Page 3 of The Ashborn

“No.” Elowen waved her hands. “Well…” She paused. “Perhaps the books… Not those. Leave them alone for now. Oh, goodness!” A kettle whistled loudly, drawing Elowen away.

Kienna pushed her thumb against her index finger and picked at the skin. How odd.

Her mind trailed back to the painting in the room, the image so vivid that it etched itself permanently in her mind, even as she pushed it away. It was hard to tell if that was her in that picture or her mother. All she could do was hope that future was no longer in the cards for her.

She was going to be a woodcarver.

—Moira—

Moira followed Tislin a few paces outside before stopping him again. His speckled smoke and amber eyes softened on her. “Are you alright, Sunbeam?”

“I had another vision. About the woodcarver.” She’d seen it as they arrived at Dove Port. The child in her womb wanted her to, though she couldn’t explain exactly what it meant or why she’d had it. She’d led Moira directly to the old man and warned her to beware of the blade that shaped the block. These visions disoriented Moira in her reality.

Tislin’s expression clouded. She couldn’t tell if it was from discomfort or from fear that she might be seeing too much. He caressed her cheek, and Moira’s breath faltered. Shivers fluttered under her skin as she leaned into the touch. “It’s okay, Sunbeam. Would you like to tell me?”

“Is he dangerous?”

“He is old.” Tislin nearly laughed. When he softened back, his hand floated above her ear, removing his touch and crumbling her heart. “You worry for your friend, and the worry feeds your child. Listen to your fears, but don’t misinterpret them. This is Kienna’s path.”

Moira held her breath. She had inklings that Kienna might be more than they realized. Her visions told her that much. Still, Tislin was not forthcoming with the information, and it drove Moira mad. Her hand fluttered to her abdomen, caressing it lovingly. Her eyes fixed on Tislin’s, but she forced a smile. He was, in fact, helping them more than she could have dared to ask for. She would give him time to tell her.

She hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

Chapter 2

—Kienna—

Kienna stared out the window of the tiny cottage, twirling her charm bracelet around her wrist. The emerald and lavender threads forged their way to a crystal. It was odd not feeling magic at her disposal, though it was better than being a pawn for the King of River Storm. Tislin returned quickly, bearing great news, though his sudden presence startled Kienna from her trance.

The woodcarver’s current apprentice recently received an offer to become a sailor of the high seas, dutiful work for someone in Dove Port. It was perfectly timed, too, since he needed help with the tremendous number of requests piling up.

“You can start tomorrow,” Tislin told her.

Elowen shushed him. “You’re disturbing the creatures in my floorboards.” He hadn’t been talking loudly, but Elowen only shrugged and said, “They get restless when they hear too much excitement.” She added a wink, nudging a small pouch of seeds off the counter and into a drawer that wiggled as if something inside had been startled.

Kienna and Moira widened their eyes, glancing around the walls and creaky planks beneath their feet. They couldn’t see anything, but Ruva confirmed she could smell them.

They’re harmless little beasts from the Malintale. She was beside herself to have friends nearby.

“Your wolf friend is welcome, too,” Elowen said with another wink to Kienna.

Kienna’s shoulders perked. “How did you know about her?”

“You’re not the only one with a Soulbond. I happen to have seven,” she chuckled.

Was that what it was between her and Ruva? Connak called it a guide when he once wore a wolf over his head. She hoped she would never have to resort to doing the same with Ruva.

Before her confirmation, Kienna assumed Elowen’s cluttered house harbored a few breadcrumbs scattered about. The pattering of feet in the lone night of their stay made more sense. Squeaks chittered beneath them, and the shuffling of tiny paws brushed against worn wood, a sudden itch crawling up her skin. Kienna resolved to put it out of her mind quickly, as long as Ruva was welcome to join her for rest.

If something jumps out at me, she pleaded, I permit you to eat it.

No promises! Ruva flung her large body through the open window, wiggling until her hips managed to squeeze through. She plopped keenly next to Kienna by the fire. The flames danced along Ruva’s black coat, speckled with gray as if an artist splattered paint across her skin. Her silver eyes gleamed.

At night, the house glowed with flickering warmth. Candlelight danced along the walls and beams, casting shadows in odd, jittering shapes. Stew, rich with root vegetables, herbs, and something sweeter, bubbled on the hearth. Elowen’s house, cluttered and uncanny by day, transformed into a place where stories could unfold.

“Oh, heavens,” Elowen mumbled as she glanced back at Moira and Kienna. She pulled on the strands of her silver hair with spindly fingers, bright brown eyes the color of burnt butter drooping as she wiped at a tear.

Moira read a book she found in Elowen’s personal library, a story she refused to share, no matter how many times Kienna probed her. “Seriously, Moira. What’s it about? Romance? Revolution?”