“I don’t suppose anyone will notice how I look with the sky this dark,” she stated and trudged up the hill after Aaric.
Bran watched her a moment, then followed with a regretful sigh.
17
Adaryn
“ W e’re here!” I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my voice, wrapping my arms tighter around Aaric’s waist. We had recently returned my horse Russet, to the field from where I had borrowed him, and I now rode with Aaric. It was dawn, and we finally entered the woods. I closed my eyes, breathing in the rich scents of the earth and trees. I’d missed my forest home.
Bran urged his stallion, Star, to follow us, until he realized Grace had reined her mare to a stop on the dusty road. He turned to face her. “Aren’t you coming, Grace?”
Grace bit her lower lip, indecision on her face. “I’m . . . I don’t know. I should probably go home.”
Bran rode back, taking her mare by the reins. “You should come, Grace. At least for a while. After everything you did for us down in Sen Altare, you’ll be a welcome guest.”
“If you’re sure,” Grace replied, but she eyed the woods nervously.
We traveled through the forest for the next few hours, riding on small deer trails. We would’ve moved faster but Grace insisted on dismounting every half hour or so to pick flowers. I tried not to snap at her in my impatience, as Bran seemed to find her behavior endearing. He liked her. I wondered if she returned the feeling. I doubted it.
Our clan was in the same spot as when we left. That was odd. It was rare for us to stay in one place for more than a couple of weeks or so.
The nomad sentries saw us about the same time Bran and I saw them. No welcome was made as we were traveling with outsiders. They melted into the foliage, no doubt to alert the clan of our presence.
We dismounted on entering the camp, and passed the horses’ reins off to two young boys. Tents were pitched without any order to them. Children chased one another, squealing with laughter, while women did camp chores. The men who weren’t guarding the camp were either out hunting or lounging around, talking to each other. A few clan members waved to Bran and me when they saw us.
We found the clan chief Oisin, in the middle of the encampment, sitting crossed-legged on the ground, hunched over an aged, tattered map with my father, Kenroc.
My father leapt to his feet when he saw me, and, covering the distance between us in a few strides, wrapped me in a tight bear hug.
“I thought I had lost you a second time.” He choked on his emotion. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”
“I’m sorry, father.” I buried my face in his chest, trying unsuccessfully to keep back my tears. I’d missed him.
My father released me, taking a step back to look down at me. “I hope there is a good explanation.”
I smiled. “Very.” I turned to Aaric, who came forward hesitantly. Oisin was standing now as well, watching us curiously.
Aaric held out the sky jewel to Oisin. “I have proved my love for Adaryn. Here is the sky jewel.”
Oisin took the jewel, his brown eyes widening in surprise as his fingers touched it. It was clear he could feel its power. “In all of my days, I never dared hope to think I might one day possess one.” His brow furrowed in concentration as he summoned the magic. The sheer force of the power he could call on was almost overwhelming, and my father and I staggered back.
Oisin released the enchantment and grinned at Aaric. “Looks like we have a new clan member.”
18
Bran
“ Y ou brought an Oppressor to our camp?” Oisin kept his voice mild, but Bran detected the anger under it. It’d been close to a week since Bran and the others had returned from their quest.
“She can hardly be called that, father,” Bran replied in protest. “She’s been an immense help in our travels. We wouldn’t have been able to reclaim the sky jewel if not for her.”
Oisin didn’t reply, but glanced sideways at his son, a
Bran watched her a moment, then followed with a regretful sigh.
17
Adaryn
“ W e’re here!” I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my voice, wrapping my arms tighter around Aaric’s waist. We had recently returned my horse Russet, to the field from where I had borrowed him, and I now rode with Aaric. It was dawn, and we finally entered the woods. I closed my eyes, breathing in the rich scents of the earth and trees. I’d missed my forest home.
Bran urged his stallion, Star, to follow us, until he realized Grace had reined her mare to a stop on the dusty road. He turned to face her. “Aren’t you coming, Grace?”
Grace bit her lower lip, indecision on her face. “I’m . . . I don’t know. I should probably go home.”
Bran rode back, taking her mare by the reins. “You should come, Grace. At least for a while. After everything you did for us down in Sen Altare, you’ll be a welcome guest.”
“If you’re sure,” Grace replied, but she eyed the woods nervously.
We traveled through the forest for the next few hours, riding on small deer trails. We would’ve moved faster but Grace insisted on dismounting every half hour or so to pick flowers. I tried not to snap at her in my impatience, as Bran seemed to find her behavior endearing. He liked her. I wondered if she returned the feeling. I doubted it.
Our clan was in the same spot as when we left. That was odd. It was rare for us to stay in one place for more than a couple of weeks or so.
The nomad sentries saw us about the same time Bran and I saw them. No welcome was made as we were traveling with outsiders. They melted into the foliage, no doubt to alert the clan of our presence.
We dismounted on entering the camp, and passed the horses’ reins off to two young boys. Tents were pitched without any order to them. Children chased one another, squealing with laughter, while women did camp chores. The men who weren’t guarding the camp were either out hunting or lounging around, talking to each other. A few clan members waved to Bran and me when they saw us.
We found the clan chief Oisin, in the middle of the encampment, sitting crossed-legged on the ground, hunched over an aged, tattered map with my father, Kenroc.
My father leapt to his feet when he saw me, and, covering the distance between us in a few strides, wrapped me in a tight bear hug.
“I thought I had lost you a second time.” He choked on his emotion. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”
“I’m sorry, father.” I buried my face in his chest, trying unsuccessfully to keep back my tears. I’d missed him.
My father released me, taking a step back to look down at me. “I hope there is a good explanation.”
I smiled. “Very.” I turned to Aaric, who came forward hesitantly. Oisin was standing now as well, watching us curiously.
Aaric held out the sky jewel to Oisin. “I have proved my love for Adaryn. Here is the sky jewel.”
Oisin took the jewel, his brown eyes widening in surprise as his fingers touched it. It was clear he could feel its power. “In all of my days, I never dared hope to think I might one day possess one.” His brow furrowed in concentration as he summoned the magic. The sheer force of the power he could call on was almost overwhelming, and my father and I staggered back.
Oisin released the enchantment and grinned at Aaric. “Looks like we have a new clan member.”
18
Bran
“ Y ou brought an Oppressor to our camp?” Oisin kept his voice mild, but Bran detected the anger under it. It’d been close to a week since Bran and the others had returned from their quest.
“She can hardly be called that, father,” Bran replied in protest. “She’s been an immense help in our travels. We wouldn’t have been able to reclaim the sky jewel if not for her.”
Oisin didn’t reply, but glanced sideways at his son, a
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