would be stoked forever. His shadows weren’t frightening to me, but never had a Charmer entertained such an existence.
We’d only discussed such an outcome once before, late at night right after we returned from the battle of Hireath. I’d chalked it up to him being afraid after seeing me under Wynn’s spell, and instead of answering him, I’d only brushed the hair from his face and placed a kiss on his forehead. Told him I loved him and that he didn’t need to worry about such things. That we didn’t need to worry. But maybe I was wrong.
For a moment, I willed myself to imagine such a fate. I’d always found his shadows beautiful and soothing, but they were so starkly different from the boisterous, vibrant life of the beast realm. Would I still have access to both? Could I? What if those shadows leaked into that world and tainted my beasts?
My beasts… They were the reason for my hesitation the first time he’d asked about raising me. And they were the reason I was about to hurt him deeply with my answer.
Squeezing his hand, I implored him to understand. “It’s not just my life, it’s my beasts’. They’re tied to the realm because of me. When I die, they’re allowed to remain. There’s no precedent for what would happen if I came back. If those shadows permeate every facet of your life, what would they do to the realm?”
His voice cracked. “I don’t know.”
“Me neither.” I studied our intertwined fingers. “And I can’t risk that. Risk them.”
A loud holler snared my attention. Oz waved from the porch with both arms, beckoning us to join him. A flicker of orange warmth sparked behind the windows and promised to chase away the cold.
But not from my heart. I dragged my gaze back to Noc. “If it’s my time, then you have to let me go.”
Noc dropped my hand and reached for the reins of Kost’s Zeelah. He nudged his mount forward a few feet before speaking over his shoulder. “And that is why I have to protect you. At all costs.”
Without waiting for a response, he made a soft clicking sound and led Kost’s Zeelah toward the dilapidated house. Wind and rain crashed against my senses, but nothing compared to the slow dredge of ice water in my veins. There was no right answer to his question, and yet, I couldn’t help but feel guilty as I led Oz’s Zeelah toward our temporary camp.
Thirteen
Noc
Leena huddled before the stone hearth on a threadbare love seat. Eyes lost in the hungry flames, she hadn’t spoken once since entering the house. She’d nodded her thanks to Ozias when he’d dug through our provisions for some dried lamb and bread, but that was it. He’d accepted her silence without complaint and was now busying himself in the kitchen. Visible from the main room, he tinkered with a wood-burning stove and relit a stack of logs in its belly. Meanwhile, Kost had disappeared to a room on the second story to change clothes.
“There’s not much, but it looks like a few wanderers have used this place since we were here last.” Ozias rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. “Some old food, a few dishes.” He nodded to a wire structure with ceramic plates and bowls. “There was some wood under a tarp out back that we can use to keep the fire lit and cook in the morning.”
Kost and Ozias had done a quick but thorough sweep of the premises before calling us inside. Fortunately, there were no people to be found. We had a roof with beds, and we’d packed our own supplies. In the very least, we’d be dry and somewhat comfortable.
Still drenched but unwilling to drift far from Leena, I joined Ozias in the kitchen. “At least we’re not pitching tents in the rain.”
Ozias folded his thick arms across his chest. “True. There are enough beds for all of us, though the blankets look a little dusty. Might be best to use our own.”
Leena shifted on the couch and shrugged off her coat. Rain had snuck between the layers and dampened her blouse. She toyed with the strings laced across her chest and sighed.
Ozias nudged me. “What did you do this time?”
“Nothing.” It was one thing to assume she’d always shy away from the possibility of being raised, but to hear her say it out loud… I slipped my hands into the pockets of my trousers and formed neat fists. “Just