Misty
Sometime in the dead of night, Cole took Addy from my arms and laid him in his crib. I was next and woke up tucked against Cole’s chest as the first rays of warm, morning sunlight drifted through the window.
Addy wakes up happy every morning lately and is beside himself with glee when he sees me looking down into his crib, extending my arms for him. Cole thinks Addy looks like me, but I beg to differ. I think his hair will be blond, of course, given that both his parents have fair, light hair but his eyes are starting to change from that soft blue to a paler, icier gray, like Cole’s.
I run my fingers through his hair while he nurses. Cole continues to sleep, and I let him. I’m dreading starting our day, honestly, and stepping out into the village to see the aftermath of Kyra’s destruction and wait for news about Maeve and Logan.
I feel awful for Kenna. My heart is shattered for her and Evander. I hold Addy close as I walk to the pack house on instinct like I have every morning since we arrived, almost like I’ve forgotten it’s gone, nothing but ash and embers that haven’t quite gone out yet. I’m dressed in jeans and a white nursing tank-top under one of Cole’s button down flannels, and my hair in a messy bun that slumps sideways on the top of my head. I pass villagers going about their harvest chores like nothing happened.
Meat is being loaded into the smoking sheds. Carts pulled by wolves are being loaded with wheat to process. The wool shed, which used to be piled high with fluffy, flawless tufts of white, gray, and black is now empty, and as I pass Freya and Andrew’s house, I imagine she’s been spinning wool every day for weeks now, preparing to trade it at the upcoming harvest festival.
I take my easy life in Shadowcrest for granted sometimes, I realize. Being here, watching a pack being built from the ground up, makes me acutely aware of how easy I have it. I watch a trio of women carrying babies in slings while their toddlers race ahead of them. They’re carrying bags of freshly ground flour and baskets full of vegetables and eggs–their shopping trip for the day, not the week, not the month.
Back home, I simply place an order on my phone and drive my lazy ass to the grocery store where the groceries are loaded in the back of my shiny SUV. Here, I’m hoping Ryan has something to eat at his house this morning, at least. A muffin would be nice.
I pass the sheep barn, however, and pause.
I’ve been neglecting The Book of Whispers. I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. I know it’s just a copy, but still, the knowledge of Richard wielding it, bending its magic to his whim and sacrificing his own life force to cast his spells, makes my stomach turn.
Maybe we don’t need to know its secrets. Maybe they’re better left alone, destroyed.
But I’m still a historian, and I’m supposed to be writing our history. I should know what happened before, shouldn’t I?
So history doesn’t continue repeating itself?
I whirl to the sound of boots crunching over gravel, and I’m shocked to see a man walking in my direction, his hands tucked in the pockets of a very nice, very modern jacket from one of the specialty athletic stores in Crescent Falls that’s all the rage right now.
“What are you doing here?” I ask stupidly.
Sydney rolls his lower lip between his teeth as he approaches, squinting against the sun. “I have a small team of warriors in the Deadlands aiding Ryan’s forces in the search for Maeve.”
I knew that. I’m not sure why I even asked, but still. “Is Sarah here?”
“She is. She’s with Aviva right now.” He sighs, looking down at his clean boots before meeting my eyes again. “I didn’t want her to come, but Ryatt insisted on it, seeing as Ryan refuses to allow her to travel to Moonrise.”
“Did Ryan tell you what happened to her?”
“Yeah, he did.” He swallows hard but smiles when Addy sneezes loudly before settling back against my chest. “He’s getting big.”
“We’ve only been gone a few weeks,” I say, smiling despite the heaviness in my chest. I can see the stress and worry behind my brother’s eyes, however. Sarah’s due soon. They have a full, busy life in Crescent Falls. A full house, a full to-do list….
“The boys are with Mom, of course,” he adds, running his fingers through his hair. “Look, I was on my way to your cabin. I need to talk to you about the forge.”
“I figured.”
“What did you feel in your powers while you were there? Because being around Aviva now is… something’s changed.”
“She has powers now, Sydney.”
He nods, gritting his teeth. “The forge in Moonrise is… tucked where no one, even the mystics, can access it. The other forges, from what we know, are still hidden and unrecoverable, and it needs to stay that way.”
“I agree–”
“You destroyed a portal to another realm,” he says, cutting me off. “Can you destroy the forge?”
“No,” I answer, and it comes from a place deep within my soul. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it's… It doesn’t need to be destroyed. Its job is already done.”
“I don’t understand–”
“The objects. Ryatt’s sword, your blade, Aunt Ella’s mask and the like… each forge, according to legend, was built to craft specific items. This forge… I assume it made the bow, and Aviva wields it. But she isn’t like us–or, at least, she wasn’t like us, until yesterday. The forge’s job is done. Its power… pretty much dried up after she came out of it, and Ryatt was able to bring her back here from within its resting place. It’s just… water now. Like the falls in Maatua.”
“You think there’s a connection between the falls and the forges?”
“Yes.” I have nothing else to add at this point. There’s so much we don’t know, and again, I’m struggling to decide whether we need to know.
He steps closer, dropping his voice as he asks, “And the book… was that created using a forge?”
