He stared into the twilit distance, where the western half of the forest waited, seeming to watch him with curiosity. When he took his first cautious step into the west, he was thinking of Maisie. He was thinking of the blight and the riddle and the veins of gold beneath Sidra’s skin.
Part Three
A Song for Kindling
Chapter 25
Sidra was leaving Rodina’s croft, her healing basket in the crook of her arm, when she saw five guards ride past, galloping along the road. She shielded her eyes from the sun as she watched them pass, their horses kicking up a cloud of copper dust. They could have sprouted wings they were making such haste, pressing west. Sidra felt a twinge of concern, but she tried to shake it away as she walked to the gate.
Blair, her appointed guard, was waiting for her with their two horses. He was one of the older members of the East Guard, a man who had never married or had children and had devoted his entire life to serving the east. He was quiet but sharply attentive, silver bearded and dark eyed, with long brown hair gradually graying at the temples. He was also built like an ox and could move without making a sound.
Yvaine herself had chosen Blair to ride with Sidra when she visited her patients. At first Sidra hadn’t liked the thought of having a guard trail her everywhere. But then she realized how difficult it was becoming for her to mount a horse, to pull herself up into the saddle and then dismount to the ground below, multiple times a day. Her foot ached constantly, but she couldn’t dull the pain with herbs, having sworn them all off ever since she realized she was pregnant.
Blair had swiftly proven himself useful. He was strong and tall enough to easily lift her up to the saddle and to help her down, so her foot barely throbbed when it touched ground. Sometimes Sidra wondered if he suspected she was blighted, if he could tell she was favoring her foot even though she hid it as best as she could with the shield of her skirts and the brace beneath her boot. But if he did, he never let on, and that made her trust him.
She looked at him now as he also took note of the guards flying by.
“What do you think?” she asked, slipping through the gate.
Blair frowned. “I’m not sure, Lady.”
Sidra inhaled a deep breath, wondering how much more trouble she could manage. It could be something as simple as a flock of sheep wandering too far, or a bull getting loose from its pen, or even the hills shifting and causing a bit of mischief for a crofter. There was no telling these days.
Blair had gently taken hold of her waist and was about to lift her to the saddle when they both heard the rhythmic pounding of hooves. A rider was approaching. Sidra stepped around the horses, Blair in her shadow. They both watched as Yvaine drew near, then reined her stallion to a sliding halt in grass.
The moment Sidra met the captain’s eyes, she knew it was bad. She braced herself, wondering who was sick, who had died, which part of the isle had just been blighted.
“Come, Lady,” Yvaine said, dismounting in a rush. “To the storehouse, out of the wind.”
Sidra followed, Blair remaining with the horses. Rodina’s storehouse was at the back of the property, within view of the orchard, which had now fallen entirely to the blight. The building was round and small with a thatched, mossy roof. Within, it was cool and dim, the dusty shelves lined with preserves set aside for winter.
Stifling a sneeze, Sidra leaned against the wall to take the weight off her foot. “Tell me, Yvaine. What’s happened?”
Yvaine was silent. It was that silence that turned Sidra’s dread into ice, and she shivered despite the heat of the day and the sweat dampening her dress.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this to you, Sidra,” she said, dragging her hands over her face, breathing into her palms. It was the first outward sign of distress Sidra had ever seen from Yvaine, but it was strangely fortifying to know that the captain felt comfortable enough with her to completely let down her guard. Even if it was just for a moment.
Sidra nearly cast her own mask aside. She almost told Yvaine then and there that she was sick with the blight and didn’t know how much time she had, and that she could no longer treat herself because, yes, she was also pregnant with Torin’s child, who was still unaccounted for, even though they both believed he was walking the spirits’ realm. But no, it was all too much, these recent days that could have inspired a horrifying ballad. Instead, Sidra bit the inside of her cheek and waited.
Yvaine lowered her hands. The cords of her throat shifted as she met Sidra’s stare.
The captain had been right. There truly was no way Sidra could have prepared for the news she brought. Yvaine’s eyes shone with shock when she finally spoke.