Page 73 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
“I still want to beat him,” Minerva snapped, releasing him only to clip the back of his head. “Only forworryingus so much.”
“I wasn’t worried,” said Bell.
“Me neither,” added Flora.
“I was!” said Luna, diving into his waist.
Despite the protestations that many of them weren’t worried in the slightest, Caer found himself in the middle of a hug between six dwarves.
Aislinn froze, doing a quick headcount.
Six.
There were six.
“Wait,” Caer said, voice half trembling, “where’s Fort?”
The silence gave the answer.
“No,” he said, “no, she can’t be—”
“It was quick, lad. And we buried her well. She would not want us to mourn. We’ll toast to her memory as soon as we have the ale. Give her a full send off.”
Aislinn froze. She had not known Fort well, but she had made her laugh in the brief time they spent together. Like the rest of the dwarves, she had seemed invincible. And Caer… Caer had loved her. He loved them all.
“This is my fault,” Caer muttered, eyes glazed, “this whole expedition is because of me—”
Minerva shook her head. “Fort knew the risks, still bet on the right wargi, and was killednot by you,but by a fallen tree.This is not your guilt to bear.”
Luna came up to his side again and wove her fingers into his. He squeezed them tightly, but did not look convinced.
“Come,” said Minerva, “you must be famished. Let’s get this fire going again. Diana caught us a deer on the way here.”
As good as it was to have company again, they were quieter than before, more sombre, their smiles not as real, not as wide as before. Aislinn sat by the fire as they recounted their journey into Winter, and how their signal had steered them in the right direction.
Fort had not been the only loss; one of the wargis and both of the horses were gone.
Snapdragon,Aislinn realised, chest tight.
“We couldn’t have taken him into Winter anyway,” Bell said sagely. “The snow would have been too much for him.”
That was doubtless true, but he’d have had a chance in Autumn, maybe, running wild and free… he deserved that much. Deserved more.
He’d been such a good horse. She’d barely ridden another since he becamehers.
Tears leaked down her cheeks, and she tried her best to swallow them. A dwarf had died. She shouldn’t be more cut up about a horse.
Yet the thought that she’d never ride him again, that he’d never press his velvety muzzle to her cheek, never snicker at her or beg for apples or kick his stall or do anything again, ever, wouldn’t leave her.
Beau squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ais.”
She nodded, unable to say it was fine.
Renewed by real food, Beau’s magic, and a bit of one of Flora’s tinctures, Aislinn found herself awake long after the dwarves were fast asleep. She lay across Beau’s lap, half dozing as he redid the braids which had grown a bit tangled over the past couple of days. He declared himself exhausted after doing the last, and promptly slunk off to his bedroll. They were all packed into the cave like a barrel of fish, barely an inch between them. They’d decided to set up a watch, after being caught out before. “I thought we’d be safe in Autumn,” Minerva had hissed. “Damn fool that I am. I’ve grown complacent in the cottage. No more!”
Caer had volunteered to go first. He did not look tired. He sat by the dwindling fire at the mouth of the cave, staring stonily out at the gloom. He’d barely spoken since he heard of Fort’s death, other than to volunteer for watch duty.
Aislinn stood to move to her own bedroll, but paused, tugged to his side. She sat down again, close as she dared. Not speaking.
