Chapter 5
Tiernan signs something as he jogs through the grassy pathway beside me.
I’m too busy trying to suck in more air to make out a word of what he says.
My ribs seem to tighten with each forceful breath.
I hunch over with my hands on my knees, closing my eyes against the spots of white and red that tarnish my vision.
It’s been two weeks since our arrival at the Verge.
Two weeks since I declared that I wanted to join the rebellion.
But where do I fit in? There are so many factions.
There are the Verge Defenders: the ones trained in combat to guard the Verge should the wards be broken; the Seekers: those who step beyond the wards to find and report back information; the Safeguards: combatants beyond the wards who lead rescue missions; and then the Masterminds: the high-ranking rebels who set up safehouses, collaborate with the Seekers and Safeguards to arrange rescues, and to dispatch information where needed.
Where I would fit in is still debated, as I’m considered too unprepared for anything beyond the wards, but too powerful to remain behind them.
I’ve been running every evening with Tiernan, training my Wielding and learning runes with Oksana in the morning, and working on dagger throwing with Chiyo somewhere in between.
I’m supposed to be sparring in the Skirmish Den with the other trainees, but Warden Ava, Alys’s daughter who oversees the training, says I’m not ready.
I should’ve known from the start it was a delusional goal. I have no athleticism to my name. My shadow wielding would provide the perfect shield should we fall into danger, but not if I can’t learn to control it consistently. And not if I can’t run without immediately becoming winded.
I plop onto my bottom in the grass, and just as I’m about to lay flat on my back, a firm pressure pulls my attention to my knee.
I look down, my vision still blurry, but I make out Tiernan’s hand there.
He gives my knee another squeeze, his voice filling my mind.
“Don’t lie down. Put your arms atop your head and take deep breaths. Give your lungs space to expand.”
My body, however, begs me to lie down. I could take a long nap right now. Reluctantly, I listen to his advice; I fold my arms atop my head and fight to breathe in deeply. My breath remains shallow for what feels like forever, until my pulse eventually slows down and my chest feels less crowded.
“Better?” Tiernan signs. His onyx eyes are filled with worry, light golden skin shining with perspiration.
I shake my head and sign, “I should have more stamina by now.”
“Durvla, it’s been only two weeks.”
I lower my hands to my lap and blink away the tears that try to arise.
“You’re pushing yourself too hard.”
“I need to prove to Ava I can be an asset.”
“Look,” says Tiernan. “She might be the Warden, but Dayfyd ranks higher than her. If we go to him—”
“No,” I interrupt a little too forcefully.
He sighs and places his hand on mine, his thumb stroking over the back of my palm.
The tiniest flutters go through me despite my exhaustion and frustration.
“It might not feel like it, but your stamina has improved. Perhaps it’s not as quickly as you’d like, but take it from me: you’re making progress.
On top of that, it’s hot as Lugda’s balls tonight. ”
A snorting laugh slips out and I clasp my hand over my mouth and nose. There’s a spark of amusement in Tiernan’s eyes, but he looks equally perplexed.
“That sounds like something Carys would say,” I explain.
The moment immediately sobers, guilt and sadness sinking into my gut.
Carys … who I’ve still not been able to dreamwalk to.
Not since that moment I’d been guided by the goddess Sunlagh; not since I learned from the goddess that the veil between the dream realm and the Underworld is thin.
A shudder runs through me, the hair standing on the back of my neck as I remember the goddess’s ethereal voice, and the voices of Ellynne and Aneirin—Carys’s closest friend and her brother—from beyond the land of the living.
The sun sinks lower on the horizon, grey clouds eclipsing the purple and orange streaks in the sky as a gentle breeze cools the sweat on my skin.
Now the air decides to give us a reprieve.
I inhale deeply, taking in the damp earth scent that clings to the air in the Verge.
It always gives it a deceptively balmy feeling even in the coolest temperatures.
Magelights come to life on the posts bordering the pathway.
Tiernan tilts his head, both brows raised in a question. “Are you alright?” he asks.
I nod. “Sorry to be a killjoy.”
Tiernan’s lips curve in a gentle smile. He stands and extends his hand, pulling me to my feet.
“You aren’t a killjoy,” he says. “That role is already taken, remember?” He winks, and this time, I smile despite myself.
