Chapter 1
—Kienna—
Dove Port smelled of carved cedar and clean stone.
Elowen’s home was built at the edge of a quiet quarter near the farmlands, closest to the hills and tucked beneath a flowering willow tree.
The woman who opened the door was neither warm nor cold.
A faded ribbon held back her silver hair, and her dress was splattered with dried paint.
“Come in quickly,” she said, eyes flicking to Kienna and Moira. “I said quickly, didn’t I? In, in, come in.”
They shuffled into the home, followed by Tislin, who fled to the corner. Elowen shut the door and dusted off her apron. Beneath it, she wore a brown dress, also drenched with paint specks that her apron didn’t catch.
Kienna took in the cluttered space. Stacks of books piled in the corners, unshelved and scattered with trinkets tucked behind them.
Pots steamed on the hearth. Tiny vials and curled labels rested on narrow shelves.
Bundles of flowers hung upside down. Elowen’s dress was not the only thing covered in paint drops.
Splatters dotted the walls and floors in subtle arcs, almost as if she’d once tried to paint the wind.
Moira pushed her hand toward Elowen. “I’m Moira, and this is—”
“Yes, yes.” Elowen waved her off. “I know who you are.”
Kienna’s fingers brushed the many paintings that littered the room as Elowen scurried her stout body through the home, snapping up little things out of the way here and there.
Then she stationed herself near a door, pushing away books and pots.
“My husband returns in a few days, so I won’t be able to hold you both for too long.
” She stiffly picked up a large stack of books and plopped them next to her empty shelves.
“That’s okay,” Moira said, helping Elowen push another mound from the door.
She grunted loudly as she lifted, causing Kienna to step in to move the books with ease before Tislin could reach them.
Moira offered Kienna a thankful look. “We’re grateful for your hospitality.
I’ve found this city to be quite accommodating. ”
Elowen hummed thoughtfully, pulling paintbrushes from the ground and placing them in respective cups. Then she slammed her shoulder into a door a few times to get it to budge. It was clear from the dust wafting in the specks of light that it had not been opened for some time.
“This is where you two can stay,” she said, showcasing the room as if it were a grand hall for royals.
Kienna and Moira eased into the darkened room, lit only by a small window, leaving Tislin in the living quarters.
Elowen sighed peacefully, taking in the space covered in cobwebs.
She crossed her arms and hugged her chin with her hand.
“Your mothers and I sat right there in the spots you stand.” She chuckled, and memories shone in her eyes as they trailed the room.
“Stars above, they had a fire in their spirits.”
Kienna shared a glance with Moira. “You knew my mother?”
Elowen nodded fervently. “Oh yes! I knew Avenna, and I knew Solene.” Moira’s furrowed brow must have given her away. “Solene and Darian. Those were your parents’ names.”
A glimmer of fading sunlight strengthened through the window. Solene and Darian. Kienna pictured hearing the names Avenna and Galric for the first time and imagined it was like stones skipping across a long-quieted pond.
Moira’s lips curved, but her eyes deepened with sadness. “No one ever told me the names of my parents. Not once.” She paused, staring at the sunlight. “I didn’t know I was missing them until now.”
Kienna grabbed Elowen’s arm, which shocked her as much as it shocked Elowen. “What were they like?”
“Another time.” Elowen waved, but her eyes lingered on the dust and shadows a moment longer. Her voice wavered, as if she were tucking something heavy back into her chest. “You girls need to settle in and take to finding a trade so you aren’t left stranded in the streets once Thorn returns.”
She left them in the room still speckled with Moira’s sunlight. Kienna stepped over cobwebs and lingered near the corner, forcing a half-smile. “Was this the first time you’ve heard about your parents?”
“It is.” Moira clutched her chest. “I didn’t expect it to hurt so much.”
Kienna chewed her cheek. She could relate to the feeling.
Hearing about—and seeing her parents in a vision—only brought more pain and confusion.
Knowing who they were wouldn’t bring them back.
The unknown held peace, but learning there were truly people in the world who loved her so deeply they died for her was crushing.
Knowing it was Vaerin who killed them…that was worse.
