Brie
The castle glows like liquid gold from the light of what must be hundreds of tallow candles. The gathered crowd shuffles to find a spot to sit or stand in the wide, toppled ballroom of sorts. I’m not sure what it used to be, but only so many rooms are still fully enclosed. The weather in Emberfyll is mild. I imagine when the forest grows back, it’ll be borderline tropical.
A feast of fish is laid out on makeshift tables or on long strips of fabric where people are seated on the floor, passing pewter plates down the line into hungry hands. Others break bread or pour tea and mead into mugs.
I watch from the front of the room where I’m seated against a backdrop of the ocean and the clear, star filled sky.
Maeve’s still asleep. She’s been sleeping all day, since the moment she arrived, but I imagine that won’t change for a while. I’m worried about her–have been checking on her all day while also juggling creating a plan of action with Logan and Seamus for when my father’s warriors arrive.
The thought of my family makes my stomach curl. Dad’s going to be so mad. Grandpa, too, is probably raging right now. I wonder if Grandma will attempt to come here, breaking the veil down herself, but part of me believes that someone must have put this idea in Maeve’s head. She’s not normally that reckless. Scheming? Yes. But not irresponsibly so.
The fact that she made it here, alive, with us in one piece is astounding. I’ve had to pinch myself repeatedly to confirm I’m actually here, and I know Logan is feeling the same way.
He’s barely said a word all day, but we’re exhausted. His expression is what’s killing me the most, however. He just looks broken. Guilty and broken.
I wonder if it’s too late to fix what’s been broken in his heart since he was just a child. I’m not sure even our mate bond can heal that, but I can try.
Seamus waves for the crowd to quiet down, his voice soft and friendly as he smiles. I worried that Seamus might take offense to being called Beta, but he’d been… relieved, I think, to be done with his duties as the de facto leader of these broken, hungry, tired people. But he’s been with them since the beginning.
I found out how he’s related to Logan. He is his cousin, the eldest and only surviving child of Logan’s eldest aunt on his mother’s side. They’re the last of their family left, the last of the pack that chose to leave. The rest of these people are refugees from other packs that no longer exist, thrown together out of survival.
I rub my temple, closing my eyes against the mental list of things to do, but open them when a very small child taps on my shoulder. She’s likely four or five years old, if that. It’s hard to tell because the children and teenagers I’ve seen are all small and skinny, having grown up without enough to eat. She hands me a small, slightly wilted flower, like it’s been smooshed in her pocket all day.
I smile at her, and she runs away, giggling, throwing herself in her mother’s arms. I meet the woman’s eyes and nod, noticing the glint of tears in her eyes. Tears of relief. Tears of someone who finally sees a future for her child, even if that future depends on the witch sleeping off a power-induced coma several stories above our heads.
If Maeve can break the veil, it would mean that once the warriors arrive, the colony could be set up, offering extra food and supplies for the people here. But then a few ships could turn back around and go to the mainland for help–more food, more supplies, a handful of healers who could come to live here and get these people back in shape.
While Seamus begins his speech, my mind reels over what the next couple of months will look like. Logan and I will need to stay here… unless I go back without him to go to Moonrise to gather healers and carpenters, pleading my case as Luna to my grandmother’s council of elders to send as much as they can to Emberfyll.
I’m not listening to the speech. I can hear my own heartbeat in my ears as Logan rises, extending his hand to me to help me up. My stomach pitches with nausea I equate to nerves at having a group of eighty people looking at me, watching every step I take as Logan moves to the center of the crowd and stops, heaving a breath.
I shaved his face for him today. It was the only moment we had alone together, and it was spent in silence, both of our minds wandering to what we discovered and what it means for us now.
But he grips my hand, looking down at me with so much love in his eyes that it untangles the knots of worry in my brain, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here, with him, fulfilling this purpose.
The Goddess chooses wisely, doesn’t She?
She knew I’d be needed here, that he’d need me.
And I’d need him.
Logan licks his lips before turning to the crowd. His mouth parts to say… something, anything, to his people, but a man in the very back of the crowd stands up, tears in his eyes as he starts to clap. Other’s stand, following his lead, and soon the entire group is rushing out of their seats and from the floor, cheering and hollering, raising pewter cups in blessings on our name.
“The prince returned! He returned as king, as prophesied!” someone shouts, which is followed by more shouting and clapping.
Logan looks entirely overwhelmed, and for once, at a loss for words. So I do what any good Luna would do and step past him, addressing the crowd. “My name is Brie. I know this is a shock, and there’s a lot of confusion about what will happen next, but I believe in the Moon Goddess. I believe that all of us are here for a reason–that every one of you were chosen from the stars by Her hand, knowing you’d be strong enough to withstand what you’ve been through. I know you look at me–at us–and see strangers. I know the news of a fleet of unfamiliar warriors from an even more unfamiliar land is daunting. But I swear to you–to each and every one of you–that my sole purpose in this life is to serve you as Luna, to care for you and your children, and rebuild the kingdom you loved enough to protect for two decades while our Alpha King found his way home.”
