Patience, Little Bird
GAbrIEL
If someone had asked me before I met Wren if I got nervous easily, I would have laughed. I had never experienced nerves, not really.
But now?
Now my fingers are laced through Wren’s, and the light pink butterflies flitting around us—a sure sign spring is well underway—aren’t the only ones present. My stomach is filled with them, and the nerves are getting worse as I lead Wren deep into the woods.
My gods-blessed has been peppering me with questions about our destination since we left the camp, but other than my reassurance that we are, in fact, staying within the net’s boundaries—a requirement for everyone save a few guards who are authorized to leave the protective barrier for short periods of time—I’ve kept it a secret.
I wouldn’t say I derive enjoyment from torturing Wren in this way, but she does make the most adorable sounds of frustration when she’s annoyed. I keep having to bite back a smile every time she huffs, and I’m fairly certain she’s noticed.
“Where are we going, Gabriel?” Wren asks again as we come up to a stream.
The water is high, reaching the tops of the banks thanks to the rain that has steadily been falling all week. My arm had been bothering me, the rain prodding at my old injury and reminding me that blessed salve, though helpful, isn’t an instant cure for anything.
Daily thunderstorms started the night after Wren added her magic to Grandmother’s amulet, and today is the first dry day since then.
“Patience, little bird.” I kiss our joined fingers before untangling them. “We’re almost there. I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”
Her gaze sweeps over me for a long moment before she dips her head. “I do trust you, Gabe, but let me warn you”—she pins me with a glare that has me wanting to kiss her—“if this involves running in any way, shape, or form, I’ll be very upset.”
I chuckle, unable to help myself. “No running, I promise.”
“Good. I’d hate to be angry with you.”
“I certainly wouldn’t enjoy it, either.” Turning my attention back to the water, I scan the surface. There’s no bridge, but we need to get to the other side, so we walk across a series of stepping stones.
The crossing is perilous, and Wren almost falls in, but I catch her, and we make it to the opposing shore.
“Come on, Wren.” I squeeze her fingers once we’ve found our footing. “We need to go, or we’ll be late.”
She pauses. “Late for what?” I can feel her curious gaze on me. “What’s going on, Gabe?”
I pause long enough to kiss her and murmur “Patience” against her lips before we continue. I didn’t keep this surprise for days only to spoil it now.
Mist meets up with us a short while later, rubbing against Wren’s leg in greeting. She pulls her hand out of mine and crouches, lavishing my familiar with love. I watch on, bemused that Mist has a new favorite.
I don’t blame her—Wren has stolen my heart, too.
After a few minutes, we continue through the forest until we physically can’t anymore. A glistening blue-green wall stands in our path, blocking us from going further.
The net, I’ve learned, is actually a half dome.
On the other side of the barrier, the forest is thick.
Emerald leaves dangle from lush, moss-covered trees.
Evergreens mingle with oaks and bushes covered in unripe berries.
Flowers sprout from the ground. A rabbit runs past, and squirrels hop across branches.
They are so close, and yet so far.
Wren peers at the net, then back to me. “Why are we here, Gabe?”
Those butterflies have returned, and they are fluttering in my stomach. I swallow, my mouth dry, and lead Wren over to a stump. She sits, and I perch on the edge beside her.
“Little bird.” I graze my thumb across the back of her hand. “Wren. We’ve been through a lot together.”
We’ve tackled issues that some couples who have been together for years never have to deal with.
She nods slowly, and it’s almost as if I can see the cogs turning in her mind. “Yes, we have.”
“And we got off to a rocky start.”
Another nod.
I turn her hand over and trace the lines on the inside of her palm, gathering my words. “Coming with me and following the Trail of Wilted Roses was a lot. Especially since you had to leave your sisters behind.”
Her bottom lip wobbles before she bites down on it. Drawing a deep breath, she steadies herself. “Yeah. It was . . . awful.”
Mist comes up beside my gods-blessed, purring and rubbing her head along Wren’s legs.
“It was necessary, but I know it wasn’t easy.” Even now, I hate remembering the despondency that had overtaken Wren as we rode away from Rosebridge.
I stand because sitting doesn’t feel right for this. The fluttering in my stomach worsens as two pairs of eyes, one violet and one silver, watch me.
“It wasn’t safe, before,” I say. “Between the soldiers and the way the king is hunting you . . .”
“I know. Leaving them behind was the right thing to do. But Gabe, why are we here? Why are we reliving what was one of the worst nights of my life? Why . . .”
Wren’s voice trails off while the air around us shifts. Leaves rustle, and Mist slowly straightens, her tail lowering as she looks beyond the net at my back.
I don’t turn around. Not yet. I don’t want to look away from Wren, don’t want to miss the moment she realizes what’s happening.
It doesn’t take long. A heartbeat passes, maybe two, before her eyes widen. Silver lines them, and her bottom lip trembles. Her shaking hand rises, covering her mouth, and she slides off the stump. I take her elbow, holding it to keep her steady.
Slowly, she lowers her hand, clutching at my fingers.
“Gabe.” My name is a hoarse whisper on her lips. “This is . . . How did you . . . Did you do this for me?”
It’s my turn to nod.
She inhales sharply, and tears trail down her cheeks. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for this.”
“There is no need for that.” Brushing away her tears with my thumbs, I gaze into her eyes. “Seeing you happy is more than enough.”
Her smile is watery, and then she’s pulling away from me. She takes a trembling step towards the net, extending her fingers, and I turn around as she brushes the shimmering air, magic crackling beneath her touch.
