Page 98 of Oathborn
Zari screamed as she saw it. A roar of flames tore up through the cabin, bringing with them a wall of heat.
“No!” Ashali yelled and Zari had to lunge forward to keep her from plunging into the fire.
Tivre threw a handful of green glittering magic at the burning cabin, but it did nothing to stop the flames. He cursed and charged back into the now-inferno. Zari, clinging to Ashali, watched with bated breath.
He emerged a long moment later, his arms laden with random things; a doll, a book, a dress, he must have scooped up the first things he could see. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, not to Zari, but the sobbing child. “I’m so sorry.”
She flung herself onto the ground and continued to cry. Slowly, Tivre packed the few items into a bag that she was rather sure he’d made out of thin air. As swiftly as the fire flared, it faded, leaving behind ashes and ruins.
Tivre looked out at it. “The wards,” he said. “The whole thing was warded to prevent intruders.”
“Which you were,” Zari replied.
He nodded.
“We cannot leave her,” Zari whispered to him. “She has no home.” Indeed, it now looked as if the cottage had burned down years before. Not even a smoldering ember remained.
“Nor can we bring her with us and attract the Queen’s attention,” he replied. “She deserves a better future than that of an Oathborn child.”
Tivre sighed, as if the weight of everything rested only on his shoulders. “Her parents wished the same.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Her name,” Tivre replied. “It means,peace.” He brushed a hand over the girl’s hair, and almost too late, Zari noticed the flicker of magic, before the tension eased out of her sobbing shoulders, replaced by faint snores.
“Let her rest.” Tivre pulled the small blanket the little girl had been so proud of around her. “Tell me, Zari. Did you have a favorite blanket as a child?” The strange question caught her off-guard. “Describe it to me.”
Haltingly, Zari spoke of her old quilt, a patchwork one with a blue ribbon border. She’d spent many hours reading, curled up under it. As she spoke, Tivre drew shimmering symbols in the air over the blanket. After he snapped his fingers, the magic disappeared and the blanket now looked exactly like Zari’s childhood one. Tivre said, “To Ashali, it will still look the same as always, but its secrets are now hidden.”
Zari could have sworn he bit back a sob.
The walk to Kirkton was short in terms of distance, but took considerably longer while carrying a child, which was a task Zari had taken on. “She’s probably the same age as Annette’s boys,” she said to no one in particular. Her heart twisted with guilt. How was Annette’s family faring now?
“How old are they?”
“Four.”
Tivre considered the fact, then shook his head. “Ashali is older.”
“She’s surely no more than five. Why—”
“She’s full fae, Zari.” Tivre’s voice dropped low again. “She’s glamoured to look mortal, but trust me. She is fae, and we age far slower. I’d say she’s ten years, perhaps even twelve.”
“So she was born before the war even ended,” Zari replied. Tivre nodded, but his expression seemed strangely distant. It was easy for her to forget he’d fought in the battles too.
They crested the last rise and entered the heart of the village. A weather-worn fountain burbled softly in the center, its stone edges worn smooth by years of use. Lanterns flickered in the dimming light, their glow casting long shadows across the stooped figure pacing at the edge of the square. She wore a faded shawl over her shoulders and gripped a walking stick with trembling hands.
“Miss Maye?” Zari called out, hoping her guess was right.
The woman turned, and at the sight of Ashali in Zari’s arms, relief collapsed her frame. She hurried forward with surprising speed, eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Oh, my sweet girl,” she whispered, reaching out with gnarled hands. “I was so afraid you’d wandered too far this time.”
Ashali stirred, half-asleep, and murmured something unintelligible before curling closer to Zari’s shoulder. Miss Maye’s eyes flicked to Zari and then to Tivre, her expression shifting between wary and grateful.
“We found her in the woods,” Zari said.
The woman nodded. “She keeps running back there. Ever since her ma died a year or so ago… she won’t accept her new home is with me and my family. Keeps me and my granddaughter on our toes, that’s for sure.”
“Most wildlings do,” Tivre murmured lowly. He’d pulled his glamour back, darkening his hair and hiding his fae features. “How did you meet her?”