The crowd quiets, but a few people whistle, and a few clap and nod.
I continue. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll be here in this spot. I want anyone who wishes to talk, who has questions, to do so. Together, we will get through this.”
I turn to Seamus, who’s smiling at us both, but Logan remains behind me, his expression suddenly steely as he scans the crowd.
I wait for several seconds then step back, feeling a little on edge under the watchful gaze of everyone in the room. Logan clears his throat and starts speaking, but it sounds… strange. I know the words, but the inflection is off. His voice is low and guttural, his vowels rolling in a way I’ve heard before, but not for a long time. It strikes me then that he’s speaking in his native tongue, but I can understand him. I can comprehend the soft echoes of understanding and murmured praise coming from the crowd as well. His words are quiet and laced with what I can only describe as music. I blink, wondering if anything I’ve just said was understandable to these people. I feel my cheeks going a bright pink, but then the crowd starts clapping, and people start eating again. Logan takes my hand and leads me back to our spot.
Sitting down, I ask, “Did I just make a total fool of myself?”
“No, why?”
“Because you had to translate for me.”
“I didn’t have to. You were speaking the language, Brie. You have been since you arrived, which is why Seamus thought you were from one of the villages at first.”
“What–no, I couldn’t have been–”
“Maybe it’s our bond, I don’t know, but I’ve been wondering about it all day.” He settles beside me, laying a hand on my thigh. “Maybe you have powers after all, Brie.”
I look into his eyes, happy to see a flicker of contentment there before he dips his head, scanning the plate of fried fish in front of us.
* * *
I glide on soft feet into the room where I left Maeve several hours ago. The moon is high in the sky, sending silver beams through the windows that cast shadows over her face as she sleeps soundly, curled in the furs.
I sink down beside her, placing my hand over her forehead, and exhale deeply in relief to feel she’s no longer freezing cold, but she flinches under my touch. Her eyelashes flutter as she tries to open her eyes.
“Go back to sleep,” I whisper, but she groans, rolling onto her back and untangling her arms from the thick furs to rub her eyes.
“How long have I been out?”
“All day. I think it’s nearly morning, actually.”
She tries to sit up but thinks better of it, grimacing like the smallest movement hurts. “Are we in Emberfyll?”
“We are.”
“Logan met someone in the woods, but I couldn’t understand a word he was saying.”
I roll my lower lip between my teeth. How do I explain that I suddenly have the ability to speak their language? I do my best, and after recounting the massive feast and my speech, Maeve just rolls her eyes, chuckling as she says, “You don’t remember, do you?”
“Remember what?”
“That summer you spent in Silverhide. You were six, I think. It was a year after Logan came to live with Ryan and Aviva, and we went to visit. You ended up staying for a few weeks. Logan was learning how to read and write in our language, but you picked up his native tongue. You came home talking in that language.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “I don’t remember that at all! I feel like I would have remembered spending an entire summer with my own mate, don’t you think?”
She shrugs. “The Goddess works in mysterious ways.”
“How–how would you have remembered that, anyway? You were like, three years old!”
“I’m a witch, Brie. I remember everything.” She smiles sleepily, closing her eyes again, but then frowns like some memory is flickering behind her eyelids.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, smoothing her hair away from her face.
“Do you know anyone in the Ghost army that has tattoos of the constellations on their hands?”
What an odd question. “Uh, no, I don’t believe so.”
“Neither do I,” she whispers.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m tired.”
“I know.” I run my fingers through her silky, dark hair. “Thank you for doing this for us, Maeve.”
“It’s what sisters do,” she replies, and my heart aches as she tries to stretch out but winces in pain. “I’ll try to break the veil tomorrow.”
“We’re not going to rush it, okay? Just rest. We’re fine.”
“I have to tell you something,” she says, blinking blearily up at me.
“What?”
“I should have told you before, but I didn’t. I was scared you’d be mad, that it would make things worse when Logan left, harder to say goodbye, but… you’re pregnant, Brie.”
I stare down at her as she closes her eyes, her words slightly slurred.
“Are you sure?” I ask, wondering how she knows, but… my sister's a witch. She just knows these things, doesn’t she?
“Blake confirmed it,” she whispers, and then sighs, falling asleep as I run my fingers through her hair again, over and over, while my mind reels.
Maybe the timing isn’t great, but… I know someone who will be desperately happy to know we have a baby on the way.
I rise, leaving my sister to sleep, and go looking for my mate.
We were given a small room on the side of the castle that’s somehow still standing. He’s shirtless, as he looks out the window at the night sky. He turns to look at me, and I have a sudden vision of that time on the ferry, just hours after we rejected each other. When I’d sat back down, not realizing he’d been following me around all morning, and the look he’d given me… it’d been warm, concerned, maybe even a little curious, but I hadn’t seen it like that back then.
I close the door behind me with effort since its hinges are bent, but I keep my eyes on him. Words fail me for some reason. It’s been a long day. All I want to do right now is lie down with him and close my eyes.
The rest can wait until tomorrow. Maybe even the next day or the day after that.