Again, that little voice within me, that voice that controls my powers, gives me the answer. “The book was used to create the forges. It’s gone now. If the forges are dormant, they can’t be woken up. If they’re destroyed, they're gone for good.”
“So… the magic remains exclusive to our family?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“Good,” he says simply, but his eyes tell another story. He’s stressed. I’m sure I missed a heated conversation between him and our dad, and possibly our uncle.
He starts to turn away but stops. “She’s been asking for you. Are you busy?”
“I was looking for breakfast,” I admit.
“There’s some up at Ryan’s place. Is Cole around?”
“He’s asleep.” I should probably tell him about Cole’s saga with Kyra but decide that’s Cole’s business. Here I was thinking that I was the only one broken by our experience last year, but my mate is… struggling. I heave a breath and follow Sydney through the village, leaving footprints in the ash.
The pack house is already being cleaned up, what wood and stone can be salvaged stacked and the ground raked of simmering embers.
But there’s a gap in the tidy village now. The valley spreads out behind the houses and shops, the furthest peaks dusted with fresh snow–a warning of winter and the end of the ever important harvest.
“Can I hold him?” Sydney asks as Addy gnaws on the buttons on my flannel. I nod, passing the baby to my brother, who smiles and expertly settles Addy on his shoulder. “I’ve missed this, having a little baby around.”
“Does Sarah know what she’s having yet?”
“We wanted it to be a surprise, but Cosette is sure it’s a girl this time. I think she hopes so, based on the grief she gets from Blake and Liam. Mom, too, would like another girl to add to her collection,” he smiles wistfully. “I’m just hoping for a healthy mom when this is over.”
“Liam came pretty easy,” I edge with a shrug.
“The weeks after that were hard on Sarah. She did it alone the first time… I think she struggles with memories of that, and I struggle with guilt that I wasn’t there for her when Blake was born.”
“How long until she’s due?”
“A month, maybe. She could go anytime, which is why I didn’t want her to come, but she convinced me. She’s worried about Aviva.”
We reach the house and climb the steps to the porch. The windows are open, letting in warm late summer air and releasing the scent of coffee and what I hope are pancakes.
I have memories of visiting Ryan’s bachelor house in the old Silverhide territory. He was always throwing parties and always cooking breakfast for the friends who didn’t make it home the night before.
My heart warms as I step inside and find him standing over the cast-iron, wood fired stove. He flips pancakes and sausages while talking in low tones to… Evander, who’s leaning on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, a mug of coffee steaming in front of him.
I didn’t expect him to be here. Kenna came and took her kids back to Moonrise, and he should be out looking for Maeve with his Ghost’s, shouldn’t he?
His green eyes meet mine, nodding a hello, but my mouth is dry as Ryan thrusts a plate of breakfast in my hands and snaps his fingers in a motion for me to sit and eat.
I glance around the room looking for any sign of Sarah and Aviva.
“They’re in the bedroom,” Ryan says, pouring more batter in the pan.
I take a single bite of my food before walking to the bedroom and easing through the door, careful not to make a bunch of noise in the event Aviva’s asleep, but I find her sitting up in bed with Lexa sprawled between her legs and Sarah perched on the edge of the mattress, looking round and radiant as she smiles up at me.
“Misty!” She struggles to get up in an attempt to hug me, but I meet her halfway. “Goddess, I’ve heard you’ve been going through it during your vacation.”
“I wouldn’t consider this much of a vacation,” I murmur, but my eyes slide to Aviva. “Are you okay?”
“I’m all right,” she says weakly, giving me a sad kind of smile. “I’m feeling rough.”
“It’s your powers. Your body’s getting used to them being a part of you,” Sarah says quickly, pursing her lips. “The rest of us were born with ours and had our whole lives to adjust.”
It makes sense. Aviva’s pale and struggles to lift her coffee mug to her lips, and dark circles like I’ve never seen before line her eyes.
“Are you in pain?” I ask.
“No, not really. I’m sore for some reason, but it’ll pass.” Her voice breaks as she looks down at Lexa, who’s trying to grab sunbeams coming through the curtain with her chubby hands.
Sarah clears her throat, giving us both a weak smile. “Sydney isn’t going to be happy about this, but I was just telling Aviva that we’re going to scry to find Maeve. I think it’s our best option. Maeve’s powers are strong, which means I’ll be able to find her, or get close to it. But it’s going to take a lot of energy I don't have to spare.” Her eyes scan Aviva’s face. “But she does.”
“She… what?” I rest my shoulder against the wall, crossing my arms.
Aviva toys with Lexa’s feet, refusing to look at either of us.
“Aviva can scry. It’s one of her powers–her dominant one, so far. We’ve decided to try–together. Once everyone has eaten breakfast.” She lays a supportive hand on Aviva’s thigh. “You need to eat, too.”
I stand up a little straighter. Scrying is a very rare power. In fact, only mystics tend to have that ability, and it’s rare in their ranks. Sarah’s the only person I know who can do it–reading the heavens, finding those vibrations between the realm of living and the dead–and translating it to pinpoint whatever she’s looking for, whether it be her car keys–or a person.
“Do you want to do it?” I ask Aviva, noticing her hesitation.
She shrugs, taking a deep breath. “I don’t really have a choice, do I? We need to find them.”