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With a burst of wind assisting, Raela cleared the doorstep of the leaves that had collected along the side of the house from the sudden afternoon storm. A storm that was probably her fault: Nature’s response to her nightmares.
She should never nap mid-day.
Hopefully, she hadn’t drenched her aunties too badly.
Auntie Toru and Auntie Mo had taken off at lunchtime, heading to the base of the Spires to collect the bright orange mushrooms and yellow squash as they did every year for their fall harvest. They always went by themselves to collect what they needed for her Surprise Birthday Soup. Always the same soup. Which hadn’t bothered her before.
Life around her was ridiculously circular. Spring brought new babies, summer brought growth, fall brought harvest, and winter brought rest and a hardening of the ground that led back to spring. Should she follow the same patterns? Be as unchanging as her aunties?
Be content where she was planted?
She wished she could talk to Mother Bear, but the ancient bear was off fattening up herself and her cubs for the coming cold season. The wind brushed Raela’s hair and caressed her cheek as it slipped through the trees, singing her a song of the places that it had visited, places long buried. It smelled crisp like snow.
The sun traveled from one side to the next, but she had not moved in all this time. She’d stopped exploring when Auntie Shou didn’t return.
Her guilt was strong. Her desire to explore the reach of the wind was stronger. So strong it filled her head with nightmares of cages, and bars and cottages with no air.
Raela paced the cottage, her thoughts loud and her mind itching. Cleaning, baking, and magicking the fall colors to greater brilliance was not as distracting as she could have wished.
Raela turned to the bookshelves. Perhaps the answers, or an escape, were there.
The shelves were bursting with homemade covers and tomes of forest knowledge. There was a book about herbs and healing remedies written by Auntie Mo. Artwork and commentary on the local flora and fauna written by her Auntie Toru. Recipes over the years, again written by Auntie Mo. Landscapes and weather commentary by Auntie Toru. All the books they owned had been written by her aunties. Certainly, other people existed in the world. One of them—no,two—had even entered her forest. But no other authors sat on their shelves. She hadn’t realized how odd that was before.
Raela touched Auntie Shou’s books fondly.To Dance With the Wind. The Power of Water. Light and Darkness.All of her magical training sat in the tomes before her. And one book filled with words she didn’t know, an odd addition to the rest.
Pulling out her favorite book, Raela paged through her auntie’s poetry. Most of her poems were as whimsical and ridiculous as Auntie Shou. Raela set that book to the side for later. There were no answers to her questions there. Maybe Raela was just chasing after imaginary jackrabbits.
With a bang, the front door swung open, and her aunties burst in.
Auntie Toru was buried behind a massive bag of squash, vines billowing out the top like a willow. “Oh, my dear, how are you? We’ve missed you. Did you have a terrible day without us?”
Glancing back to the bookshelf, Raela smiled sheepishly as she stepped to take Auntie Toru’s bag. “I missed you, too, Auntie. How was your journey?”
“The ground was yet hard. So many branches covered the path on the way back, as apparently the winds became upset around the middle of the afternoon. But the trees didn’t seem to mind. They needed a good trim anyhow.” Auntie Toru wiped her hands on her apron. “We could have used your wind to sweep the path, but it’s all right. We managed.”
Auntie Mo came in with two bags full of herbs and mushrooms. “Be a dear and grab this, please. We need to start hanging them immediately. The parsley seems to be a bit shrivelly, so we will aid them before they quit and turn moldy.” As she handed them to Raela, Auntie Mo patted her arm.
Raela tucked the assortment in her arms with a smile, glad to have her aunties back. As they hung the herbs and washed the mushrooms, Raela scolded herself. Her aunties were dears. Their love for her was clear. Everything they did was for her good. She should listen to them. She should be content. She loved her life and her aunties. She loved Mother Bear and the cubs.
But the very next morning, she knew she would be back in the meadow looking for a certain human man.
Chapter 8
Meetings
Killian
Killianwokewellbeforedawn and walked to the gate. He still hadn’t talked to Phineas and was avoiding the training grounds so he had to skip the stables. The walk through the dewy grass settled his mind more than a ride would have anyhow. The early morning birds were just starting to rouse. A gentle, northern wind cut through the meadow, but for the most part, the morning was still. The sweet smell of the damp earth should have soothed him more than it did.
Before long, he found himself staring at the dark shadows around the gate. The darkness deepened as he stared, as if all light was being sucked in, even from the lingering half-moon. Tapping his fingers on his leg, he paused.
A chuffing laugh startled him.Only NOW you hesitate? You didn’t pause so much when you first crossed.
Clearing his throat, and stiffening his shoulders, he turned to the wolf. “Of course. I’m scouting for onlookers. No one can follow us.”
Where is Phineas?
Pressing his lips together tightly, he answered, “Busy.”
