Page 26 of Homeward for a Spell

Sage nods once, then turns for the clearing to summon the others.

10

Araphi

It’s been a long, painful day.

Without the horses to ride, blisters formed and popped hours ago on Araphi’s heels as the party marched through the forest toward Hexham, the village Remy swears can resupply them. Now her injured arm aches, pain shoots up her leg with every step, and new blisters seem to be forming on top of the old ones, but she will not stop walking, not even to ask Bramble for a salve. She can just hear Remy’s snide comment: See, this is why we didn’t need a bard. Can’t even walk a few miles.

No. She won’t give him the satisfaction. Nor will she give Sage any reason to further regret bringing her on the adventure.

Araphi glances over her shoulder. It’s after midday, and the party moves along a wide forest path. A chill snakes through the air, and emerald-dark pines, orange-leafed oaks, and red maples overhang them, creating a dense canopy. Remy and Bramble walk side by side behind Araphi, discussing the merits of living near the sea. Because of Tea’s twisted ankle, which Bramble had wrapped and insisted would heal within a day or two, the scholar wizard rides Reaper, clutching her remaining book like a life raft. At the back of the party, Nura walks with her staff at hand for any trouble. Sage walks at the head of the party, confident and leaderly.

Araphi tries to borrow some of Sage’s confidence, but worries niggle away at her.

Remy’s been sparing in the details about Hexham, but hopefully he’s right, and there will be beds, food, and supplies so they can keep heading north without further delay.

But even with a bed for the night, does Araphi really want to keep going? Perhaps all this misadventure is reason enough for her to leave the party. Perhaps she’s already seen and done enough and should cut her losses, returning to Ashaway at once.

You’re not done being Phi Runesong yet, though, are you? whispers a voice in her mind, decidedly not Clauneck.

She isn’t, and in fact, she feels like she’s barely gotten started.

Another pain in her heel wrenches her mind back to the leaf-strewn trail and the many miles still ahead of them.

Just. Keep. Walking.

Even though everything hurts.

Araphi puts one foot in front of the other. Her lute bangs against her back with every step, and under the bandage on her forearm, her wound from the wolf’s barb throbs. A rash of bug bites itches along her neck. Her back muscles are knots piled upon knots from sleeping on the ground last night with no tent and little bedding. And worst of all, guilt still coils in her stomach, sour and burning, every time she thinks about losing the horses.

Yet, there’s some part of her—the daring, hopeful, Phi Runesong part of her—whispering that perhaps it isn’t all bad.

Yes, she almost got eaten by an enormous wolf, but in doing so she learned she’s braver than she’d thought, which is remarkable indeed. No matter what else happens as the party heads north, no matter how many blisters she acquires or how sore her muscles are, she can eventually go back to her parents’ drawing rooms and her looming marriage knowing she’d once faced a terrifying creature.

She sighs again, happier this time, as she walks. The knowledge of her own courage is like the sunshine streaming through the leaves dappling the path in front of her, warm and heart-filling. How much more will she learn about herself on this journey north?

Plus, she did get a fighting lesson from Sage.

Images of the ranger flit through Araphi’s mind. Her knives flashing in battle against the wolves. The way she straddled Araphi protectively. The look of concentration on her face and the grace of her long limbs as she helped Nura demonstrate a fighting stance. The feel of her spine pressed against Araphi’s chest, the back of her trousers brushing Araphi’s…

She smothers the small grin that rises to her lips at the thought of being pinned under or against Sage again. Of marching up to her and asking for another lesson. Of—

She trips over an exposed root and nearly goes sprawling. She stumbles forward, ignoring the scoff from Remy behind her.

Right, yes. Stop daydreaming, Bard. Keep walking. Don’t think of the sexy ranger directly in front of you.

Desperate for distraction, Araphi pulls an apple from her pocket—one Bramble found on a gnarled tree along the path—and takes a bite to quiet her stomach. It doesn’t help.

Gods, who knew that the back of a woman would ever make Araphi’s insides twist so much? Sage’s body shifts easily with each stride, the muscles of her thighs moving just enough that Araphi can make out their contours. One of Sage’s hands rests on her knife’s hilt, and she whistles a tune under her breath. It’s “The Wheel and the Whaler,” a popular tavern song that Araphi could sing in her sleep. Hearing it, she’s suddenly eighteen again and sneaking off to the Dragon’s Bane for the first time with two of her fellow Auximia students. All of them were from wealthy families, and of course none of them were supposed to be in the Rookery, but Araphi had never heard music in a tavern before. She longed to see if it felt different than the music she heard in her parents’ drawing rooms. The other girls had come along because they were bored, and Araphi had promised to buy all the drinks.

Her companions balked, however, upon seeing the rough crowd outside the Dragon’s Bane, which was lined up around the block, loud and unruly. Light rain misted the night, and most of the lanterns on the street were out already.

“You’re going to get robbed!” her friend Celia had insisted.

“I don’t see what’s so great about drinking in this filthy hole anyways,” Robin, Celia’s girlfriend, had added. “We should go back before some brigand murders us and tosses our bodies into the river to float home.”

“You both go on, then. I’m staying.” Araphi pulled the hood of her fine cloak over her head and steeled her nerves.