Chapter 48
When I awaken, my limbs feel heavy. My body wants me to turn over and go back to sleep, but the bustling of the camp around me tells me it is time to get moving.
Reluctantly, I open my eyes and stretch. The sky is grey and heavy, the previously burning tree trunk now nothing more than a pile of ash. Sure enough, the others are up and packing their belongings, save for Kyor, who is still by my side as if he feared leaving me sleeping for even a moment.
As I sit up, I feel the rest of the group eyeing Kyor and me, noting our unusually close position. But even more intrusive than their speculative gazes is the new presence within me.
In sleep, our minds became helplessly tangled again.
Fen’s joy at being reunited with Elska is sharp, his relief at being alive just as keen, and his guilt – at feeling such joy while Zelle is dead and gone – sucker-punches me.
Trembling, I reach out and touch the earth next to me, let my fingers curl into the cold, hard ground.
‘You got this?’ Kyor asks, aware of exactly what I’m doing as I focus on breathing in and out.
I nod once and he rises, moving away, giving me space to disentangle my thoughts from Fen’s. The process is gradual and not something I intend to rush. Only when I’m sure he and I are two beings again do I hesitantly reach out to him.
How are you feeling, big guy?
I am well. His answer is flat and stubborn, as if he will never give me any other answer to that question. Do not call me ‘big guy’. I am no man.
Big wolf? I offer.
He sniffs. I am not a mere wolf, Little Raven. I am a dire wolf.
Well, if we’re being technical about it, I’m not a raven.
Little Raven is a dignified nickname. He sniffs. Big guy is a soldier with brawn and no brains, and a dick that scrapes on the ground.
The image makes me snicker aloud as he no doubt intended.
I decide to drop the apparently contentious subject of nicknames. Are you up for walking a bit today?
A slight huff resonates through my skull. Walking? I have braved the frozen fields of the Issen. Pushed myself to the brink of starvation. Spent days in the wilderness to the west. Wandered—
So that’s a yes, then? I cut in.
Of course it is, he snippily replies. Of course I can walk. I am a wolf.
A dire one, I amend cheekily, and I feel his shimmer of amusement before he draws away.
Feeling buoyed by my first interaction of the day, I turn my attention to the rest of the group. Kyor has moved to stand with Ruben. As far as I can see, they seem to be having a perfectly civil conversation, but it’s the remaining males – Benny and Loch – whom I choose to join.
‘Morning, Rose. How are you feeling?’ Benny asks as he sees me approach. ‘We’ve just packed up some rabbit leftovers if you want something to eat?’
I shake my head. Everyone is geared up and ready to move, and I don’t want to delay them. Besides, I’ve been hungry plenty of times before. I can cope with the pangs until lunchtime.
‘I’m fine for now, thank you,’ I say before glancing at Loch. He’s not pacing the way he was before, but rocking back and forth, muttering to himself.
‘The stone’s in the light. Oh, it should be dark, but it is light, light, light.’
He’s back to that rambling voice, and my stomach sinks. My moss earplugs might be doing something to help him, but I fear it’s not enough.
I lean into Benny, trying to hide my concern. ‘How is he?’ I murmur.
‘He’s doing … okay,’ Benny finally says.
We both turn to gaze at the older Islander, who’s doing a great job at pretending like he’s not listening. Maybe he isn’t. Maybe there are too many other things within his range of hearing for him to be interested in our mutterings, including, apparently, sun-kissed rocks.
‘We’re not far from Rowell,’ I start. ‘This is the closest we’re going to get to a main city for the rest of this trip.
We might pass a few small villages in Agoyd, but they won’t have the expertise to help Loch.
I know how important he is to you.’ Loch is the last of the Eastern Isles Rettlings.
If anything happened to him – anything more than what has already left him in this state – Benny would be devastated.
The future duke doesn’t respond at first. Doesn’t want to. Instead, he lifts his arm to rub the back of his neck. I might not have the ability to hear his thoughts the way I do with Fen, but it’s not hard to know what he’s thinking. How he’s weighing up what’s best for him and for Loch.
Silence starts to fill the space between us, and as much as I don’t want to say the words that will mean my best friend has to leave me, I know I have to. ‘Maybe you need to take him home, Ben.’
Instinctively, Benny shakes his head. ‘No … I don’t know.
Going to the Eastern Isles means heading to a port and getting on a busy boat.
I don’t think he’d cope with that right now.
This is a small group. He’s … anchored with us, for now.
He was alone in the forest for a long time.
It’s just going to take a while for him to adjust. But he’s getting better. I know he is.’
As much as I want to share Benny’s optimism, it’s hard.
