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12
Mavlyn
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay on your own?” Leap asked.
Mavlyn tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear as she surveyed Fenwood from atop Cirra, Leap's cloud familiar. They'd arrived with the dawning sun, and the villagers were stirring, tending their gardens, drawing fresh water from the village well, exchanging the usual greetings with their neighbors.
She’d never seen it from above before, and after zooming all over Ediria, it hit her just how small her childhood home was. Compared to Wynth and Angtun and Kaipei, it was just a tiny blip on the radar. It would take a lot more than convincing the residents of Fenwood to stand against Nox if she wanted to make a real difference… but she had to start somewhere.
“I’ll be fine,” she said to Leap, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I grew up here—these people are my neighbors, my friends.” She scanned the village again, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but the only difference she noted was the plot of land where Gelsyne and Adara’s house had once stood. The villagers had razed the house, removing all traces of it. Sadness welled inside her at how easily they’d ripped out her friend’s childhood roots, as if she’d never existed, never frolicked through their woods or trained with their warriors or played with their children.
The fae here might very well be her neighbors, as she’d told Leap, but were they truly still her friends? Could she trust people who turned their backs on one of their own as easily as Fenwood’s residents turned on Adara?
“Okay.” Leap searched Mavlyn’s face, then surprised her by throwing his arms around her midsection in a tight hug. “Don’t do anything dumb when I’m gone.”
Laughing, she ruffled his spiky hair. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“All right.” He twirled his finger, and an icy air current swirled around them. “I’m going to have the wind take you down so they don’t spot me. Just hop off and it’ll do the rest.”
“Umm.” Mavlyn peered over Cirra’s scalloped, golden rim and peered down at the several-thousand-foot drop. “Can’t you just drop me off at the lake or something?”
Leap snorted. “I could, but this is faster. Come on, Mavlyn, don’t be a baby. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Mavlyn glared at Leap, but she did as he said, getting to her feet and standing at the edge. She hesitated, but just as she was considering taking a step back, Cirra bounced, pitching her forward. Mavlyn swallowed a shriek as she pinwheeled through the air, but a second later, the wind current whipped around her, slowing her fall from a sharp plummet to a gentle descent.
Leap’s laughter drifted to her on the air, and she glared up at Cirra, biting back a string of curses. She wasn’t sure if Leap had ordered his cloud familiar to push her off, or if she’d done it of her own free will—both were equally possible. She’d learned from the time she’d spent traveling with Leap that though Cirra mostly followed his orders, she still had a mind and will of her own.
She sighed in relief as her boots touched down on the bare earth, just on the outskirts of the village, with the forest at her back. Glancing up, she caught sight of Leap waving down at her, and she lifted her hand and made a rude gesture. He grinned, and then he and Cirra jetted off, back to the battlefield they’d stumbled upon the other day. They’d decided his time would be better spent tracking General Slaugh’s soldiers, and that he would meet back up with her here once he’d found where they’d gone.
Squaring her shoulders, Mavlyn set off along the path, heading into the village. Her boots crunched against the fine dusting of snow that covered the ground and frosted the rooftops. Smoke billowed from the chimneys, and the familiar scent of burning cedarwood calmed her a little. The villagers paid her little mind—she’d chosen to wear the hood of her cloak up, so that she wouldn’t draw too much attention from the villagers. She wanted to speak to her parents before she talked to anyone else.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped onto her porch and lifted a hand to knock on the front door. But before her knuckles could make contact, the door swung open.
“Mavlyn!” her mother cried, her face lit with joy and relief. Tears sprang to Mavlyn’s eyes as they embraced, and her hood fell away from her face. “Kaid, our daughter is home!”
Footsteps thundered from inside the house, and Mavlyn lifted her head to see her father appear in the doorway. Her stomach clenched at the tightly wound expression on his face—his jaw was clenched, his brows drawn together, his mouth a thin line.
But when Mavlyn’s mother stepped back, he didn’t hesitate to draw her against his broad chest in a crushing embrace. “Welcome back,” he said gruffly. “I’m glad to see you made it home in one piece.”
They ushered Mavlyn inside and set her down at the kitchen table, demanding to hear a full account of everything that had transpired. Mavlyn’s mother fussed over her the entire time, tucking a strand of hair away from her face, adjusting her collar, repeatedly refilling her mug of tea even though Mavlyn was only taking tiny sips of the hot liquid. In contrast, her father was still as stone, sitting in the chair across from her with his brows drawn and his massive arms crossed as he listened to her tale.
“You’re lucky to be alive,” he finally said, shaking his head. His auburn ponytail swung with the motion, and a ray of winter sunshine glinted off the single silver ring in his left earlobe—a ring he’d forged himself, just like he’d forged every other metal tool and decoration in this house. “Very, very lucky.”
“Kaid!” Mavlyn’s mother snapped. She placed a supportive hand on Mavlyn’s shoulder as she leveled a glare at her husband. “Is that really all you have to say?”
“Do you want me to applaud our daughter for leaving without our permission?” Mavlyn’s father demanded. “For dropping out of university to help a wanted fugitive, then falling in with twomorefugitives and engaging in acts of rebellion against the crown?”
“Fugitives?” Mavlyn echoed, clenching her hands beneath the table. She knew her father hadn’t been pleased about her decision to go after Adara, but she hadn’t thought his enmity ran this deep. “Father, you watched Adara and I grow up together. She’s not a criminal, and you know it.”
“It isn’t my place to decide whether she’s a criminal,” her father said. “Just as it isn’t my place to stand against the crown.” He shook his head. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like here since you’ve been gone? General Slaugh garrisoned a few of his shadow guard here to patrol the village in case you or Adara came back. Those cruel bastards made our lives miserable, setting unreasonable curfews, conducting frequent searches of our homes unannounced, and fining us for even the smallest infractions. People tried to speak out, but that ended after the soldiers started dragging dissenters into the square and whipping them.”
“That’s horrible!” Mavlyn sat back in her chair, aghast at the cruelty her father described. “Where are those soldiers now?”
“They were recalled after Adara killed King Aolis,” he said. “The only good thing to come out of that.”
“How can you say that?” Mavlyn’s mother argued. “Didn’t you hear what Mavlyn said? King Aolis was responsible for the shadow magic infection that has been spreading through our lands. He couldn’t be allowed to continue to rule!”
“And what now?” Mavlyn’s father demanded. He slammed a fist against the wooden table, and the mugs jumped from the force of the blow. “King Aolis might be gone, but rumor has it Lord Oren is threatening to withdraw the Gaoth Aire from the Edirian alliance, and both House Usciete and Ithir are preparing to attack. Just this past week, we had recruiters banging on our doors, looking for more of our children to enlist!”
