Chapter 6 #2
Moira breathed in the salty air. “It’s better than I could have asked for, Tis.”
An imaginary force pulled at Tislin’s lips. “I knew the sun would hit perfectly.”
Moira’s heart drummed in her chest. The warm sun on her skin made her glow with soft hues of orange.
If she wanted to right now, she’d summon the clouds and try to walk on them.
She’d better not, though. Clouds were fickle little things, and one misstep would have her falling from the sky or conjuring a full-blown storm.
“What are you thinking about?” Tislin leaned forward, studying Moira’s warm smile.
“Clouds,” Moira laughed. “What about you?”
Tislin’s eyes danced around the features of her face. She could tell he wanted to read her like a book. She’d let him if the impending thoughts of her husband didn’t interfere. Her left hand reached for her right, twirling the golden ring sitting on her pinky finger.
In a perfect world, Tislin would be the father of her baby.
Moira exhaled deeply, turning back to the sun. “Do you think Kienna will like it here? It’s sort of…”
“I imagine Kienna does not care where she lives.”
That much was true. Kienna would live in the forest if Moira let her. “Thank you, Tis. Truly. Once I find furnishings for it, we’ll have you for dinner.”
“I’ll take care of your furniture, Sunbeam,” Tislin said, shifting his back to the sun.
“Oh, no, no. I couldn’t possibly—”
“I’d like to take care of you.” Tislin brushed her arm. Air caught in her throat. “You cannot sleep on the floor, and I do not have to worry about these things for myself. Please. Let me worry about them for you.” He paused and gazed into Moira’s eyes. “And Kienna, of course.”
Moira smiled. “Of course. For Kienna’s sake, I’ll let you do it.”
Moira found an old broom tucked away in the privy room after Tislin left to broker deals for mattresses.
She was relieved to see a privy room with a tub for washing.
The copper tub sat cold in the corner, dulled to a lifeless brown with oxidized streaks of pale green along its rim.
Years of dust clung to the basin, but it was no bother.
Moira would polish it up again, find the water source, and soak in a long bath.
She ran her fingers along the rim, its greenish layers flaking at her touch.
She’d have to do more elbow work than she’d thought.
The cold metal turned warm at her touch, pulsing with a strange heat, almost as if it remembered something.
Her stomach fluttered with tiny kicks, and Moira inhaled sharply as the room vanished around her.
A cliff of black stone appeared, the wind screaming while flinging snow and ash through the sky.
Below, a ring of giants in fur and bronze raised axes to the storm, their chants echoing like thunder through the mountains.
In front of her stood Broan. Red light seared across his temple like a jagged bolt of lightning. The wind bent around him. Moira gasped.
Before she could react to the sight of him, the ground cracked, and blood-splattered antlers of a giant moose rose from the snow.
They were near mountains, the jagged spires crumbling.
The ring of warriors stood more than a foot taller than Moira.
She cowered before them as their axes rose in the air to slaughter the moose.
Staggering backward, she was thrust forward again by her child.
The little girl stood next to her as tears formed in Moira’s eyes.
“Why am I seeing this?”
The little girl pointed to Broan. “He’s the key to the throne and the ascension of the Ashborn.”
Silence filled Moira’s ears. She blinked, and the room returned, her vision adjusting back to the copper tub.
It was glowing beneath her fingertips, the bronze color reminding her of Broan with the way he would spark his magic and glow with the earth beneath him.
Moira knew he was special, but she hadn’t expected that he’d have anything to do with any throne or the Ashborn.
If it were Kienna, as she suspected, Broan would certainly scoff at the idea.
Perhaps her visions were like Kienna’s, never holding truth, but only fear of what she thought would happen.
Steadying her breath, Moira let go of the tub.
The glow faded as her fingers left its surface.
Tislin returned soon after with men hoisting up large furniture.
They took great care to step around the floorboards that were out of place, but by the end of it all, Moira and Kienna had fully furnished rooms, and their common room had a low setting sofa padded in faded velvet and a lounging chair for indulgence.
“Tislin, you were supposed to find mattresses,” Moira said, staring at an apartment that emulated a home. “We still have renovations to do.”
“We can move it as we go,” Tislin shrugged.
She liked the sound of it. The sound of we.
Tislin sat on the sofa and rested his eyes for a moment.
Moira wanted to sit next to him, lie her body against the crevice of his, and feel his warmth, but she took the chair instead and floated her hands to her abdomen.
She hadn’t realized it until then, but her feet ached.
Her gaze drifted back to Tislin. Though his eyes were closed, his expression was troubled. Shadows, black and smoky, clung to his feet, billowing around his ankles like mist. They weren’t usually so visible.
“What’s it like?” Moira asked. “Being a Shadowmaster, I mean.”
Tislin didn’t open his eyes. Just sighed. “The shadows answer me, but they don’t like me. They feed off pain, and the more I feel, the deeper I sink. It makes it easier to move unseen, though.”
Moira tilted her head. She didn’t realize Tislin was in pain. “Is that all you feel?”
Tislin sat up and finally opened his eyes. “No, I’m still a man. I’m capable of happiness…and love.”
She brought her hand to her cheeks to brush the heat away. What they could be if she could allow herself one moment of weakness. Her heart fluttered, though part of her feared Tislin’s life on the edge of darkness. How close was he to letting go and becoming something…other?