Chapter 55
—Moira—
Moira wrapped Kienna in a tight embrace, clinging to her. She felt different from the way she had the night before, surer of herself. She had an aura about her that reassured Moira of the world’s impending balance. “You’ll come back, right?”
Kienna held her cheeks and kissed her on the forehead. “You are the one who brought life to us, Moira. Me, Danek, and Broan. I hope you know how much we needed you in River Storm.” She tilted her head. “You could come with us, you know. You don’t have to stay here.”
Moira desperately needed to hear those words. Part of her wanted to go with them so she wouldn’t have to be alone. She decided against it. “I can’t join your warpath.” Her hand caressed her stomach, a single tear falling from her dark lashes. “I’ll miss you.”
“Ash will check in on you.” Kienna caressed Moira’s cheek. “You make sure to let him in.” With a tear of her own, Kienna swiped her cheek and said, “I’ll be back for you.”
They hugged once more before Kienna turned.
Dove Port smelled of rain, even before the clouds rolled in.
The waves in the Lysiria crashed heavily onto the shore as fishermen anchored boats, yelling over the loud alarm of the seagulls flying overhead.
The hint of storms in the sky carried wet earth, an exhale of revitalization in the battered city.
Moira would miss them—her Guardians. As she watched Kienna, Connak, and Ruva head to the trees, she realized she could learn to be alone.
She could raise her baby in the very likeness of herself and the people she looked up to most. She’d tell her daughter about the woman who saved a helpless city and almost died doing it.
The woman who commanded with a giant wolf at her side.
And the man who healed beyond everything he had, caring for every living soul.
She laughed, imagining the stories she’d tell of Broan.
She certainly would recall the Shadowmaster who saved his brother as a child and gave up his soul for it.
The man who loved her despite his shadows.
Those were the stories worth telling.
“Hello, Moira.”
Moira’s skin grew cold. The sun was gone, clouds rolling in.
She almost refused to turn around. Once she did, it would solidify a course she didn’t want.
Swallowing hard, she allowed herself to face the voice.
Two men stood before her: a pale Elvish man and one of dark skin with the deepest brown eyes she had ever seen.
Eyes that she knew. Her heart trembled before it shattered.
In all the stories she imagined telling her daughter about, she never once thought of a story she would tell her about Rhior.
“Just like that? They pulled you out?” Moira sat with him in The Elarent House as the storm bellowed outside, screaming for refuge. The firelight dimmed, casting harsh shadows across Rhior’s face.
He wiped at the bridge of his nose, exhaustion playing a cruel trick on them both. “The soldiers returned from war, and two of them snuck in. They had to pull me through the river to get out.”
“How’d you get across the bridge?” Moira asked. None of it mattered. She was simply stalling to avoid the bigger conversation at play. What was to become of them now that he was there? She didn’t want to face any of it. “And how’d you fare in the desert?”
Rhior picked at a plate of food in front of him, staring at the duck covered in Grinmelle’s special sauce. He did not seem impressed by the flavors. “The desert was nothing. I found it lovely.” He put his fork down, then placed his elbows on the table, folding his hands together. “How are you?”
“Me?” Moira searched him to see if he was truly being genuine.
His eyes didn’t budge. Rhior glared straight into Moira’s soul. He pressed his fists to his mouth, waiting patiently.
“I’m well.”
“You don’t look well.”
The rain pattered against the windows of The Elarent House. Another shriek wailed. Moira pulled on the long sleeves of her dress, hoping to hide bits of herself under the fabric.
Rhior leaned forward, taking her hand. “Would you come back to River Storm with me?”
Moira didn’t have to think to know how absurd a question like that was.
Fueled by anger, she stood, yanking her hand away.
She didn’t give him an answer, nor did she explain at all.
She simply turned and stalked out into the rain.
All this time between them, all this space, reminded her of why it was easy to forget about him.
Her body flamed with agony, her child kicking against her stomach.
