Page 45 of A Song of Ash and Moonlight

“Though I’m not sure I can trust anything you say at the moment, I do sincerely hope you didn’t tell her anything about Yvaine, or the sinkhole, or Kilraith—”

“Of course I didn’t,” Gemma snapped. She looked furious all of a sudden, and I didn’t blame her, rightfully so. “Do you really think me that foolish? I’m not a child, Farrin. I’m a woman with as much stake in all of this as you have, and as much responsibility too. Our first letters were just getting to know each other, gaining each other’s trust. I’ve only recently started asking her about the family. I’m making a family tree, I told her. I’ve grown interested in my lineage, as many people do as they get older.”

I scoffed.Iwas being the child, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Digging around in hopes of findingfae bloodsomewhere?”

Gemma threw up her hands. “I don’t know! I don’t know what I’m looking for. But I have to try—I have to dosomething. Whatever the reason for it, I do have powers that seem to be of both Caiathos and Kerezen, which shouldn’t be possible. And you and Mara, youchanged in the Old Country just as I did. You became stronger versions of yourselves. And we heard the Mist calling to us that night—you, Mara, and me. Not Ryder, not Alastrina, not Phaidra.” Gemma’s mouth trembled a little at the mention of her late friend. “They didn’t hear that voice, that song, telling us where to go, how to cross from Edynside to Oldenside, but wedidhear it. What does that mean, Farrin?”

I couldn’t answer. My head was too full, and my chest hurt, and I itched everywhere in this strange, cold way, as if Gemma’s words were beginning to turn me inside out. I’d woken up feeling so different than usual—fidgety and distracted, the whole day unfurling before me with new possibility—and now I could feel myself turning inward again, knotting up from head to toe.

I turned away, waving Gemma silent, but she rose to join me and kept talking.

“We have to do this,” she said, “and it would be easier if you would help me.” Then she paused. “Do it for Yvaine, if not for me. Without question, we’re part of whatever’s happening. If we figure out who or what we are—”

“Whatwe are?” I stared at her, revolted and furious for too many muddled reasons to count. “And how dare you throw Yvaine at me like a weapon?”

“You’re the one choosing to ignore something that could help her,” Gemma shot back. “If she really is dying, shouldn’t you want to do everything you can to ease her many burdens? I do, and she’s not half as dear to me as she is to you.” She sighed sharply. “I know it hurt you most of all when Mother left, but—”

I stormed away before she could finish. If I hadn’t, I might have said something unforgivably cruel. I hurried out of the house and onto the grounds, which hummed happily with industry—grooms out working the horses, groundskeepers tending to the gardens withboth humble shears and elemental magic. Everyone called out to me in greeting; I replied to each of them by name, a false smile plastered across my face, and marched on.

At first, I didn’t know where I was going; I just knew I needed to keep moving. If I didn’t, the rage boiling inside me might turn into tears, and I couldn’t sit around bawling. There was work to be done, a mile-long list of work that I recalled with a cold splash of clarity. Perhaps Gemma could afford to sit and write letters and bed her lover and think about powers and fae blood and what it all meant, but I had an estate to run, one that would crumble around us if I ignored my duties. So I would get to work and put Gemma and Mother andAuntie Felout of my mind. All of those things were in the past, and the past couldn’t hurt me. I wouldn’t let it.

But telling myself that over and over did nothing to calm me, and by the time I reached the game park, flushing out a startled bevy of quail as I tore through the wetlands in my now-ruined shoes, I knew what I needed. I needed to punch something.

A little jolt shook me as Ryder’s scowling face flashed before my eyes. Was the feeling apprehension? A warning of some kind? I didn’t care. A chill autumn wind was at my back; the western horizon was dark with an approaching storm, and I was glad to see it. I felt a fierce kinship with its roiling churn, its promise of thunder. I turned toward the lake, where the greenway that led to Ravenswood lay waiting in Father’s hidden lagoon.

***

When I found Ryder, I was soaking wet and shivering, drenched from my trip through the lagoon-anchored greenway. It had been some time since I’d traveled north using that route, the last trip being one of Father’s many efforts to spy on the Basks and prepare us all for the eventual cataclysmic attack that never came. My gown growing stiffand cold around me in the mountain air, my sodden shoes squishing with every step, I trudged through the pines, cursing myself, cursing Gemma, cursing the trees themselves most of all, until I finally saw light ahead and felt a rush of relief that I hadn’t gotten lost.

I hurried out of the trees into a clearing beyond and stopped dead.

Ryder was there, sitting on a bench outside one of the Basks’ many stables. Torches flickered in the yard, and four blanketed horses had gathered at the fence to nose at Ryder’s hair and shoulders. Birds of all sorts hopped about at his feet—cardinals, woodpeckers, ravens.

And Ryder…his head was in his hands, his great hulking body slumped over in utter dejection, and when he looked up at the sound of my footsteps and saw me, he did nothing to hide the devastation on his face, the tear tracks cutting paths across his dirty cheeks and into his beard.

Instead he took in the state of my hair and dress and frowned. “What are you doing here?”

In the face of his obvious despair, the truth seemed absurd and even insulting, but I didn’t know what else to say. “I wanted to punch something,” I said bluntly.

That made him smile, a soft flash of a grin. “And so you came to see me? I’m touched.”

I made to go to him, then hesitated, suddenly keenly aware of how stupid I’d been, tearing over here without any thought of how to explain my sudden appearance.

He seemed to understand. “Not to worry,” he said drily, wiping his face on his sleeve. “After I found your sister and Talan snooping about these woods this past spring, Trina and I tracked down your greenway. Cleverly hidden, I’ll give your father that. It took us weeks of work to uncover it. The other end lies in water, does it?”

I was fiercely glad that at least for a moment, he wasn’t looking atme. Only weeks ago, I wouldn’t have felt any shame whatsoever that Ryder knew my family had been spying on his, but now things were different.

I lifted my chin a little and approached him. “Couldn’t you find out for yourself?”

“Of course not. It’s laced with spellcraft, won’t permit a Bask to enter.”

“I’m sure the greenways you’ve built to spy on us are secured in much the same way.”

He did look up at me then, with a roguish sort of smile. “Oh no, you won’t get me that easily.”

I accepted that and apologized with a small nod. “Old habits are difficult to break.”

Then I sat beside him, perched gingerly on the bench, and waited for him to speak. He was horribly quiet next to me, the very air around him heavy with grief. I wanted to reach out to him, touch his arm in comfort. An easy enough thing for people like Gemma, or Gareth, or even Yvaine to do. But the idea of touching Ryder not only felt uncomfortable, inexperienced at casual affection as I was, it also felt dangerous, like inching too close to a blazing hearth.

---