“I can’t believe they knew each other—our mothers. It’s almost like—”
“Fate.” Moira stared deeply into Kienna’s eyes. “Solene, Avenna, and…Elowen, apparently. I wish I knew them.”
“Me, too.” Kienna dropped her eyes, thinking of all the questions she’d ask her mother.
There was so much she needed to know about herself.
She never lacked a mother in any sense. In River Storm, Maren raised her, guided her toward becoming a woman, spoke of love, gave her advice, and warmed her when she was sad.
Even so, Maren could never tell Kienna who she was or where she came from.
“What would you ask your mother if you could?”
Moira laughed, hugging her arms against herself. “I’d want to know how she met my father. Their love story.” She sighed emphatically, staring into the distance. “I will dream of that question forever.”
Kienna sat on the lumpy bed in the room. It would barely fit them both for sleep and would hardly provide enough comfort. Still, it would do. “We should rest.”
Moira tsked and sat on the bed next to Kienna. “Lie down.”
Kienna stared at Moria’s open hands, motioning for Kienna to place her head on her lap.
When she didn’t respond, Moira tugged her hands and forced her, then ran her fingers through Kienna’s hair.
Kienna hummed on accident. She couldn’t help it.
A new calm overcame her scalp and sent a wave of comfort through her heart.
Moira giggled. She massaged Kienna’s scalp, rubbing in circles for a few minutes, then in lines. Kienna swallowed hard, loving the sensation but ultimately feeling guilty about it. “I was never nice to you, was I? I shut you out every time you tried to get close.”
“You had a lot going on,” Moira said, her voice calm and soothing. “I always understood.”
Kienna sat up, straightening her hair over her shoulder. “Do you believe we can have a proper life away from River Storm?”
Moira’s lips curved ever so slightly, her eyes saddening in the same way they had when she heard her parents’ names. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I want to try. Is that wrong?”
Ruva stirred outside the window. She propped her head against the pane, watching them, and remained silent as Kienna worked through the emotions inside of her, telling her she needed Moira.
She couldn’t be cold anymore, couldn’t turn these people away despite the pain and fear.
She’d need to stop pushing everyone away for the fear of their death.
Kienna lifted her chin, resolved to do the work it took. “What do you dream of?”
Moira nearly gasped. “Oh.” She pressed her fingers to her chin, tapping as she thought. “A family. More than anything, that’s what I want.”
“With Tislin?” Kienna teased.
Moira pouted, ignoring the tease when she responded, “I’m glad you’re with me, Kienna.
Danek probably would have been the more agreeable choice, of course, but…
” She sighed. The words were troubling her more than Tislin’s name.
“I do wish to be your friend. Not because a vile man forced us all together…but because I love you.”
Tears surfaced in Kienna’s eyes. She bit her lip, fighting them.
She wasn’t sure how any of the Guardians felt about each other.
They bickered more than anything and were forced together out of fate, not because they liked each other.
But Moira was different, and Kienna now understood it wasn’t out of politeness.
She didn’t care that they were forced. It seemed she thought of them as family either way.
Warmth flooded her chest. With room to finally breathe, she realized she, too, had nothing but warm regards for her Guardians.
Except for Baila. Maybe not Broan. But Moira and Danek were always there, always encouraging.
She smiled and hugged Moira tightly, the first hug she’d ever shared that meant anything to her.
I’m hungry, Ruva growled, snapping Kienna from her trance.
Kienna laughed, pulling away from her hug. The city has already domesticated you. Would you like me to ask if Elowen has something I could give you?
Please don’t. Her house smells too sweet and like the earth. I’ll try my luck fishing. Ruva conceded with a gruff audible from outside the walls. Moira jolted and then tsked, mentioning something about that wolf being as much a nuisance as it was a beauty. She stood from the bed, nearing the door.
Kienna followed, embracing her before she could enter the common room. “Thank you for being who you are. Your parents would be proud.”
Moira’s brows tilted, her eyes filling with joy. She hugged Kienna once more, then opened the door and left the room. Kienna started to follow, but not before her eye caught on a cracked canvas leaning against the wall in the corner of the bedroom.