His high cheekbones sharpen when he smiles, his dark eyes shimmery beneath the magelight shining from the lamppost. He nudges a few loose ringlets of hair from my sweaty face and smiles in a way that makes my stomach flip eagerly.
Since our arrival, we’ve been constantly pulled into various meetings and separate training sessions.
I’m grateful for the occasional job of identifying and cataloging herbs, as it’s given me something concrete to focus on, but with such a packed schedule most days, Tiernan and I haven’t found much time to be alone or to discuss our relationship.
“Ready to go home?” Tiernan asks.
“Yes, I’m in desperate need of a bath.”
We turn to head back down the pathway of smooth stone atop the manicured wild grasses that cover the land. Lush forests, enchanted with strong wards to keep out any unwanted guests, surround the Verge. Swampy trees border the far east and thicker, fuller birch trees hedge the west.
At this time of the evening, the residential area of the sanctuary is calm.
Sometimes there are bonfire celebrations in the square or larger dinners amongst families and friends.
Everything is easily attainable in the Verge.
Currency is not needed to buy anything. Instead, reasonable trades are arranged.
There’s a forge, a community garden, the Skirmish Den where fight training occurs, the armory, a small library, and plenty of homes for all the families here.
Right now, our house feels so far away, my body is exhausted from the day of training and the afternoon jog, and the dizziness setting in reminds me that I need to take a tonic once I’m back indoors.
A couple people cross our path, smiling politely. Tiernan and I smile back and continue walking.
Since coming to the Verge, I’ve been confronted with conflicting feelings of belonging and isolation. Back in Cluain Baile, I hid my ailment, my deafness, and the existence of my little brother. Here, none of those things matter, but my powers do.
People gawk at me sometimes when I’m out and about.
The woman with dark magic. No one truly knows the extent of my powers.
We’ve kept my dreamwalking a secret, but my shadows tend to show themselves when I’m not trying to summon them, so word spread quickly.
This place may be accepting of everyone, but Basduunai were executed, even by other magic users once upon a time.
Who’s to say history won’t repeat itself?
Fear can drive even the kindest hearts to violence.
So, as far as people know, I’m just a botanist who happens to also be a Shadow Wielder.
The only Verge resident who knows of my dreamwalking is Dayfyd, Alys’s husband and the second in command.
Tiernan’s arm loops around my lower back, tugging me closer to his side as we continue walking. “A shilling for your thoughts?” he asks into my head.
“Nothing important.”
He stops walking right beneath the flood of light from a magelamp and gently turns me toward him. “That’s a brave move—lying to a Mind Whisperer.” There’s the tiniest glint of amusement in his angular eyes.
“Unless my thoughts are just being loud again, I know that you don’t read me.”
“Oh? And you’re certain of this?”
“I trust you.” How could I not when he gave up his stability and status for me?
The playful smile on his face melts into something more pensive. “I’m honored,” he says into my mind. “I would never do anything to betray your trust.” His face inches closer and the bands that constantly squeeze my chest loosen as our lips meet in a gentle caress.
I catch the shadow of a figure moving past us as I close my eyes.
Our lips part, but Tiernan’s forehead rests against mine, one hand clenching slightly on my waist as if he’s reluctant to release me.
In my periphery, a couple more people walk by, followed by even more until we pull back from each other and glance around.
“Alright, what is going on?” I sign, watching a few children walk past, their adults not far behind.
Tiernan points behind me and I turn just as a figure speeds toward us, pulling a wagon behind her. Chiyo.
My stomach drops as I take in her frantic expression. Her chest heaves with effortful breaths, her fair skin flushed pink.
“What’s happening?” Tiernan asks her.
She pulls a clip from her pocket and makes quick work of winding up her blue-dyed and brown hair into a bun. Within the wagon, Taig is beaming up at the magelamp above, his curls bouncing as he rocks side to side contentedly.
“The chief just called an urgent meeting in the courtyard,” Chiyo signs. My stomach sinks.
If the chief has called everyone out of their homes at night, it must be serious. I swallow my fear and bend just enough to drop a kiss onto Taig’s forehead. When eyes meet mine for the briefest moment, his smile widens. Then he goes back to staring at the magelamp.