She clutched her womb, balancing herself as her vision swirled with the rain.
Droplets swam in circles until she stood in the desert, staring at an ugly creature masked with fabrics and metal.
Its eyes were deep with color, near black-brown, heavy with shadow and heat.
Whispers of an unknown language filled the air as the bright sun beat relentlessly.
Moira’s daughter appeared again, pointing at it. Sand erupted from the ground, flinging around the creature. The little girl whispered, “Beware—”
“Moira!” Rhior yelled through the storm. Moira’s vision faded. She had never experienced being pulled out of one like this before. They were certainly increasing the further she got along in this pregnancy.
Hiding her concern, she turned to see Rhior running behind her, rain soaking through his dark clothes.
His garments tightened against his skin, revealing the folds of his muscles.
He was thinner, similar to how he had been when she first met him.
He’d gotten stronger and far more successful over the short period between their first meeting and their first act of love.
What struggles did he go through since the Guardians left River Storm for good?
“I’m sorry,” Rhior said. “I wasn’t sure if you still loved our home or not.”
“This is my home. I love it here. I’m staying here.”
“Yes, of course. We’ll stay here.”
Moira held her gaze steadily despite how the sound of we rolled off his tongue.
As if no time had passed. As if he hadn’t sent her away without him.
As if she hadn’t fallen in love with Tislin.
She chewed the side of her cheek. The rain beat harder, clinging to Rhior’s hair. He stared at her expectantly.
“I don’t know, Rhior. So much time has passed—”
“Our baby,” he said, pushing his brows together. He dared to step closer. “I deserve to be part of its life.”
“I think I need time to—”
“Of course. I will find a place for myself until you’re ready.”
Moira’s eyes fell to the ground. Falling water sent ripples through the puddles on the cobblestones.
She didn’t have the heart to send him away for good, and she certainly didn’t want him to have to suffer his way through Dove Port.
“I could use some help at my home. The battle here did some damage. I have a spare room. We should get to know each other. At least for the sake of our daughter.”
“Anything for you, Moira.”
Moira steadied her heart. When she was ready, she led Rhior next door. They went up the stairs together. When she showed him the broken apartment, he said little. He pulled at the loose planks. “What’s that smell?” he asked.
“War. We’ll need to burn most of what’s in the room over there.” She pointed to Kienna’s room. “Your room is on the other side of the terrace.”
Rhior nodded and headed into the empty room. There was only one chair. Moira intended to fill it with a cradle and possibly handmade toys for the baby. She would ask Ash for all that when time settled between the hurt of the war. For now, Rhior could have it.
Moira stood in the doorway, watching him look around with disinterest. He smiled at her anyway. “This’ll do. I’ll find work soon to help you.”
“I’ll find you blankets. Unfortunately, I don’t have a change of clothes for you—”
“I’ll make do.” Rhior waved his hand, reaching for the buttons on his shirt. “You get rest. You look exhausted.”
Moira pressed her lips into the faintest smile in return.
She was exhausted. The war and the grief of loss weighed heavily on her, but that wasn’t why her mind couldn’t rest that night.
Her vision pressed into her thoughts. She’d never seen that creature before.
It was something awful, hissing its words in the sun’s intensity.
Evil lived within its spirit, and her daughter wanted her to see it.
She wanted Moira to know that it existed.
There was a warning there. Was it to warn her for the sake of her friends? For the sake of the war?
She wanted to summon the vision back. In fact, she wanted to summon all of them back. She’d ignored them, existing in a bubble. Her baby kept pushing visions instead. And then Dove Port was destroyed, and her friends nearly died.
Moira wasn’t sure what role these visions were playing, but they had to mean something.
She couldn’t figure them out, but she intended to find someone who could help her.
First, Rhior was right. She needed sleep if she was going to take on a new journey with him, whatever that looked like.
She’d figure that out later as well. “Good night,” she said softly.
“Sweet dreams.”