Page 138 of Cycle Keeper’s Shadow

The relief of that thought faded as quickly as it came. Silas was still out there. Pursuing her. She wasn’t foolish enough to think he’d given up simply because he’d fled.

She pushed it aside and rose, shivering in the cool air. At least here, Frosthold hadn’t been forgotten. Her eyes drifted back toward Orzen, still asleep, his face soft and unguarded in a way she’d rarely seen. A small flutter tugged at her chest. She was surprised at it, then annoyed, then guilty.

She needed to do something with her hands, something useful. She knelt beside the fire, hooves sinking into the moss, and struck sparkstones against the kindling. Dry grass crackled; a tiny spark caught. Warm air flushed against her skin and she settled in the moss to watch the flames.

A high, startled squeal cracked across the camp. A heartbeat later, Tommick collided with her, arms flung firmly around her neck. Breath left her in a rush and she swayed, blinking at the sudden weight. A fierce love filled her as he squeezed tighter.

“You’re awake!” he blurted, voice wobbling somewhere between joy and panic. Branwynn stood behind him, one hand pressed to her chest. Tommick pulled back far enough to look at her face, his own scrunched up with the effort to stay stoic.

Then came a flood of words.

“You were asleep forever. Forever!” Tommick exclaimed. “We thought, well, I didn’t think you were gonna die, but Orzen was worried, and he carried you so far, and then that raven came and sat on you like it was guarding you, and he led us here! And Momma made me take a bath because I smelled real bad, but that wasn’t even my fault—”

“Tommick,” Wren breathed, eyes filling with tears.

His face pinched in worry, and he grabbed her hand in both of his. “Are you sad Silas left?” he whispered. “You shouldn’t be sad. He was awful. And he hurt you.”

“No, I’m not sad about him.” Wren shook her head. “I’m happy. Really happy because you’re safe.”

“Of course I am.” He almost sounded surprised at her worry. His chin lifted with the determined, shaky bravery only a child could manage.

“Orzen’s training me to be a knight. And knights keep people safe,” Tommick said firmly. “Right, Orzen?”

Boot scuffed behind her so quietly she’d barely heard him coming. Orzen blinked drowsily at them both. His dark hair was sleep-tousled, odd bits sticking up in a way that was impossibly endearing. He dropped in the moss beside her with a quiet grunt.

“You learn fast,” he said, giving a solemn nod toward Tommick, his expression a mixture of quiet pride and affection.

Tommick puffed up, glowing at the praise.

“I’m making tea,” he declared suddenly. He strode to his mother, whispering, “Do we have tea? And also…uh…how do I make tea?”

Branwynn chuckled and wrapped an arm around him. “Come along, Little Knight. You’ve got quite the quest ahead of you.” They drifted away, leaving Wren and Orzen beside the fire.

“Morning,” he mumbled. “Gods, I miss coffee.”

Across the fire, Jessa yawned and rose from her bedroll.

“Coffee? What I want is some real food. If I have to eat another mushr—” Her gaze fell on Wren and she froze mid-stretch. “You’re awake!” Jessa’s face split into a grin as bright as dawn and she tackled Wren. “For the record, I was never worried.”

“She was,” Garin grunted nearby. “Terribly.” He laid a warm hand on Wren’s shoulder. “Glad you’re up and moving again.”

“We’re relieved you’re still with us.” Calen said after a moment, settling beside Jessa.

Tommick appeared at Wren’s knee, presenting a little tin mug of steaming tea with both hands. Wren took it gently. His solemn fist-to-heart nearly broke her. The group shifted into quiet conversation, sharing bits of bread and berries they’d found foraging within Stillglen.

“I hate to ruin the morning,” Garin said after a moment, blowing on his own tin of tea, “but just ‘cuz Silas is gone doesn’t mean he’s not a problem.”

“Which is why we need to get to the Glade as soon as possible.”

Wren set her empty mug down and tried to push herself to her hooves. A wave of dizziness overtook her and the moss tilted beneath her. Her vision spun until she gave up and sat down again.

“Absolutely not,” Jessa said, steadying her. “You’re not marching anywhere today.”

“We can spare a day,” Orzen added firmly.

Wren opened her mouth to protest, but the spinning in her head made her close it again. “Fine, I suppose one day won’t hurt us.” She folded her hands in her lap, trying to ignore the guilt rising within her knowing she’d cost them another day.

Orzen had slept, but he still had dark circles beneath his eyes.