Chapter 2 Lena #2
It was impossible to deny it. The dreams of the past she’d always had, the ones she’d always known were due to her bōden ancestors, had been increasing over the last few moons, the details of them steadily becoming more and more vivid.
Dreams Lena would wake from with an ache in her wrist she couldn’t explain.
“It’s true. Why else would you have that mark?” Finaen asked.
When Lena didn’t reply, he took a cautious step toward her, as if he were approaching an animal that might flee at any second. And Lena wanted to run. From him, from Maia, from the truth.
“The empire will never stop hunting you, Lena,” said Finaen. “You know that. If you go with them, maybe you can use your power to do some good. To … to help our people.”
The hope in Finaen’s expression was enough to make Lena’s heart ache.
She wanted to share it. To believe, just for a second, in a world where the Fateweaver could be a force of good.
But she couldn’t. Because as long as the Fateweaver’s power was bound to the empire, it would be nothing but a weapon.
“I wish I could believe that. I really do,” Lena said, her fingers closing around the hilt of her mother’s dagger.
The sensation was an anchor against her fear, a reminder of all she had to lose.
She took a deep breath, the copper tang of blood in the air coating her tongue.
“They can’t find me here.” If they did, they’d assume the villagers had been hiding her all this time.
Lena’s gaze darted to the woods at her back, and then to Maia, who gave a fierce nod.
“Go,” she whispered, tears lining her eyes. “We’ll handle the Fist.”
Finaen made a low noise of protest. “Maia—”
Maia whirled on him. “This is Lena we’re talking about.”
His expression softened. “I was just going to tell you to go find Estryd; I’ll deal with the hunters.” Maia hesitated for a heartbeat, her gaze finding Lena’s one final time.
Lena was used to goodbyes. As a storyteller, she said them often, traveling from village to village, leaving the people she cared for behind. This time was different, though. This time, she wouldn’t be coming back.
Lena looked away before her grief could take hold. And then Maia was gone, disappearing into the shadows, and she was alone with Finaen once again.
“I can’t convince you to stay, can I?” he asked quietly.
Lena shook her head, blinking back tears. “No.”
“Where will you go?”
Her mother’s face surfaced in her memory, grim in the darkness of the forest as a younger Lena told her about the dreams she’d been having.
It was the only time they’d ever spoken about what it might mean.
Kelia Vesthir had instructed her daughter on two things that night: the first was to never tell anyone about her visions, a lesson Lena had abided by ever since.
The second was that if she was ever in trouble, she should head to a place called the White Bear in Deyecia and find a man by the name of the Raven.
She’d heard whisperings of him over the years.
Rumors of a man helping heretics escape the empire.
In the first few years after her mother’s disappearance, Lena had thought about seeking him out herself.
Of finding a home in a place where her fate could be her own.
But the idea of giving up on her mother’s legacy, of leaving the people of the Wilds behind, had always kept her from doing so.
Now she didn’t have a choice. She could either leave her homeland and the people she loved behind, or she could stay and let the Ehmar heir turn her into a monster.
“Somewhere the emperor can’t follow,” she said. “There are … rumors of a smuggler working out of Deyecia. If I can find him—”
Realization dawned in Finaen’s eyes. “You’re going to leave Wyrecia? Lena, you can’t! It’s too dangerous.”
Lena shook her head. “What choice do I have?” she asked, knowing he wouldn’t be able to answer.
Finaen stared at her for a heartbeat, and then his expression hardened. “Maia and I will come with you—”
“No.” The word was out of Lena’s mouth before her heart had the chance to agree.
Her selfishness had put the siblings in enough danger already.
“It’s too dangerous. And the village needs you here.
Maia needs you here. You have to make sure they’re safe.
” She’d been a fool to ever think she had any control over her fate.
A fool to think Finaen and Maia would always be in her life.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered through the tightness in her throat. “I have to go.”
The Fist were at the village gates now. Lena could just make out the silhouettes of a half dozen armored hunters. She was out of time.
Finaen seemed to realize it, too, because he closed the distance between them in one stride and pulled her flush against him, his body crushing against hers with a fierceness that stole the breath from her lungs.
It was the kind of embrace that chased away the lingering pain of their earlier conversation.
The kind of embrace that reminded her that no matter what, Finaen would always be on her side.
It ended too soon.
“Safe travels, Lena Vesthir. May the threads of fate bring us together again.” His jaw clenched, and something in his expression made Lena’s heart ache.
She’d heard those words a dozen times during her travels. It was a saying all Wyrecians uttered when leaving someone behind, whether they worshipped the Fateweaver or not. So why did the sound of it coming from Finaen’s mouth send a shiver down her spine?
There was no time to dwell on it. The Fist were already in the center of the village. They hadn’t noticed her and Finaen yet, but it wouldn’t be long before they did.
It was time to leave.
With a final brush of his lips against her cheek, Finaen let her go.
And when Lena stepped into the forest a moment later, she did not allow herself to look back.