Page 57 of Whisker me Away
She disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Kieran alone with Elder Varric and the weight of her decision. The older man studied him with knowing eyes.
"You're thinking about trying to convince her to leave," Elder Varric observed.
"The thought crossed my mind." Kieran's voice was rough with conflict. "I just found her. The idea of losing her to a ritual that'll probably fail..."
"Would destroy you," Elder Varric finished gently. "But would forcing her to abandon her family's legacy destroy her just as completely?"
Kieran thought about Freya's fierce pride in her grandmother's teachings, her determination to honor the Bloom bloodline, her absolute inability to turn her back on people who needed her help. Forcing her to choose between love and duty would break something essential in her spirit.
"She'd never forgive herself," he admitted. "Or me."
"Probably not." Elder Varric's expression grew thoughtful. "But there's something else to consider. Something that might tip the odds in your favor."
"What?"
"Your bond is different from the historical records. Stronger, more complete, forged in crisis rather than peaceful courtship. Most of the failed attempts involved mated pairs who'd been together for years, growing comfortable and predictable. You two are still burning with the intensity of new love and fresh commitment."
"You think that matters?"
"I think ancient magic responds to passion and sacrifice and absolute devotion. And I think what you have with Freya is exactly what the original binding ritual was designed to channel."
Freya emerged from the bedroom dressed in dark jeans and a green sweater that brought out her eyes. Her copper hair was braided back with practical efficiency, and her expression held the kind of determined calm that meant she'd made her peace with whatever came next.
"Ready?" she asked, as if they were heading out for groceries instead of facing possible death.
"Are you sure about this?" Kieran caught her hands, noting how steady they were despite everything. "Because once we start down this path..."
"I'm sure." Her green-gold eyes held absolute conviction. "I'd rather die trying to save our home than live safely knowing I abandoned everyone who counted on me."
The courage in her voice humbled him completely. Here was a woman facing impossible odds with grace and determination, choosing duty over safety because it was the right thing to do. How could he be anything less than worthy of such faith?
Elder Varric cleared his throat diplomatically. "The ritual site will be prepared by sunset. I suggest you spend the day in final preparations, both magical and..." He gestured meaningfully at their obvious intimacy. "Personal."
After the elder left, they stood in the cottage's sudden quiet, holding each other and feeling the weight of what they'd committed to attempting. Tonight would either mark their triumph or their death, but they'd meet it with the kind of love that poets wrote about and ancient magic was designed to channel.
30
FREYA
Freya stood by Moonmirror Lake as the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the corrupted water, her grandmother's crystal collection vessel steady in her hands despite the heartbreak threatening to overwhelm her. The lake now looked like a wound in the earth, its once-clear waters turned murky with decay and strange phosphorescence that pulsed like a diseased heartbeat.
"Still beautiful in its own way," Kieran said quietly beside her, though she could feel his disgust radiating from their completed bond. "In a twisted, horror-movie sort of way."
"It used to be perfect." Her voice caught on the words. "Crystal clear, full of fish, reflecting the moon so perfectly you couldn't tell where the sky ended and the water began. My grandmother used to bring me here when I was little, taught me to read the seasonal changes in the way the light danced across the surface."
"It will be again." Kieran's hand found her shoulder, his touch grounding her in the present. "Once we stop the Thornweaver, the natural magic will restore itself."
"Will it though?" Freya knelt carefully at the water's edge, noting how the corruption recoiled slightly from her presence. "Some damage goes too deep to heal completely."
She dipped the crystal vessel into the tainted water, whispering a purification charm her grandmother had taught her. The liquid inside the container cleared slightly, enough to serve their purposes but still carrying traces of the Thornweaver's influence.
"First component gathered," she said, sealing the vessel with wax and protective symbols. "Two more to go."
Their next stop was the Heart Oak, the massive tree that had stood at Hollow Oak's center for over three centuries. Freya's steps slowed as they approached, her magic withdrawing from the wrongness radiating from what had once been the town's most sacred space.
The ancient oak's trunk was now twisted and blackened, its bark weeping the same dark sap that had consumed so many other plants. But worse than the physical corruption was the spiritual devastation. The tree that had once anchored Hollow Oak's protective magic now felt empty, like a bell with its clapper removed.
"The Thornweaver drained it," she whispered, pressing her palm against the corrupted bark. "All the accumulated wisdom, all the stored magical energy from generations of practitioners. Gone."