A half-finished painting stretched across its frame, brushstrokes thick with emotion. The image was abstract, but the colors stirred something old inside her. Deep ocean green, gold-streaked sky, a silhouette of a woman and a wolf on fire. Why did Elowen have that?
As she resurfaced into the main room, Tislin left the corner he’d succumbed to. “I’ll be back shortly to check on you.” He nodded to Elowen, glancing around the curious cottage. “I have a woodcarver to see.”
Moira wordlessly pulled Tislin’s arm. He waited for her to speak, but she didn’t, and they remained fixed, staring at each other. Kienna studied them, furrowing a brow as she worked to decipher what they were doing. Could they speak to each other like she and Connak could?
Ruva, what do you know of Moira and Tislin’s relationship?
As much as you, Little Flame. They do talk a lot.
Kienna loved the tickle of Ruva’s voice in her head, which was a stark difference from when the wolf first spoke.
Back when she sounded like many voices meshed into one, as if she couldn’t decide which personality she wanted to play, so she chose them all: friendly, ancient, and growling at the same time.
As time went by, her voice merged into one, becoming soft like the silk petals of a rose, though she left the hint of a bite for moments of sternness.
Like you and me?
I never got that hint. Why? What are they doing?
Staring at each other.
By now, Elowen had her door open, ready to sweep the Elvish man out.
Behind her impatient figure, more canvases scattered along one wall.
A few were already painted, while others remained blank.
The potential to be anything. This inspired Kienna, and she searched for spare wood among the disarray.
She didn’t see any, but Dove Port had trees. Maybe she’d go out and find some.
Any particular wood? Ruva asked.
Would it be too much trouble to bring some from the Malintale?
The wolf huffed. Maybe let me eat before asking me to travel a day’s journey for something we could get here.
Kienna smiled, then noticed Moira and Tislin had vacated Elowen’s cottage together, leaving her alone with an odd woman busying herself by tidying a corner of fabrics, moving them around without making the mess any cleaner.
Whispers surrounded Kienna, drawing her attention to the mound of books. Elowen perked, studying Kienna for longer than necessary.
“May I help you with the cleaning?” Kienna asked, hoping to cut the tension.
“No.” Elowen waved her hands. “Well…” She paused. “Perhaps the books… Not those. Leave them alone for now. Oh, goodness!” A kettle whistled loudly, drawing Elowen away.
Kienna pushed her thumb against her index finger and picked at the skin. How odd.
Her mind trailed back to the painting in the room, the image so vivid that it etched itself permanently in her mind, even as she pushed it away. It was hard to tell if that was her in that picture or her mother. All she could do was hope that future was no longer in the cards for her.
She was going to be a woodcarver.
—Moira—
Moira followed Tislin a few paces outside before stopping him again. His speckled smoke and amber eyes softened on her. “Are you alright, Sunbeam?”
“I had another vision. About the woodcarver.” She’d seen it as they arrived at Dove Port.
The child in her womb wanted her to, though she couldn’t explain exactly what it meant or why she’d had it.
She’d led Moira directly to the old man and warned her to beware of the blade that shaped the block.
These visions disoriented Moira in her reality.
Tislin’s expression clouded. She couldn’t tell if it was from discomfort or from fear that she might be seeing too much. He caressed her cheek, and Moira’s breath faltered. Shivers fluttered under her skin as she leaned into the touch. “It’s okay, Sunbeam. Would you like to tell me?”
“Is he dangerous?”
“He is old.” Tislin nearly laughed. When he softened back, his hand floated above her ear, removing his touch and crumbling her heart. “You worry for your friend, and the worry feeds your child. Listen to your fears, but don’t misinterpret them. This is Kienna’s path.”
Moira held her breath. She had inklings that Kienna might be more than they realized.
Her visions told her that much. Still, Tislin was not forthcoming with the information, and it drove Moira mad.
Her hand fluttered to her abdomen, caressing it lovingly.
Her eyes fixed on Tislin’s, but she forced a smile.
He was, in fact, helping them more than she could have dared to ask for. She would give him time to tell her.
She hoped it wouldn’t be too late.