Page 68 of Heart Cradle
They said nothing, but Eiran’s hand tightened on the edge of the table.
“And the cell,” she said, voice lower now. “The stone one. From Avelan. I was there again. I could feel the cold and the silence. I think I heard Aeilanna crying in her sleep.”
Hayvalaine reached over and gently squeezed Maeve’s hand.
“I also saw you,” Maeve added, turning to Eiran again, her voice lightning. “You were fighting. Sparring, with moss-covered men. You were laughing with them.”
“Gravemires,” Orilan sighed.
“You lost.” Maeve said.
“That part is definitely a dream,” Eiran said, tutting.
Orilan laughed. “Gravemires never lose, they cheat.”
“The Chain,” Maeve said, quieter now. “I saw it again and again. Over and over. Flashes of it, held in my hand, falling into the sea. Wrapped in black silk. Glowing. Dull. Pulled away from me. It felt like it was trying to tell me something.”
“You’re connected to it,” Hayvalaine said. “It won’t let go now, it runs through your blood.”
Maeve nodded. “I think... I think the Chain was pulling memories. Or maybe giving me pieces I needed. I don’t know.”
Eiran leaned closer. “What kind of pieces?”
“I don’t know yet,” Maeve said honestly. “But I think it’s trying to warn me.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the warm wind drifting over the terrace. In the distance, Jeipier finally gave up on whatever he was hunting and half running, half flying, he flopped dramatically onto the grass before them.
“I’m not sure I’m ready to understand it,” Maeve said. “But I think I’m meant to.”
Eiran reached for her hand across the table, Orilan saw this and leaned back in his chair, brushing crumbs from his sleeve. His gaze drifted to the horizon, where clouds gathered softly beyond the mountains. He was quiet for a long moment, unusually so. Then, almost casually, he said, “Did Eiran tell you I was once married to a human?”
Maeve blinked, caught off guard. “No, he didn’t.”
Eiran looked over as if to defend himself, but Orilan waved a hand. “I loved her deeply, it was a true love. I don’t talk about her much, which is foolish, I suppose. But the older I get, the more I hoard the memories, as if they’ll grow heavier and less likely to vanish.”
Maeve smiled, picturing it. “I’m sorry, Orilan… I think I saw you both when I was in the between. One of the memories, I wasn’t prying, I had no control, but I saw you together. At the end… and I’m so sorry for that.”
Orilan looked wounded, but replied with a slight smile. “Don’t be, I’m glad you did. She was… ” he faltered. Cleared his throat and tried again. “She was a gentle woman, but strong in that quiet way that makes others underestimate you until they’re already changed by your presence. Kind, and oh so bloody fierce. She once fed a fox from the palm of her hand because it looked hungry.”
“Sounds like she was brave too,” Maeve murmured.
Orilan let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a sigh. “Terrifying, really. She made me earn every moment of her affection. I tried to impress her with magic, levitated her bloody wagon through a muddy road once. She just looked at me and said, ‘You’re not carrying it, try again.’”
Eiran snorted into his tea. “That sounds familiar.”
“She was my true love,” Orilan said, quietly now, concentrating on the teacup in front of him. “And my only love, no one’s matched her before or since.”
Silence fell again, thick with something tender.
“And you miss her still,” Maeve said, not as a question.
“Every day.” Orilan gave a tight smile and looked down at his hands. “Even on days I don’t want to. Even when it’s easier not to, she marked me, carved her name in my heart, and then took it.”
Hayvalaine’s expression had softened, her gaze fixed on Orilan with something like understanding.
“She was… mesmerising, stubborn and had no problem pulling me up.” Orilan added, eyes flicking back to Maeve. “Certainly a human thing.”
“Well, someone has to do it,” Maeve said with a small smile.
