Page 123 of The Flame and the Forsaken

Mariel retreated in mock offense. “Whodoesn’tknow?”

Erran kissed her nose. “You. Ready to find out?”

Mariel distrustedsurprises because they had previously been preambles to the darkest moments of her life. Obsidian Sky had been as much about control as correction. In a world that had slipped from her fingers at every turn, she’d found solace in creating something no one else could shape or define.

But Erran loved to surprise her. He seemed to live for her annoyance-turned-delight, and over time, she’d come to trust therewasn’tsome tragedy lurking behind every lovely gesture. Just a man who loved his wife, and delighted in showing her.

As with all his surprises, she couldn’t guess where he was taking her. They were headed to the north end of the property, through the thick brush separating the Spires from the main road into the village. She’d never been up there because the entire section was cordoned off and abandoned. The path was barely traversable, hardly discernible in spots. But Erran wouldn’t take their daughters anywhere dangerous, so Mariel put her faith in him and followed with blind trust.

Erran walked ahead, Agnes’s hand in his. Mariel held Esther, who, despite her enthusiasm only minutes earlier, had crashed on her shoulder and was softly snoring away. They were both such different girls, her daughters. Agnes—named for Angelika, who had often been called Agnes—was feisty and unpredictable; Esther, thoughtful and introspective. It was too early to say for sure, but it seemed her youngest was manifesting some magic as well, which meant they’d have to send her to the Consortium of the Sepulchre in the Skies for a formal education when she turned seven. To do otherwise would mean a life of secrecy or exile. But Mariel couldn’t even think about being parted from her little butterfly, so she tried not to borrow against the future’s worries.

So much about the past five years had been like a dream. The family she hadn’t believed was possible exceeded even her biggest dreams, but it was the gift of helping others that caused her heart to continue growing even beyond motherhood. Beyond the gold and the returned land and the other corrections she’d persuaded Rylahn to agree to, she still wanted to do more. She took the girls into the village twice a week to serve food for those who struggled to afford it, and every month, she traveled even farther with them. Teaching them the service that had shaped her life was the greatest gift she could ever give them, and they had come up with their own creative ideas for how to provide aid, which was a gift without measure.

The path veered west and abruptly opened into a small, overgrown courtyard. A fountain, cracked but still trickling water from two of the six spouts, sat at the center, covered in snaky vines and old moss. She almost didn’t notice the smallish lodge beyond, because there was a tower that stretched so high, she was stunned not to have seen it from afar.

Esther stirred as they slowed. She yawned and slid from her mother’s arms, then landed squarely in the dirt before scampering to her father. “Did you tell her? Did I miss it?”

“Just in time, butterfly,” he said. She had an inclination to shrink around her rambunctious sister, due to some early challenges with self-confidence.A butterfly is always beautiful, even before others can see it,Erran had said to her once, and she’d liked it, so it had stuck. “Agnes, do you want to tell your mother about this place?”

Agnes nodded and spun proudly toward Mariel. “A hundred years ago, us Rutlands lived here.”

Mariel frowned, dubious. “This modest keep? You think I don’t know Rutlands love their pomp?”

“That’s what Daddy said you’d say!” Agnes seemed eager to continue, so Mariel gestured for her to do so. “They did live here, Mama. But it was too small.”

“Ye ken?” Mariel laughed, passing a smile between all three eager faces.

“Then Daddy’s great-great...” Agnes’s brows fused as she tried to recall what she’d been told. “Daddy’sancestorbuilt Goldsea Spires instead.” She looked to Erran for validation.

“Very good, lass. Ancestor is the right word.”

“Well, I had no idea,” Mariel said. “Lived here almost six years, and I just learned something new. Didn’t even know this place was here. Thank you for the lesson, Agnes.”

Agnes bowed and backed theatrically to the side.

“I know it still needs work.” Erran squinted as he surveyed the area. It was truly hard to imagine the Rutlands living so humbly, but there was a charm to it that the Spires lacked. The thatched roof on the main building was cozy and welcoming. The tower, intriguing. She wondered what it had been like to pass a meal inside... how children had played in the surrounding land before it had been lost to time. “We did as much as we could before the rainy season, but we’ll finish up when it passes.”

“We’re moving here?” Mariel asked, watching Erran try to read her. The idea of austere living was appealing, but it was hardly a place for a steward to do business and entertain guests. “Is that the surprise?”

“Nay, love.” Erran’s hard swallow betrayed his nerves. Whatever he was about to say, he’d had time to work up to it and was still uncertain. “It’s for you.”

Mariel was confused. “Me? You wantmeto live here?”

“No, silly Mama.” Agnes’s laugh rang through the night. “Daddy said you miss work, and your work was helping people. He said you could help people here as much as you want. They can come here.”

Esther tugged at her hand. “Mama?”

“Yes, butterfly?” Mariel murmured, her thoughts drifting.For you. For your work.

“Do you love it?”

“Aye, lass,” she answered, though she was looking at her husband, trying to understand. She was already spending much of her time in the village, even if it did sometimes feel like they were only putting ointment on a wound.

“I specifically recall you talking about how people...” Erran’s voice caught. “Died simply because they could not afford care when their injuries or illnesses were easily cured. Now, I don’t ken to know how to fix that, but I suspectyouhave some ideas. Perhaps what you need is a place to see them come to life.”

Mariel pressed a hand to her mouth so the girls wouldn’t hear the blubbering building in her throat. “Erran...” She shook her head, unable to continue, recalling what he hadn’t said. The conversation that had given him the idea hadn’t been about Obsidian Sky at all. Right after Esther’s birth, when the physician had told her there’d be no more children, she’d experienced a breakdown that had lasted months. Motherhood filled the need within her to nurture and protect the vulnerable, even more than before, but she’d envisioned their family as being bigger, somehow. Having it taken from her hadn’t dulled the joyfulness she took from mothering two beautiful, perfect little girls, but how she felt about the whole thing was actually much more difficult to define than words could provide.

But Erran had understood. He’d read her just fine. He’d known precisely what she meant, what she needed. The purpose she’d been unknowingly seeking for over two years.

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