Page 74 of Homeward for a Spell

—S

Araphi can’t believe she’s overslept when she has so much to do. There’s packing, and saying goodbye to the villagers, and somehow thanking Wren for her hospitality—though truly, Araphi has no idea what gift could possibly do that—and playing one last evening in the mess hall.

And it’s her last night with Sage in this perfect space they’ve created together…

She clutches Sage’s note to her chest and falls back against the headboard.

Gods. How is she supposed to say goodbye? Or pretend she wants anything to do with her old life and her family and all that Ashaway has waiting for her?

You don’t have a choice, whispers a voice in her head, and it isn’t even her patron.

But is that still true? She could stay with Sage. They could have a life together. A vision passes through her mind of the two of them together, walking toward adventure along a faraway road, sword at Sage’s hip, lute on Araphi’s back, laughing at some private joke…

It’s all she wants at this moment.

If she chooses that path, though, she walks away from her family responsibilities, and from the part of herself that once belonged in Ashaway. Which she wouldn’t mind, but she loves her mother, her fathers, and her siblings. Does she really want to say goodbye to them forever? Yael never intends to see their parents again, it’s true, but Menorath and Baremon were always perfectly awful to them. They never once saw who Yael was, nor loved them for it; valued only what they could provide for the family as its heir. Araphi’s parents love her, for all of their flaws.

Araphi sighs, reading Sage’s note once more.

Though she doesn’t want to, she has to decide: either a life with Sage, or a return to life with her family. No matter what she chooses, she has to give up some part of herself. She doesn’t want to say goodbye to her family forever—not the better parts of it, the people she can’t help but love—or to Sage. She wants to do the right thing and the thing that makes her happy.

Gods, why must this all be so complicated?

Adventure was always temporary, wasn’t it? She was going to get Phi Runesong out of her system and then return home. Sage hadn’t even been part of those plans when she’d first made them.

Araphi’s had her fun. She’s been gone for months, and her family is probably terribly worried about her. But despite all that, she still doesn’t have Phi Runesong—brave adventurer, bold singer, lover of a fearless ranger and surprisingly gentle companion—out of her system.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever manage to do that,” she whispers, finally admitting it to herself after all the long months since she’d walked into Sage’s adventure party audition at the Pearl and the Grit.

What is she supposed to do with that knowledge, though? Is there truly no way her two lives can coexist? Is there no way Araphi Clauneck and Phi Runesong can be the same person?

She scoffs at the thought.

What’s she supposed to do, preside over a formal dinner, then sneak out to a tavern where Sage will be waiting, and then steal back to Denby’s bed?

The thought is too awful to stomach.

Araphi blows out a breath. Trying to wrap her mind around her two selves, what she wants, what she doesn’t want, and how she can possibly go through life without Sage.

Tears rise in her eyes and she brushes them away. Easier to push all those questions and worries aside, at least for one more day.

For one more perfect day in Arkney, she can still be Phi Runesong. She can still love Sage. She can still have a bit of freedom and adventure. She can still not face everything that waits for her if she returns to her life as Araphi Clauneck.

Letting out a shaky breath, she washes, dresses, and then grabs her new lute. It isn’t as ornate as her mother’s lute, but it’s sturdy and well-made and she loves it because it’s her own. She plays the first few notes of the ballad she’s been writing in secret since they arrived in Arkney. It’s for Sage, of course, though she’s nowhere near done with it.

She pulls the piece of paper she’s been writing it on from the drawer in her bedside table, and begins to sing “The Ranger and the Bard”:

The ranger had seen many things

Wandered the farthest shore,

But never did she expect

To succumb to the allure

Of a bard from the finest family,

A girl good with a song,