra says, as though I don’t already know this. “Ziva, talk to the man and see what happens. Have you told him how you feel? Have you asked him to stay with you?”

I duck around a tree, bend over to pick up another log, not answering.

“You haven’t!” she accuses.

“I would never ask him to do something that would make him miserable.” And I’m not about to share my feelings only to have them rejected. Kellyn may have said he loves me, but that doesn’t mean he means to stay with me.

“You both deserve to know your options, though, and you can’t know those if you don’ttalk.”

I scoff. “And I suppose you and Petrik have it all figured out?” It’s a desperate attempt to get the attention off me.

“Yes! We’re going to live in Skiro. Petrik will resume his duties at the library, and I’ll be a guard. We’ll see each other all the time, while still having our own lives.”

“It’s easier for you two! You both want to be in the same geographical area.” Quieter, I add, “I may love Kellyn. He may even love me, but how can we support each other when it means being away from each other all the time?” Him to wander as a mercenary. Me staying put alone in my forge.

“I don’t know,” my sister admits. “But I refuse to believe that a future for the two of you is impossible.

“We will talk,” I assure her. “Kellyn and I. But not yet. There’s no sense until after the threat is past.”

Because if I die in battle, there will be no need for talking.

The journey, for once, is uneventful. We reach Lirasu without so much as a dangerous wild animal sighting.

Skiro and Petrik separate from us to go talk to the local governor.

That leaves me, Temra, and Kellyn to return to the forge.

Home.

As I stare at the yard and the front door, I find myself surprised to see it just as we left it.

There’s the cedar tree trunk on the ground, where I severed it with Secret Eater. The yard is full of dead grasses, the broken chicken coop. A few scraps of cloth that once housed straw dummies.

The front door is unmarred, unbroken.

Though we’ve long lost the key to the house in our travels, it doesn’t take Kellyn long to break down the door.

A thick layer of dust coats everything. Wordlessly, Temra goes to open the windows.

It’s… just as I remember it.

Was I expecting to see it vandalized by Asel’s friends? Find that someone had broken in and settled themselves in our home? Find the whole thing burnt to a crisp in Kymora’s rage?

I’m not sure, but it’s unchanged, which somehow doesn’t seem right with how much my life has changed.

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