Chapter 19
Slán Agat
The ride back to Lumora was quiet, almost serene.
The steady beat of hooves mixed with the gentle whisper of leaves in the breeze.
Autumn had painted the land. The bright greens of summer were fading into golds and oranges, though the change wasn’t quite finished.
Sorcha rode beside Riona, guiding her horse, Shadow.
She tried to find peace in the ride, but her thoughts kept returning to the kelpie.
The unsettling song still echoed in her mind, along with the image of Eirin and Emry, both under its spell, drawn toward the water as if they were different people.
Trying to shake off the unsettling thoughts, she glanced at her friends and spoke.
“Did we get everything we needed for the festival?” Riona, on Briar ahead of them, turned with a raised eyebrow. “Of course, we did. You think I’d let us come back empty handed?”
Rhosyn, her arms protectively around a bundle of silks and spices tied to her saddle, added, “I double-checked everything before we left. The festival planners will be ecstatic. We have spices, silks, crafted bowls, and more. The town will look amazing.”
“And the dresses,” Emry chimed in from the back, his voice teasing as he looked at Riona. “Because those were, obviously, essential to the mission.”
Riona turned in her saddle and grinned at him. “Don’t pretend you weren’t admiring them, Emry. I saw you.”
“Guilty,” Emry admitted, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s hard not to appreciate art when it’s right in front of you.”
Sorcha smiled slightly. “Good. I don’t think I could face the planners if we’d forgotten something important. They’d send us right back.”
Eirin, who had been silent most of the ride, finally spoke, his voice calm but quiet. “You’re all worrying too much. The festival will happen, just like every year. Let’s focus on that instead of… other things.”
Though he didn’t say it, Sorcha knew he was trying to put the kelpie out of his mind, just like her. She nodded, glancing at him.
“You’re right. Besides, I need to figure out how to upstage Rhosyn in her dress.”
Riona laughed, her braid catching the sunlight as she turned in her saddle. “Good luck with that. Did you see the embroidery on mine? You’ll need a miracle.”
Sorcha grinned, her competitive side emerging. “We’ll see about that. Maybe I’ll add extra flowers to my hair. Or pearls. You won’t know what hit you.”
Rhosyn, who’d been silently watching, finally spoke. “You’re both fighting a losing battle,” she said with a sly smile. “I’ve already outdone you both.”
Sorcha turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “I loved the artwork on your dress. Did you get the orange one?”
“I did. It’s burnt orange with green leaves embroidered on the hem and bodice,” Rhosyn said, pride in her voice. “And tiny beads sewn into the leaves. They shimmer just enough to catch the light without being too much.”
“It is beautiful,” Sorcha conceded, a little envious.
Emry chuckled softly. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ll all outshine everyone at the festival. And if anyone asks, I’ll take the credit for the dresses.”
“Oh, you would,” Riona said with a playful glare. “Anything to take credit for our success.”
Lumora’s spires shone gold in the fading light, the city buzzing with festival preparations. The air thrummed with music, the scent of spiced wine thick in the air. As they passed through the gates, Sorcha exhaled, realizing she’d been holding her breath.
Home.
The familiar sights and sounds of Lumora welcomed them, a comforting wave. Though the kelpie’s haunting song still echoed in her mind, the city’s energy and the festival preparations were a welcome distraction.