Page 100 of A Land So Wide
He no longer knew what that plan was. He’d counted on the queen to take Greer from Mistaken, to bring her to the mine, to tell her everything. He wasn’t supposed to meet the queen’s daughter here, when her grief was open and raw, when she didn’t know the truth of who she was, of what she would become.
He stood watching now on uncertain ground, terrified of taking a wrong step. He wanted to howl with frustration.Whyhad the queen waited so long?Whyhadn’t she explained?Howcould she have left him with this impossible decision?
If the guard stepped out now, full of stories of courts and crowns, he’d frighten Greer, ruining any chance that she’d ever take her place as sovereign. She’d never leave the Stones again, content to keep herself in their security and in the arms of her mortal suitor.
The guard knew all about his human rival. He’d caught passing glimpses of him as he sailed high over the cove. He’d heard the queen’s whispered assurances that it was a phase, a fling, a small moment of Greer’s life that would never amount to anything.
Still, he regarded this boy with suspicion.
And where was he now, when his sweetheart, the girl who was supposed to mean more to him than any other in the world, was falling apart, cracking under the weight of unspeakable grief?
Greer burst into a fresh set of tears, the pitch of her agony growing higher, and the guard cowered against such might. He had to do something. He couldn’t bear to witness this distress, and shuddered to think what chaos her voice might cause if it wasn’t stopped.
The song fell out of him before he was even aware he’d thought of it.
It was a lullaby, a very old one.
The queen had always been full of music and melodies, sad songs of lost loves and bittersweet ends. Songs that made you forget what you were meant to be doing as you paused to listen, beguiled by the haunting beauty of her lilting notes.
The guard had watched this happen to both the Gathered and mortals alike. He watched Greer now, her sobs stuttering to a stop as she caught the first strain of his mimicked notes. Her bright-gray eyes were large and luminous as they swept over the edge of the clearing, looking into the trees. When they passed over the guard, his breath caught, and he stopped the song.
“Mama?” There was so much hope contained in that one anxious word that the guard’s chest ached and he could not continue.
The queen’s daughter pushed herself up and approached the forest. He wondered if he’d somehow made a noise that had given his location away, or if she, too, felt the unmistakable link they shared.
The guard didn’t know what inspired it—if it was the queen’s will or his own heart—but he knew he could travel the whole expanse of the frozen north, flying thousands of miles to its distant rocky shore, and always find his way back to her.
Greer.
He knew the sound of her blood. Its racing cadences were as familiar to him as his own. He knew each and every one of her bends and curves, from the way her eyes lifted as she smiled to the full swell of her lips, and the angular shapes her fingers made as she drew, holdingon to charcoal nubs. From afar she had dazzled him, bewitching his heart, holding captive his thoughts, so that all he could see was their shared future.
They would reclaim the court, and Greer would take her place as the rightful sovereign. The Gathered would leave behind these mountains and go north, go west, go wherever their wanderlust led. They would see wonders.
But first, he’d need to—
A twig snapped underfoot, pulling the guard back to the here and now. She’d gotten so much closer. His ears perked, and their movement drew her attention. When she spotted him, she let out a short gasp.
The guard swayed from side to side, unsure of what to do. He whined softly, praying she’d understand he was not a threat. Again, the queen’s daughter surprised him. With slow, careful movements, she knelt into a gathering of reeds, her eyes never leaving his.
“Mama loved wolves,” she began, her voice wavering and raw. “Did she…did she send you to me?”
The guard ducked, an assent, a reverent bow. He wasn’t sure how she took the gesture, but one corner of her mouth rose, in a faint smile.
“She died today,” she went on. “And I know she’s gone, I know she’s not coming back, but…I could have sworn I just heard her singing.” Her laugh was barbed and bitter. “I feel like I’ve gone mad.”
She hung her head low, and a dark lock of hair tumbled from her braid. Everything in the guard ached to shift, so that he might be the one to tuck the strands behind her ear, so that he might be the one to push aside her tears. They fell unchecked from her swollen eyes, and she hugged her arms tightly around her body.
The guard could feel time pass, slipping over their shared moment like water droplets racing off the wings of a duck. The sky grew darker, and the woods readied for the coming night. Crepuscular animals awoke in their burrows. Owls stirred. Crickets and katydids broke into song. But the queen’s daughter didn’t notice.
It wasn’t until a great bellowing roar rolled down from the hill inside the Stones that she stirred. She blinked hard, realizing the time, realizing what the horn meant.
“I…I have to go. Father will be…” Her voice tightened and dropped away. She looked at the guard. “I wish I had a gratitude to give you.” She searched the clearing, absently fiddling with a length of silk wrapped around her wrist.
The guard instantly recognized the starry knots and stitches. The queen had sewn this ribbon. With gentle movements, he edged closer to her, nudging at the bracelet with his snout. Greer took in a sharp breath, but he did not smell fear, only wonder.
“Would you…” she began, then laughed with soft incredulity. “Would you like this?”
He lowered his head, showing he meant no harm, and remained as still as he could as she removed the ribbon and tied it loosely around one of his front paws.
