Page 78 of Lore of the Wilds

She was holding a wooden bowl filled with water from a stream between her hands, chanting the words from the book again and again for the third night in a row, when an image appeared on thewater. It was them—the image was little more than a flash, as if she were seeing them in a dream, but it was undeniably Asher’s antlers and Isla’s locs.

“Finndryl, I see them!” Lore’s voice rose through the quiet wood, startling Finndryl where he had been dozing against a tree, a book forgotten on his thigh.

He’d taken to keeping her company in the woods, even if he spent the whole time “resting his eyes.”

But now, Finndryl jumped up, his book forgotten in the moss. He kneeled beside her, heat radiating from his muscled shoulder, and peered into the bowl. “What do you see? It looks just like water to me.”

“They’re safe. On the road. They’ve acquired horses somehow.” She smiled at him.

Some of the tension that lived behind his eyes and crept into his shoulders dissipated. Despite his insistence that Isla was too stubborn for anyone to actually succeed in hurting her, it was clear he’d been worried. “I’m not surprised. Isla prefers to travel on horseback. She was always meant to have horses.”

“I’m sure one day she will.”

Finndryl raised his eyebrow. “Yeah, if she would ever settle down and get a decent paying job.”

“She could always marry a rich lady and acquire them that way.”

Finndryl’s eyes crinkled, and his lips turned up at the corners. A thrill shot through her; she’d coaxed a rare smile from him. “I can’t see one lady ever being enough for her.”

“Even if that lady owned a hundred horses?” Lore bumped his shoulder. The water sloshed over the bowl and soaked into the fabric of her dress.

He placed a hand on his chin, pretending to consider it. “Well, maybe then, but this lady better be willing to accept my sister constantly running off to chase adventure.”

Lore placed the bowl down, pushed her fingers into the soil, and drew moreSourcefrom the surrounding wood. “Duskmere next.”

Finndryl stilled beside her, all jest leaving his tone. “Are you worried about what you will find?”

Lore picked up the bowl, her hands glowing—though only to her eyes. “Yes.”

She closed her eyes, chanting the words, quietly thankful for Finndryl’s firm shoulder pressed against hers. He seemed to lean into her, gifting her some of his strength.

When she opened her eyes, the water had turned murky, cloudy. She leaned closer, trying to see through the clouds. “There is something blocking Duskmere, I think. A veil. I can’t see through it.” She thrust the bowl down, unease coursing through her.

“What if you look for a certain person instead of the town itself?”

Lore bit her lip, picking the bowl up. Her hands shook with trepidation. She’d already known there was a spell surrounding Duskmere, so what was stopping them from also adding a shroud over the town?

How else would so few people know about humans?

Lore chanted the words again, thinking of Aunty Eshe. She pictured her broad, proud shoulders, which hadn’t folded with age. The permanent laugh lines that seemed to grow more pronounced every year.

AuntyEshe, where are you?

When she opened her eyes, she saw the same shroud blocking her vision.

“No, it’s not working.” Fear crept into Lore’s voice.

“Okay, don’t panic. Try someone else close to your heart. The more you care for them, the easier it will be. What’s your friend’s name? Grey? What about him?”

“He’s in Duskmere too. I don’t see how that would work.” She could feel her chest tightening and her lungs beginning to ache for air.

“Just try.”

She looked away from the cloudy water. Finndryl was watching her, assessing. Lore inhaled a shaky breath.

“All right, let me try.”

Grey.

---