Five Dark Fates (Three Dark Crowns #4) - Kendare Blake Page 0,42

And I am not going to Wolf Spring.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to remain here, with the rebellion. So is Luke. And my parents. And many of the people who came with them.” She exhales. “But not Matthew. I am sending Matthew and the baby home. If Sunpool falls, it’ll be safer there. And though she won’t say it, I think it would be better for Jules if he wasn’t here. He looks too much like Joseph would have looked.”

“You should go back with them,” says Arsinoe. “Help them to hide. Matthew might be safe from Katharine, but the Legion Queen’s little brother?”

“You think she would target a baby?” Billy asks, aghast.

“I think she would target anyone if there were an advantage to be gained. She’s at war. I can’t even blame her.”

“They’re departing this afternoon,” Caragh says. “Sailing back to Wolf Spring with the rest of the Sandrins. Come to the beach with us and say goodbye to them.”

That afternoon, when the sun starts to tilt, Arsinoe makes her way across the cold, stiff sand to join the others at the water’s edge. Aside from the Milones, Billy and Luke have come, as well as Mathilde, who feels her link to the baby as she was at the Black Cottage the night he was born.

Poor little Fenn. Bundled in blanket upon blanket against the chilly sea wind and passed from person to person like a jug of ale around the fire. When he comes to Arsinoe, she holds him out in front of her to look into his eyes.

“Jules’s little brother,” she says. It is such a strange thing to say—a brother in a family full of sisters. So small and his mother already gone.

“Pull him close,” Matthew says, and laughs. “Give him a kiss.”

Arsinoe makes a fondly disgusted face. “I think he’s covered in enough kisses already.” But before she gives him back, she whispers to him to take care. Beside her, Caragh’s stoic eyes are wet, though she hides her tears well. Her brown hound sits beside Matthew miserably, pressed against his side.

“Joseph was his uncle,” Billy says as he prods the baby in the tummy. “And I was foster brother to Joseph. So does that mean I can claim him as my foster nephew?”

“No need to carry on with the ‘foster’ bit,” Matthew replies. “And you’re always welcome at the Sandrin house.”

“Give him to me,” Mathilde says, and holds out her arms. The baby reaches for her and gurgles. “I was near when your light came into the world, and I will always sense when it is near.”

“Strange folk, oracles,” Luke comments.

“Says the man with the rooster on his shoulder,” Billy notes. “And speaking of chickens, Luke, how is my Harriet?”

“She’s overfed, and a distraction to Hank,” he replies, and his rooster clucks sheepishly.

Billy pokes at the baby in Mathilde’s arms.

“Will he be a naturalist, do you think? Is that how it goes? Even if one of the parents is giftless?”

“I charm fish,” Matthew objects, reaching for his son.

“You charm everyone in equal measure,” Billy assures him. “But really, is that how it works?”

Cait studies the baby with a stern expression. “Every Milone born has the naturalist gift. That is how it works. And his gift is sure to be a strong one.”

“Cursebreaker,” Mathilde says suddenly. Then she blinks. “Forgive me. I do not know why I said that.”

Cait and Ellis trade a glance. “It’s all right,” Ellis says. “We know why.”

“Why?” asks Billy.

“For as many generations as can be recalled, Milone women have been born in twos. Two girls: one who goes on to have two girls of her own and the other who goes on to have none. Leave it to my Madrigal to go changing the rules.”

Billy offers the baby a finger to grab, but it seems the excitement has finally been too much. Fenn is fast asleep. “A little naturalist. I wonder if he’ll bring home another cougar one day. The house has to feel rather empty without one.”

“No,” Cait says, and for once her face cracks into a smile. “He will have a good familiar but not one like Camden. More likely a dog or a bird. We would be happy with a hawk, perhaps.”

“He will have a fox,” Mathilde declares, loudly enough to snap the baby’s eyes back open. “A red fox. With a bright white chest and a dark tail.” She swallows and shakes her head a little before wiping at her eyes.

“Well,” says Matthew, grinning. “So much for

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