Page 101 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
His vow had been given. The Seer’s fate was sealed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Harrow tugged on Fiona’s reins to slow her down—not that she needed to. Fiona’s default pace was stationary. Getting her moving in the first place was by far the more difficult task.
As predicted, with the slightest tug, Fiona came to a grateful halt, and Harrow hopped down from the caravan’s seat to pat her horse on the neck. As she went about taking off Fiona’s harness and tethering her to a tree by the stream, she watched the moon rise.
Full tonight.
She’d traveled an entire day out of Allegra yet was still in the depths of the Ethereal Forest—the vast old-growth woods covering most of the Central Territory. It was later than advisable for setting up camp, but they had a lot of ground to cover, and Fiona wasn’t exactly the world’s fastest driving horse. Nor was Harrow the world’s most skilled driver.
All her life, she’d had Salizar’s laborers helping her out with the horse-care aspect of caravan living. Now, she was all by her lonesome and figuring it out herself. She gave thanks hourly that Fiona was so easygoing—a feistier horse would have long since kicked her in the head for her clumsiness.
She was alone by choice, however, so she refused to utter a word of complaint. After Darya had released her from their conversation, she’d dived right back into the scrying bowl, coming back to the world an hour later with a burning need to take her horse and caravan and head south immediately.
So she had.
The Water had been very clear, and though she didn’t understand it in the least, she’d learned her lesson well. From now on, no matter how confusing or nonsensical it seemed, she listened to the Water.
So Harrow had made a quick trip to the tavern for her bags, fetched Fiona from the stables, and rolled out of town amid hearty protests from both Salizar and Malaikah. So hearty, in fact, that she still didn’t understand how she’d managed to shake Malaikah. She’d been certain Mal wouldn’t give up and was still expecting to find her hiding beneath the bed or in the wardrobe.
With Fiona settled for the night, Harrow built a fire and sat close to it for warmth. The tall trunks of ancient cedars towered above her, creating a thick canopy that bordered the clearing’s view of magnificent stars. The forest floor was covered with mossy logs and lush ferns. Nocturnal creatures chirped their lonely calls, but beyond that, the night was quiet. Still. Utterly peaceful.
Lying back on the soft ground, Harrow stared up at the sky. As an old habit, she used what she could see of the constellations through the trees to orient herself. With another pang in her heart—a sensation that was becoming too familiar of late—she remembered showing Raith how to find the Tidal Wave and navigate by it. Was he out there somewhere looking at the same stars, thinking of her as she was of him?
A shadow streaked briefly across the full moon’s face.
Harrow tensed but quickly dismissed it, certain she was imagining things. But her heart rate had sped up, and her sudden nervousness had shattered the peace of the night. Though she told herself she was being silly, she held her breath and listened intently for sounds of disturbance.
She heard nothing but jolted upright a moment later regardless. The hairs on the back of her neck rose as her gaze darted around the clearing, searching for something. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear. Everything was still.
Toostill, in fact.
The chirping insects had fallen silent. Not a single sound disturbed the quiet.
Her heart started to pound. From her seat on the moss, she twisted this way and that, searching the surrounding forest. Something was out there. Something ominous.
Fiona gave an anxious whinny from the darkness. Harrow’s power stirred within, and she let it rise, gathering her defenses.
A sudden suspicion hit, and she gasped, jumping to her feet. Holding her breath, she peered harder into the dark, still seeing nothing. Now her pulse raced for a different reason.
“Raith?” she whispered into the silence.
A cold wind gusted past, lifting her hair.
“Raith, is that you?”
The ferns across the clearing ruffled suddenly, and Harrow jumped. Tamping down her fear, she forced herself to sound calm.
“Are you there? It’s me, Harrow. I—” She swallowed hard. “I missed you.” It felt wrong, exposing her vulnerabilities to the seemingly empty forest, but if he was truly there… “I’m so sorry, Raith. I should never have left you that night. I can’t believe I hurt you that way. I should have trusted you, and I’m sorry.”
Was he even there? Was she just imagining this entire scenario? Perhaps it was for that reason that she finally found the courage to say what she wished she’d said days ago.
“Raith, if you’re even there, you should know… I love you. It sounds absurd, but I think I loved you from the moment we met, and I never stopped. Even when I left, I still loved you. I loved you then, and I love you now, no matter what happened in the past.”
Silence. A breeze ruffled her hair again. Nothing moved; nothing changed. And yet she found herself holding her breath in expectation…
And then, there he was.
