LOGINPoint of View: Kieran“The carving is old, Kieran. Older than Briar. Older than the fight on the ridge. And it is still warm to the touch.”The scout said it in a rush, before he had even climbed down from his horse. Bram, from the eastern border patrol, was a young man with mud on his cheek and fear in his eyes. He had ridden all night. We met him at the edge of the camp as the sun came up grey and thin over the roofs, four of us hollow with tiredness, still smelling of the ridge.Rhen had hardly said a word since we came back. She had run straight to Briar’s bed, checked her sleeping face, checked it again, and only then let herself breathe. Briar had woken to find her mother beside her, exactly as promised, and had wrapped both arms around her neck. I had watched from the door and felt my heart do something painful and beautiful.Now Rhen stood next to me in the morning cold, arms folded, listening.“Slow down,” I said. “Where did you find this carving?”“North and east of the old
Point of View: Rhen“Promise you will come back before I wake up.”Briar whispered it against my neck, her arms wound tight around me, her small body hot and trembling. The evening was going blue outside the window. Behind her, Elara stood waiting in the doorway with a lantern, and Wren sat by the fire, calm as stone, ready to guard the night.“I promise,” I said.“What if you forget?”“I never forget you. Not ever.”“Not even if the hill talks to you?”My heart lurched. I kissed her forehead and held my lips there a moment too long.“I will be back before the moon goes down, my love. I swear on your grandmother’s name.”“Okay.” She sniffled bravely. “Do not hum, Mama.”“I will not.”Elara laid a gentle hand on my shoulder as I passed. “She will be safe. I have never let anyone down at a door in my life.”“I know.” I swallowed hard. “That is exactly why I am leaving her with you.”The ride to the ridge took two hours in the dark. Kieran rode at my side, Dorian and Sable a little behin
Point of View: Kieran“We are not running,” I told my wife, and I watched her face crumble, because running was exactly what she wanted to do.It was the morning after the note. We stood in the bedroom with the shutters half closed, and Rhen was packing a travel bag with quick, stiff movements. A wool blanket. A loaf of bread. Briar’s wooden wolf. She did not look at me while she did it.“Rhen, put the bag down.”“We can go to the coast. My mother’s cousin had a cottage there. No one would know us.”“Someone already knows us. Someone knows our daughter’s name.”“Then we go farther!” She spun around, and her eyes were wild. “We go where no letters can reach us, where no ash can find a windowsill. I will do anything, Kieran, anything to keep her from standing where I stood!”“Your mother ran,” I said quietly. “And something still found you.”The bag fell from her hands.I did not say it to hurt her. I said it because it was true, and because every kind lie I could have told her would ha
Point of View: Rhen“Mama, sing the one with the crooked words.”I stared down at my daughter in the moonlight. She lay curled in our big bed between Kieran and me, her hair wild against the pillow, her eyes wide open at an hour when she should have been deep in dreams. I had never sung her any song like that.“Which song, my love?”“The one you know. The one that Grandmother hummed when you were small and hurt.”The room went cold, though the fire still glowed in the hearth. Kieran was asleep, or pretending to be, his breathing slow and even. We had moved Briar into our room after the ash on her windowsill, and none of us had slept properly since.“How do you know what Grandmother hummed?”Briar did not answer. She closed her eyes, and her small lips parted, and a soft tune began to spill out of her, low and strange. It wandered up in odd little steps and dropped back down, like someone counting stairs in the dark.I knew it.The knowledge hit me like a wave against the chest. I was
Point of View: Kieran“She is not sleeping in that room tonight. Not one more night until we know who has been near her window.”Rhen said it standing in the doorway of Briar’s bedroom, her arms crossed, her jaw tight. She had come straight from the stables with Odric’s letter burning a hole in her sleeve, and she had told me everything in six short sentences. I had not said a word. I did not trust myself to.Now the morning sun cut across the small room, over the wooden animals and the little blue quilt and the round window that looked out toward the fence. Dorian stood beside the bed with one hand resting flat against the wall, his eyes half closed. Sable hovered behind him like a shadow with a sword.“I feel it,” Dorian said quietly. “Very faint. Like a hand pressed on the other side of a door.”“Do not do that,” Sable said sharply. “Do not go looking for it.”“I am not looking. It is just there.”“Dorian.”He opened his eyes and gave her a tired, crooked smile. “I know, love. Thre
Point of View: Rhen“Tell me who sent you that question, Odric, or I will find out the hard way. I promise you I am not bluffing.”I was not proud of the sound in my voice. It came out low and flat, a voice from the old days, before laws and lanterns and gentle mornings. But my daughter was sleeping across the yard, and I had not slept at all.Dawn was barely a grey line on the horizon. I had found Odric behind the stables, alone, checking the strap of his saddle bag like a man planning to leave without saying goodbye. The horses shifted in their stalls. The air smelled of straw and cold iron.“You are up early,” he said carefully.“You are leaving early.”“My pack needs word from the talks.”“Your pack can wait. Answer me. How did you know about the humming?”His shoulders sagged. Just a little. Then he reached slowly into his coat, and I took one step back, my hand already curled at my side, ready to shift. He noticed. He stopped.“I am not reaching for a weapon,” he said. “Only for