Yes, Loch’s been on his own for a long time, and I can’t imagine the type of horrors he’s faced, not if the Rottings are anything to go by.
But he was already losing his grip on reality well before he disappeared in the trial.
He and Seiren were a matched pair – him with his mutterings, and her with her accidentally plunging us all into illusions at a whim.
The abandonment may have exacerbated his condition, but it didn’t start it.
‘Okay,’ I say, drawing a breath. ‘But we need to monitor him. If he’s putting anyone at risk, and that includes himself—’
‘Agreed,’ Benny jumps in. ‘But he won’t. I promise.’
It feels like a promise he can’t keep, but I don’t call him on it.
As we draw our conversation to an end, Kyor stalks over, some bread in his hand. He thrusts it at me. ‘Eat.’
I blink and take the food. ‘What?’
‘I just offered her rabbit,’ Benny says, yet Kyor doesn’t so much as glance at him.
‘Elska says you’re hungry. Eat.’
‘How does Elska know that?’
‘Fen,’ he grunts simply.
He’s cross with me again. I sigh.
‘If you’re hungry,’ Kyor snaps, ‘Fen feels it. It’ll affect him too. You need to eat, if not for you, then for your dire wolf. You’re bonded now. You need to remember that and act like it.’
A moment later, he’s striding away.
‘It seems too early in the day for him to be mad at me,’ I say jokingly to Benny.
‘He cares about you, so he’s annoyed you’re not taking care of yourself.’ He pauses. ‘I offered you food. Why didn’t you take it?’
‘I … I didn’t want to slow us down. Besides, I’m just used to going without.’
His eyes soften. ‘Well, next time, don’t.’
As the last of the provisions are sorted and packs are tightened, I realise how much things have changed.
Now that he isn’t soaking wet and is on firm land, I can see that Fen stands like a small horse in wolf form, all ruff and shoulder and quiet authority. He’s bigger than Elska by almost a foot, and she is huge for a dire wolf. As much as he hates it, Big Guy totally works as a nickname.
It does not! His protest is instant and makes me grin.
Excuse me! Can you at least tell me when you’re going to be listening to my thoughts?
You want me to clear my throat every time I join our minds for me to communicate with you? His voice is incredulous.
Yes please.
That is utterly absurd! Fen huffs. Just assume I’m always listening in. That’s probably the easiest thing to do.
Easiest for you!
I look at my huge dire wolf. By rights, I should be trembling in fear, but I know with absolute certainty that Fen would rip off his own paw before hurting me.
I would quite like to remain intact, however, he notes drily as he gently nuzzles my hand with his head in unspoken reassurance that he would, of course, never harm me.
I would prefer that too, I admit.
Thanks to his size, Fen will have no problem carrying me and a raft of supplies, which would definitely ease some of the burden on the horses. Benny could then ride my horse, who is significantly less skittish than the mare he’s been stuck with.
I’m sorry. Are you considering using me as a donkey? Fen’s outrage fires through me.
Erm … no?
‘Rose, are you okay?’ I hear Ruben’s voice, but I can’t quite respond, my thoughts too busy sniping with Fen.
‘She’s arguing with Fen,’ Kyor grunts.
‘In her head?’ Ruben questions.
‘That’s how it works.’
‘That’s … amazing.’
‘He’s not thrilled about the idea of me riding him,’ I say aloud.
I knew most dire wolves don’t let their bonded ride them. Most storm into battle next to their horse-mounted knight. It gives Morathka two soldiers instead of one. Without a rider, a dire wolf can leap and snap and snarl and claw and rip without regard for their bonded’s safety.
I knew all that, but having ridden Elska a number of times now, I had assumed wrongly.
And I’m not the only one having trouble with my dire wolf, it seems. Every time Kyor tries to mount Elska, she moves away by a few inches.
He is getting exasperated. ‘I told you,’ he says aloud, ‘holding you with my magic was for your own sake. It kept you alive! I won’t apologise for my actions.’ He folds his arms and glares.
Elska turns her back on him, her tail between her legs, and lies down pointedly.
Kyor sighs. He tries to crouch next to her, but every time he gets close, she shifts away again.
‘Els,’ he says softly. ‘I’m sorry. I was scared for you. I won’t do it again.’
For a moment, I think she won’t relent, but finally she turns and licks his face. Then she drives her head into his chest in a headbutt, and Kyor meets her, his arms locking around her neck as the two of them wrestle.
Did you want to do that? I ask Fen, unsure if such rambunctious play is required of me.
Absolutely not! he replies, aghast. I’m not a pup!
Nor is Elska, I point out. She’s having fun.
His voice softens. It is rare for her to play so. She feels the need to reestablish their closeness. She has been distressed.