Page 7 of An Archer's Redemption

Still, my heart ached for Kelså to know him. For her to know me, she had to know him, as well. Ayden was part of me now, the better part of all that I was. So I risked her ire and walked him up the Path.

Ayden would never remember the place.

He would lose all recollection of my mother.

There was no reprieve from that sentence.

While I understood and agreed it was for the best, a larger part of me was saddened at what he would lose when we returned to the mainland. Seeing him interact with my mother, seeing her wrap her arms around him so freely, lightened my heart in ways I never hoped possible.

She was my home.

Now he was, too.

The smell of bacon greeted us before we reached the entrance to the kitchen.

My stomach growled.

Piles of food awaited us: eggs, bacon, steaming scones, and a small bowl of assorted fruit.

“Did you make enough for the village? Spirits,” Ayden said. I ignored him and grabbed a plate.

Kelså beamed. “I can’t havemy babygoing off hungry, can I?”

Ayden laughed and mussed my already ruffled hair.

I ignored them both and filled my plate while Kelså poured piping tea into mugs and set the kettle back on the stove. Longmoments passed in silence as we enjoyed our meal, but Kelså couldn’t keep her curiosity at bay for long.

“Start from the beginning. You said Grove’s Pass was destroyed by the time you returned, but I could tell you saw more than you were willing to discuss.”

I took a sip of tea, set my fork against the edge of my plate, then stared into the grain of the table’s wood for a long moment. Those were memories I had hoped to never relive, but Kelså needed to know.

The Keeper needed to know what transpired.

“I grew up in the guild in Saltstone, but Grove’s Pass had become my home. There were over a thousand rangers who lived, worked, or passed through the town. Most of us lived in the headquarters, a massive complex larger than many small villages. The place always amazed me. Mages helped build much of it, you know?” My voice descended to a whisper. “They were my brothers and sisters, my family. And the people of Grove’s Pass . . .”

Kelså set her own fork down and cradled her mug in both hands as she listened, brows creased in worry.

“The innkeeper was like another uncle, one of a hundred I see in my mind. When I first joined the Rangers, I was young and stupid, getting into every kind of trouble you could imagine. I spent more time at his bar than I did in the HQ. He helped a lost boy find some measure of peace and focus. I wouldn’t be alive if he hadn’t taken me under his wing.

“I could say the same about a dozen of the Rangers.” My voice broke. “They werealldead when I got there. And the people . . . Who kills children in their mothers’ arms? Babies and . . . Who does that?”

Kelså reached across the table and placed her hand on mine. “Show me.”

My heart seized at the thought of bringing such memories to life, but I nodded, closed my eyes, and called forth my Light. Ayden’s calloused hand gripped mine as images flickered.

A reflection of Grove’s Pass solidified above the table.

I pick my way through the town’s snow-covered streets. Hands reach up through the snow. Broken bodies, too many to count, lay beneath.

Burned-out buildings, charred black, are all that remain of the Rangers’ home.

The snow blows back.

I see one cadet, then another.

Men and women—more boys and girls than men and women—stare up through unseeing eyes.

Wetness tickles my cheek, but I press onward, stepping over one body, then another, until reaching the burned-out tavern.

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