Page 55 of The Witch's Shifter
According to those who’ve lived here formuchlonger than I have, winter comes early to this area, and snow won’t be long off. I cast my gaze to the sky, but it’s mostly a light blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds that drift in the chill autumn breeze. I hope the snow will spare us for now; I’m not sure I’m ready for the cold just yet.
“Sir Rowan,” says a familiar voice from beside me.
I look down to find the village oracle, Niamh, standing there, her face tipped toward the sky. Her ebony skin is luminous in the golden sunlight, and when she turns her dark amber eyes to mine, they glow like polished coins.
“Niamh.” I tear my eyes away from hers, unsettled by their mystical intensity. Oracles and seeresses have always made me jumpy.
She chuckles lightly. “You are still avoiding things, I see.”
Andthatis why they make me jumpy. You never know when they’re going to grab your palm or snatch your teacup or make eerie predictions about your life.
Or when they’re going to dig into wounds you’d really rather went untouched.
After learning of Aurora’s pregnancy, I started to notice Niamh paying particularly close attention to me. Her eyes often peer from her apothecary while I pass by on patrol, and she offers me these knowing smiles whenever we cross paths in the street. One day, she dragged me into the back room of her shop and sat me down, armor and all, and asked me about Lucy straight out.
But I didn’t want to talk about it then, and I don’t want to talk about it now.
Straightening up, I square my shoulders and say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please, you are far too astute for that.” When she clasps her hands before her, the bracelets adorning her wrists jingle. “I encourage you to speak with Aurora. Sharing your worries with her may unburden the weight from your shoulders.”
My teeth clench. In the distance, a young girl is knelt down, petting a black kitten. She smiles up at her parents, and they look so happy, so carefree. That’s how I want Aurora to feel. It would be cruel to dump all my fears upon her, to steal her joy away.
“The burden is mine to bear,” I finally bring myself to say. “I don’t wish to give it to Aurora. She carries so much already.”
“Do you think she has no fears? No worries?”
My eyes flick down to Niamh, but she’s not looking at me. Instead, she continues staring at the sky. For all I know, she can probably read the clouds as well.
With a sigh, I whisper, “What if I fail them, like I failed her?”
A memory flashes before my eyes: ice fracturing over a pond, red hair slipping below the surface. My stomach tightens, and I shove the image away.
“No one can change the tides of fate. And though our pasts shape us, they do not define us. Only our thoughts and actions can do that. But the weight of your fear drags you down, makes it difficult to see the light shining just overhead.” Reaching skyward, Niamh spreads her fingers, looking like she’s trying to capture sunlight in her hand. “And the light that shines upon you is bright.”
I long to be comforted by her words, to accept them as truth and lay down the burden of my guilt and grief, but I’ve carried them for so long... Who would I be without them?
“Strength doesn’t mean you’ve never failed, have never fallen. It’s in how you rise and continue on afterward. You are strongerthan you think, knight of Jorvick. You have already carried more than most. And you will carry this child within a heart that knows both joy and grief. That is what will make you a good father.”
My eyes find Niamh, and she’s looking at me now, the golden dust upon her cheekbones shimmering in the autumn sunlight. Her lips are tipped into a subtle smile.
“How do you know?” I whisper. “How do you know I won’t lose them the way I lost her?”
Her. My little sister. Lucy.
With another small chuckle, Niamh reaches out and places a hand upon my arm. “Did you ever really lose her, sir knight? Because it seems to me she’s always with you. In here.” Her fingertips brush my chest, and my breath catches.
“Rowan!”
The familiar voice drips over me like honey, like a balm on the wounds I carry deep within my heart.
I glance over my shoulder, and there Aurora is, waving at me from near the Golden Lantern, her family and Alden gathered around her. She’s beaming like a child, and if I could see auras the way some witches can, I’m certain Aurora’s would be a bright, cheerful yellow.
I lift a hand in return, then turn back to Niamh. “Thank you, Oracle. I’ll... try to take this into consideration.”
“I hope you do.” Niamh continues to smile in that knowing way of hers. She hums to herself, then continues on her way, long black braids swaying as she goes.
After watching Niamh dissolve into the crowd, I jog over to greet Aurora and the others, trying to shake off my heavy feelings with each step I take. If I do decide to speak to Aurora about everything swirling around in my mind, it certainly won’t be today, or even while her family is here. No, it would be selfish to put such thoughts in her head when she’s already so busy withSamhain and her family. Perhaps another time. Or perhaps not at all.
