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That was all I needed; all I’d hoped for.
The knowledge that he still fought for me—even while keeping his distance, patched up the holes in my heart and made me smile. “We’ll find a way together.”
He nodded, placing a fist over his chest. “Together.”
Zetas looked between us, sensing our silent communication before sitting on her fluffy rump, throwing her head to the moon, and letting loose a piercing, poignant howl.
I didn’t look at Solin, Tiptu, Tral, Aktor, or the wanderer.
I only had eyes for Darro.
And as everyone retired for the night, I nursed the link between us, keeping that glowing bridge alight, falling asleep with Darro’s murmured whispers chasing me into my dreams where bees danced with moths and the sun and moon finally became one.
Chapter Forty-Six
. Darro .
THE DAY OF THE HUNT.
The camp buzzed with excitement. Dawn had only just broken and already feet dashed from one lupic to another, visiting Leca and collecting fresh spears he’d no doubt carved in preparation.
Runa stood beside Solin, her face drawn and eyes sad.
I didn’t need to use the bridge between us to know today would be hard for her. As part of the leader’s entourage, and the Fire Reader’s successor, she was obligated to go and bless the kills.
The kills had already been designated a purpose: to finish the frame of her and Aktor’s lupic, wrapping it in skin so it became a home.
My hands balled as familiar anger fed through me.
It didn’t matter that the past few days had been some of the better ones. That being able to talk to Runa had eased some of the despair suffocating my heart. The link between us wasn’t constant. It took effort to maintain, especially when Runa was summoned to help with a certain task, or she was buried with facts at her lessons with Pallen.
Every day, she mastered the flames far more easily than flowers and leaves, which confused me because she’d birthed some of those flowers and leaves.
Every evening, I wanted to take her hand and pull her into the grasslands.
I needed to touch her, kiss her, be with her...but each time I found myself marching to where she sat by the fire, I’d shudder with memories of how easily I’d killed those hummingbirds, frogs, and grasshopper.
But now, the hunt was here, and I still hadn’t found a way to break the blood bind or how to control a power I didn’t want.
Zetas yipped as the last of the Nhil hunters slipped into the grasslands, their faces painted with ash for camouflage, their hands carrying their weapon of choice. No one wore clacking beads or clanging decorations, trading prestige for silence as they headed where Runa had said the bison herd would be.
Runa had left at the head of the hunt, dragged unwillingly by Solin who’d slipped into his place behind Tral. Tiptu had stayed behind with her babe and daughter, providing leadership while their hunters were away.
I stood there for a moment, watching the autumn-dying grass sway from the mortals who slinked through their stems.
Should I follow?
Could I keep my power in check?
If I saw them hunting, would I be able to control my shadows so they didn’t join in the slaughter?
Zetas yipped again, dancing on the spot, her tail wagging with impatience. Syn had gone with Runa, trotting beside her with pride. Natim was with Hyath, safe in the clothing-maker’s lupic, while Niya hunted with the others, falling into position beside Leca with a soft smile.
Almost everyone I knew had left.
I hated Runa being out of my sight, especially as the heartlink between us was silent.
If she gets hurt...
The thought was sudden but sharp, and my bare feet slipped instantly into a walk.
I didn’t worry that she was farther ahead. All it would take was a simple command to Rivoza, and I could harness its wind to travel far swifter than mortal feet could march.
Zetas leaped into a run, her tongue lolling over her fangs, happy I’d finally realised that there was no choice.
Not where Runa was concerned.
She’d gone.
I would follow.
I always would.
Chapter Forty-Seven
. Runa .
“WHAT’S THE WORD FOR BISON?” Olish asked quietly, treading carefully beside me as the hunters fanned out up ahead.
I scowled. “I’m not teaching you Zenasha with so many ears about.”
He grinned, his hand planted firmly on his medicine pouch as if afraid he would lose it. Way had stayed behind at the camp with Pallen and her apprentices, but Olish had come to tend to any injuries caused by the hunt.
He’d successfully terrified me of what would happen today—gleefully telling me tales of horn gorging and hoof trampling from other hunts gone wrong. For the past five hours, I’d tried to get him to keep his horror-telling to himself, but he’d accepted me fully as a fellow healer—even if I showed no aptitude—and took it upon himself to prepare me for whatever malady might arise.
