Chapter Eighteen- Beyond The Broken Ford

Seren's POV

The North didn't take kindly to us.

We travelled for two days without any banners or crests. Six people wearing plain grey cloaks. I was stuck in between Rysen and his horse due to him refusing to let me ride alone. I argued but just got a look from him as he stared between my stomach and my face. "Pick a different fight, Isa." I tried to argue about something else but lost again.

The landscape began to change, the rolling green fields became patches of shrubs, then the black rocks. Before long the snow started to fall, at first like ashen feathers but soon fell heavily enough to silence everything around me. My breath became visible. My locket stayed warm against my skin beneath my cloak. I kept my hand over it to protect it.

"You're quiet." Rysen said sometime after midday on the second day.

"I'm trying to feel her."

"Your mom?"

"Everyone." I swallowed. "I reach out and there's nothing, just cold."

His arm tightened around my waist. "Maybe you're not feeling it yet."

"Very wise coming from the man who ate an entire roasted chicken this morning."

"I'm full of surprises." He kissed my hair and I felt his smile against my skin. For a moment the cold didn't bother me.

---

The broken ford was exactly as it sounded. A river that used to be crossed over using a stone bridge, now was a raging torrent of black water. Ice covered the banks. Half the bridge was missing and the remaining half jutted over the water.

"Nobody goes across that. Not this time of year and not with a pregnant Luna." Dren said. She was the eldest of us. Her scarred face remained silent except for ten words since we left.

"My mum did."

"She wasn't carrying two."

Rysen jumped off his horse and scooped me up. He set me down onto my feet easily. His hand stayed on my elbow. We stood at the edge of the water. My hood blew in the wind. Something stirred in my chest.

The wolf was awake. She was pushing against my ribs from the inside. She was tugging me towards the bridge. But not across it. She was pulling me along the bank to the east. The river narrowed and a cluster of black pines stood above the river.

"This way." I said.

"Seren..."

"This way. I can feel it."

He looked at me for a while then nodded sharply. The others formed a line behind us. I placed my hand on my stomach as I walked into the snow. My instincts guided me.

It wasn't far. Maybe a quarter of a mile. The trees were thick and the snow fell in clumps. Soon the pines opened up to reveal a cave. A little hut sat nestled in the cliff side.

It was made of stone. Short. With a thatched roof covered in frost. The door was very small and a grown man would have to bend down to enter. There was a carved wolf above the door. Time had worn it down. Next to it were two scrawled letters carved in by a child.

I + T

I choked.

"Isolde and Thorne." Rysen said behind me. "They used to play here. She mentioned it in her letter."He's forgotten it," I whispered. "That's what she said. He forgot."

I placed my hand flat against the door. It was warm.

---

I should have knocked. Waited. Or sent Dren in first. But instead I pushed the door open.

The smell hit me instantly. Smoke and dried herbs. Something sweet. And something so familiar it made my knees buckle. I didn't know what it was. I had never smelt it before. But somehow my body did. And it had been waiting to tell me for nineteen years.

Mine.

The hut was a single room. There was a small fire burning in the embers. A small bed with a patchwork quilt. Shelves lined with jars and herbs. A kettle hung on a hook. Two small well worn boots were drying by the fire. On top of the table sat a bowl of half eaten barley soup.

Someone had been here an hour ago. Or less.

"She's alive!" I gasped.

"Wait, Seren." Rysen grabbed my wrist gently and moved in front of me. He was serious. His eyes scanned the corners. "Stay behind me. If this is a trap..."

"It isn't."

"How can you be sure?"

"I can." I ran my hand along the wall next to the door. There were a dozen lines carved into the stone. Each had a tiny notch next to them. Measurements. A child had been measured here. Year after year. The tallest line had the word ‘Thorne’ carved into it. The next line down had the same word but in different handwriting. ‘Isolde’.

Much lower down there was another line. This one was fresh. Still had dust in the grove.

Isa. Born.

The date underneath was the date I was told was my birthday.

I laughed. "She carved it! She came here. No matter what she did, no matter where she ran she came here. And carved my name. Like saying this is where we start again."

"Look at the fire." I said to Rysen.

He glanced at it then followed my gaze. In the embers there was a small pot. And something else. Sitting straight up on the hearth stone. Like it had been placed there.

Another locket. Exactly the same as mine. Silver. Tarnished. Chain broken.

"She's been waiting. She knew you'd come." Rysen said quietly.

"No." I shook my head. "She hoped."

I knelt. My back complained. I picked it up. It was cold. I knew. My locket had been warm for days. This was just a lump of metal. I flipped it over. On the back there was a small amount of writing carved in with a sharp object.

Behind you.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"Rysen."

He moved. Faster than I had ever seen him move. He turned quickly. Standing between me and the door. The others charged in. Dren's sword whistled.

The quilt on the small bed stirred.

A woman sat up.

She had been laying under the patchwork quilt. Motionless. Her hand wrapped around the hilt of a long knife. Leaning against her thigh. Her hair was black with streaks of white. Her face was chiselled by the wind and weather. Too many winters alone. Her eyes were the colour of ice.

My eyes.

She looked at Rysen's sword. Then Dren's. Then the six strangers filling her small home. Her face didn't change. No fear. No anger. No shock.

Then her gaze landed on me. Kneeling on her hearth stone. Locket in my hand. Her face softened instantly.

"Isa."

Her voice was raspy. I had tried so hard to remember it for nineteen years but had never heard it.

Her knife clattered to the floor.

"Don't move. Don't." Rysen said. His voice was low. He was still alert. "Who are you?"

She didn't look away. Tears streamed down her beautiful but damaged face.

"I waited outside your door until dawn." Isolde Varn whispered. "And I have ever since."

---

I just want to make a quick note. In Chapter Seventeen there was a sentence that said "The footsteps in Chapter Four, at my own door." This was a mistake and should have said "The footsteps outside my door that first night." Also in that scene Rysen was outside the door so I have left it as "outside your door" in this chapter. Would you like me to go further and write Chapter Nineteen? Reunion. What she knows about Thorne?