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Ana’s one regret—and it was a big one—was translating the letter accurately and leaving the truth for him to puzzle over and, far worse, get involved in. In trying to help Tyreste, she’d instead thrust him into serious danger, the very thing she’d been trying to avoid in cutting ties with him.
“Ana.” Varradyn’s voice, low and scratchy, cut through her malaise. “It’s past dusk.”
Ana lifted her head and looked through the glass dome and into the night, where the auroras painted the sky with purple and the deepest turquoise. “So it is.”
“I need to... ask you something.”
She nodded, averting her eyes toward the fire. Anywhere but at him.
“Your mother—”
“That witch isnotmy mother,” Ana stated through clenched teeth. “She swindled my father into wedding her, and she has done nothing but take from us.”
Varradyn was silent for a moment. The logs in the hearth crackled and popped, adding an unsteady chorus to the standoff. “She’s going to kill me... isn’t she?”
Ana spun around and leaned against the stone. “What has she said to you?”
“She doesn’t speak when she comes here. She pokes and prods my limbs like a physician, adds logs to the fire, and leaves.” He glanced down at himself. “She must know someone is feeding and watering me, or I’d be dead already, wouldn’t I?”
Magda couldn’t be ignorant of Ana’s visits to the observatory, but until that moment, Ana hadn’t considered that perhaps she was being tested. Did Magdawanther to feed and water the raven? To bond with him? If so, why?
“I don’t know what she wants with you,” she said after a pause.
The raven laughed. He slid his empty mug across the stones, toward the hearth. It tipped over on its side and rolled to a stop. “You’re the one who brought me here.”
“Usually she has me lure...” Ana shoved her tongue to the roof of her mouth. She wanted Varradyn to fly free when the ordeal was over. If she told him Magda had been behind the other Ravenwood disappearances, he would carry that knowledge home, and it would put her entire family at risk. “I don’t know what she does when I’m not around. I reallydon’tknow what she wants with you. Or why she... why she chose the magic she did that day.”
Varradyn wrapped his cloak tighter with a dark look. “If you hadn’t stopped me—”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Ana said, eager for a subject change. “When she comes here, it’s best if you say nothing you don’t have to. She’ll use every word she can against you.” Ana again checked the darkening sky. She was as impatient to be away from the observatory when Magda arrived as she was to beatthe tavern when Tyreste was working. He brightened every time Nessa walked in. Rikard the Mouser always pranced straight to the door to greet her, as he always had, as though he saw right through her ruse. She was more than a little grateful he couldn’t talk. “You done with your bowl?”
Varradyn shoveled the remnants of the stew into his mouth with desperate grunts and then sent the bowl sliding toward the mug. His dark eyes glittered with competing emotions as he trained them on her.
Ana tapped the corner of her mouth to show him he needed to wipe his. He grinned sheepishly and buried his face inside the cloak with a hard rub, watching her as she gathered the dishes in her own cloak and wrapped them tight so the magic would hold them when she shifted.
“I’ll be back again tomorrow,” she said, already running by the time he wished her good night. She was aloft before she reached the door, then she soared down the mountain, toward the village.
And Tyreste.
The evening rush hadn’t materialized. Tyr’s father claimed it was the turn in the weather, marking the arrival of springtide, though their bloom season would be short and snow would still fall, just less of it. The Cross was accustomed to doing outside work year-round, but in the brief pockets of spring, villagers were outsideallthe time.
The Cider Festival was less than a week away, set at what was expected to be the warmest stretch of the season. Everyone prayed for a brief thaw that meant they could leave the layers at home and enjoy themselves.
For Tyr, it meant the revival of memories that hadn’t always been so painful.
“I’m ducking out for a bit,” his brother Rikard said, one eye squinted at the scruffy cat named for him. “Need to check on Faustina.”
“Your shift isn’t over,” Tyr said. He eyed Adeline behind the bar, translating the assignment he’d given her. She looked up to watch their exchange.
Rikard gestured around. “Really need me, do you?”
Tyr shrugged and twerked the valve on the ale keg tighter, to no joy. The damned thing was warped, but Olov insisted it was still serviceable. Evert was the engineer of the family, but his shift wasn’t until later. Tyr couldn’t get even a drop of ale out of the cursed contraption. “Just be back before close. I did everything last night.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rikard palmed the double doors open and disappeared into the back.
Adeline looked up from where she was sitting on the floor.Faustina is pregnant. Be nice.
Tyr rolled his eyes but smiled.You’re right. Sorry.