Standing on the other side of the barrier, less than ten feet away, are the twins. They aren’t alone.
“Hi, girls.” Wren’s voice cracks. “I missed you so, so much.”
One of the twins, I’m not sure which one, whimpers. “We missed you, too.”
Wren sobs, a wretched sound that twists my heart, and I place my hand on her shoulder. She covers it with hers and looks up at me, her eyes wide. “Thank you, Gabe.”
The words are quiet, barely there, but they resonate inside me. All the trouble I went through to make this happen, all the sneaking out and talking to Alaric and sending letters was worth it, because it’s made Wren happy.
For a moment, we stand there, taking in the group of six on the other side of the divide. Maia, dressed in black riding leathers with her hair in a braid, is next to a tall man with dark skin and charcoal eyes. His hair is short, and he is a warrior through and through.
My best friend, Theon.
Beside them are two others—Alaric and an older rebel who I’ve often seen working with the seer. I don’t know his name.
And of course, the reason we’re all there—the twins. They look healthy, wearing tunics and tight pants made for hiking. Their hair is pulled back, and they’re both staring at my gods-blessed with tears in their eyes.
A long, seemingly never-ending moment passes where no one moves or speaks. Then a bird calls somewhere in the forest. The silence shatters, and one of the twins darts forward.
“Birdie!” She races for the net, hand outstretched, but before she can touch it, an arm snakes out and yanks her back.
“Don’t touch it,” Alaric warns.
“What?” the twin asks.
“The magic on this side will kill on impact,” he explains. “There are spots in the top of the net enchanted to allow birds and insects through, but no exceptions exist down here.”
Blood drains from the twin’s face, and she takes a trembling step back. At the same time, Wren brushes up against me, and I feel her shiver as her hand reaches for mine.
Now that Alaric has drawn attention to it, evidence of the net’s lethality is all around us. The forest is lush, but nothing is touching the glistening barrier. No leaves, no branches, no animals.
A dragonfly flutters on the other side of the net, and then it hits the barrier. Blue-green sparks fly. The insect falls to the ground.
Dead.
A beat of silence passes as we all regard the dragonfly, then Alaric steps forward with the other rebel.
“This is Wendell,” the captain says, gesturing to the older man who appears to be in his fourth or fifth decade of life. Wendell’s skin is a dark brown, and an old burn scar runs up the side of his neck. A wilting rose is tattooed under his left ear. “He’s Blessed, and he’s here to help.”
Wendell raises his left hand in greeting, and yellow embers float around it.
“We will have sixty seconds to pass through the barrier once I’ve temporarily dismantled it.
” He looks at each person in turn, waiting for them to nod, before he moves on to the next.
“Any longer, and we risk endangering all those who live here. Understood?”
A chorus of agreement rises, and Wendell instructs everyone to step back. Wren stays by my side, and I rest my hand on the small of her back, keeping her close.
A sunshine yellow flame flickers in Wendell’s palm. His brows furrow, and he steps closer to the net. Murmuring under his breath, he paces in front of the barrier for several minutes before kneeling. Hand extended, he reaches for the shimmering magic.
The air itself seems to hold its breath as the flame slowly ascends.
It hovers before shifting towards the barrier, and the flame crawls over the net before it disappears.
A crackle comes from all around us, and then a gap in the wall appears.
It’s no more than ten feet wide, but where the net used to stand, now there is nothing but a dark line gouged in the dirt.
The demarcation is stark—there isn’t a single blade of grass growing where the net had been.
Wendell stands so fast, his knees crack.
“Quickly,” he urges. “Go now.”
There’s a rush as everyone moves towards the gap at once. The twins lurch past the line, diving into Wren’s waiting arms. The trio dissolves into tears, clinging to one another, sobbing and talking so fast, I don’t know what they’re saying.
Maia and Theon are close behind. Alaric moves to Wendell’s side, and they make it through the net moments before the air crackles.
Wendell turns towards the net, yellow sparks like lightning bugs flitting around his fingers, forming a flame. Silently, he lobs the fire towards the lush forest.
The magic sails in an arc, but it never hits the trees on the other side. There’s a whoosh, and then the shimmering barrier is back in place.
I exhale, blowing out a long breath as Theon makes it to my side. My oldest friend bumps his shoulder against mine, the gesture familiar. I grin, hugging him and slapping his back.
“Theon,” I say warmly. “It’s been far too long.”
“It has. And it appears you have been very busy.”
I glance at Wren, who is still hugging her sisters. “I have.”
“We have much to discuss,” Theon adds, tugging me away from the others. “Your father is livid, Gabe.”
“I expect he is.”
I also do not give a fuck what he thinks. My father could die tomorrow, and I couldn’t care less. In fact, it would make my life a lot easier if he did.
“He has been experiencing fits of rage,” Theon continues, his voice hushed.
“His emotions are more volatile than normal. Even Father is commenting on it, saying he’s never seen the king like this.
He’s been so busy dealing with that, he even pushed aside dealing with Maia’s marital status—or lack thereof—for the time being. ”
“Oh?” Theon and Maia’s father, Samir, is the Hand of the King. He has held the position for decades and is instrumental in the running of the country.
Or so I was always told.
But seeing as how everything I ever thought was true has been proven to be a lie, I am holding room for doubt.
Theon gazes over at Wren. I follow his gaze automatically, my eyes unwilling to stray from Wren for long.
“Is she worth throwing your life away?” he asks.
Wren is hugging her sisters, her Mark a jewel on her forehead as happy tears flow down her face.
I stare at her for a long moment, warmth curling inside me. “Yeah. She is worth everything.”