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“Oh, yes. More than two” was all the Bearkin said, as they kept polishing.

“Hmm.” Back to the letter I went.

Draven wished to be the first to go; I would stay with the children. And then, the unexpected occurred. Along the southern border of Eskira—that was the name of the continent that the kingdom of Pendrath was on—there came word of a disturbance. Something had appeared along the southern border where there was once nothing. A mist stretching as far as the eye could see, reaching high to the heavens and down into the sea below.

“The Veil,” I murmured.

Medra, it is weeks since the mist has appeared and the disturbance has now been called the greatest threat to Aercanum the world has ever seen. Pendrath is at war, not with our neighboring kingdoms but in support of them. Lyonesse is besieged. Across the Kasta Ocean, the Siabra lands do not fare better. The mist has formed a great wall along the southern edge of our world. Nothing may get past it. And yet things may get in.

“Things?” I burst out. “What things? Hawl, what things does she mean?”

The Bearkin looked up. “You’re almost finished reading the letter. Finish the letter, little cub.”

“Fine,” I muttered for what felt like the hundredth time.

“I will tell you what you need to know, have no fear of that,” they assured me.

I was on the last page, I suddenly realized.

Lancelet and Hawl will tell you more if they reach you—no, when they reach you, for I believe that they will. There are some who do not agree. Some believe that when Lancelet and Hawl step through the portal we have built, they will pass not only through space but through time. Some scholars have warned us that they may wind up in a world that is not yours at all—or, worse, in a place where time runs differently. Where a minute there may be a year here in Aercanum, in which case, they will be lost. Possibly forever. I simply cannot believe this: I do not know why. There is no logic or rationality to my belief. But I feel in my heart that you will hold this letter one day soon and read my words. I wish I could hold you as you read, dear Medra. I wish your uncle could wrap you in his arms like he did when you were small and rock you back and forth.

Shit. I was crying again. I swiped at my face.

I refuse to believe we will not meet again in this lifetime. There are so many things we have yet to learn, so many new places to explore. For now, your uncle and I must face this threat. We must stay and protect our world—and our children. But we will never give up believing we will see you again. We will never give up hope. We love you. We hope you love us. Dear little Medra, what an incredible woman we know you have become. Be brave and stay strong.

All our love, Morgan and Draven

She’d said my uncle had wanted to add something. I flipped the page over and saw a few more lines written in a messy, masculine scrawl.

Medra, my beloved girl, will you really read these words? Are you happy? Or are you in torment? Your aunt believes your mother. She thinks this Blake may be your salvation as she was mine. I pray that it is so. But if it is not, stab him in the heart, little Medra, stab him in the heart, and twist the knife in hard. Hawl will be there to help clean up the blood. Never let anyone break your spirit or take from you what you do not wish to give. No man could ever deserve you. But should you truly love this man Blake, despite the loathsome affinity for blood that he possesses, I have no doubt he will be the most deserving man in the world. If not, there is the stew option.

All my love, Uncle Draven

“The stew.” I shook my head. “Hawl, we are not making stew. Ever.”

Hawl looked up. “No?’

“No!” I rolled my eyes. “Do I need to say the words aloud?”

“And what words may those be, little cub?” said the Bearkin, looking intentionally obtuse.

“I love Blake, Hawl.” I took a deep breath. “Believe me, I didn’t want to at first. I had no intention of doing so. But it happened. And he loves me. I know you and my uncle will find this hard to believe, but he treats me well. He’s risked his life for me time and again.”

“Yet he burned the city that lies just across that bridge,” Hawl said, their voice a soft rumble.

“He did,” I admitted. “He will spend the rest of his life atoning for that night.”

“You would stand by him,” Hawl said, without accusation.

“Yes, I will stand by him. He’s broken, but so am I. Try to understand that. We’ve both been through a lot. Neither of us are perfect. But we’re trying.”

The bear nodded slowly. “I understand.”

I took a deep breath. “And if you are really here to help me and protect me, then you will stand by Blake, too. Can you do that?”

“If I must,” the Bearkin growled.

I smiled. “You must. You really must not make Blake into stew. Now, please tell me all the things my aunt’s letter left out. Starting with how you got here in the first place and where Lancelet is.”