Page 18 of In Her Own Rite

“Has Seb ever told you what he fought up there?” I ask.

“No. He says you’re not allowed to share it. But he told mesomeof what happened—the okay parts, I guess. It’s personal, for me.”

“What he fought in the ring—it’s about you?” I ask, looking up. Maren moved here three years after Seb’s rite.

“In a way. It’s complicated,” she says, and smiles softly to herself. I can see it’s not a story she’s going to tell me. It’s probably not really hers to tell.

I look out of the window again, in the direction of the cliffs.

“I’m scared,” I say quietly.

“I know,” says Maren, and puts a hand on my knee. “He’ll come back. He’ll be okay. And even Seb is okay, after what happened to him. It’s not… it’s not wrong to be like Seb.”

“No, no, of course not,” I say, my eyes stinging. “I don’t mean it like that. I just…” I swallow. “I don’t know how to be without him. I need him to be okay.”

She nods. “He will be,” she says, and we watch the lights dance over the cliffs in silence.

At five the next morning,Kieran still isn’t back.

Same for six. At half past, the sun is beginning to rise over the cliffs, and I’m getting antsy. The members of ourfikahave made our way to the common house, waiting for Kieran’s return.

I look around at the others. Saga, Isolde, and my aunt Dagmar stand close together, holding empty mugs of what used to be tea close to their chests. Seb has his arms around Maren, his head resting on her shoulder. She looks as tired as I feel. And Gabe isn’t waiting with us, but I can sense he’s awake. He’s somewhere nearby, waiting on his own. Watching for Kieran to come down for the cliffs.

I feel the tension simmering in my body. My inner wolf is jumpy and skittish, and I shove her down. I wrap my sweater tighter around myself, warding off the cold winter air.

“I’m just gonna go to the house to get some water,” I tell Saga. I can see from her eyes that she doesn’t believe me, but she nods, and I go before Seb or Maren can stop me.

I start walking up the hill, in the direction of ourfikarig. But where the path splits off towards the cliffs, I follow, keeping an eye on the horizon for Kieran’s figure. The grass on the hillside glimmers with frost. I keep my eyes ahead, looking for any sign of him. Finally, after about ten minutes, I turn a corner and think I see it up in the distance: his large white wolf, staggering down the hill.

“Kieran!” I call, and I start running. My hands jump to my pockets to check what I have on-hand: salve, disinfectant, bandages. I don’t have water with me, but we’re not far from thefikarig. I can run to get some if he’s too weak.

I smell the blood in the air before I see it on him. It’s a mix of fresh and dried, and the scent of it sends my inner wolf into a panic. I break into an all-out sprint and reach him half-way up the hill.

“Kier,” I whisper, falling to my knees in front of him. His wolf form is massive, and when I’m on the ground he towers over me. He stops and opens his mouth, dropping his bag to the ground. I take in the marks where he got hurt, but it’s hard to tell at first glance where the injuries are. The fur on his left side is matted down with blood, but the blood on his chest is still fresh: bright red and wet. His front two paws are painted, too. I reach out to touch him, and his body unfurls before me, shifting back into his human form. His clothes from the rite are gone, but I see the body armor peeking out from his bag. At least he had time to prepare for the shift, I register.

“Are you okay?” I ask, and I reach out to touch his face. He winces and moves his head away from me.

“Don’t touch me,” he snaps, his voice hoarse. “What are you doing here? You should be back at the common house with the others.”

I feel like I’ve been slapped, and as much as I hate it, I feel my eyes start to sting. But I swallow my feelings away. He’s tired.

“I came to find you. I was worried. Here, let me look at you, please.” I reach out for his face again, where I can see a bruise forming around his right eye, and another at his temple. “Were you hit? Did you fall unconscious?”

As my hand touches his skin, he shakes his head to get away from me, and rises to his feet.

“Get the fuck away from me, Em,” he snaps. “I’m serious. You shouldn’t be here, it’s not safe. Go back to thefikarig.” He reaches down for the bag he dropped, pulling out his black wool sweater. I can smell the blood on that, too. So he was bleeding even before the shift.

“Oh, um. Okay. I brought you, um, disinfectant. For your cuts, or anything.” I reach into my pocket to pull out one of the tins of salve I made. My voice is warbly, betraying my feelings.

Kieran sighs as he pulls the sweater over his head. With the movement of his arms, I see him wince. Some kind of pain in his shoulder, from whatever happened up there.

“Hey, Em, I’m sorry, I just—”

“It’s fine. You’re tired. We’ll talk later,” I say, and I drop the salve at his feet and walk back towards the house.

8

KIERAN

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