himself. Despite a slight lightheadedness from the days of fasting and the rigorous rituals of preparation and purification, Val felt wonderfully rested and refreshed, more contented and at peace than he would have thought possible. And why not? If his mother Chyrie, who lived closer to the Mother Forest than any elf in the Heartwood, thought that he was elf enough, then he was elf enough. Had he somehow touched the spirit of his mother in truth, or had the Mother Forest sent a vision of her as She had sent a vision of Lahti to wake his body to adulthood? Did it truly matter? He had made the journey to the Mother Forest and returned, and he was well content with what he had found there.
Val picked up the furs and followed his nose to Dusk’s camp just outside the borders of the Altars. Lahti was sitting outside tending a haunch of venison as it roasted, and her dark-shadowed eyes—had she waited up all night?—lit with delight and relief at Val’s approach.
“Fair morn,” she said. “You look well. And ready to break your fast, I imagine.” She cut off a thick slab of meat, impaled it on her dagger, and held it out.
“Yes, and yes,” Val said emphatically, accepting the dagger and sighing contentedly as he sank his teeth into the juicy meat. It was tough, barely warm, and still bloody— easily the most wonderful meat he’d ever tasted in his life. He swallowed several bites before he paused long enough to speak again. “But where are Dusk and Rowan?”
Lahti’s smile wavered a little, and she gestured to the tent. Glancing to the south, Val could see that the other two hide tents, in which the other elders who had accompanied them had been sleeping, were gone. Val turned back to Lahti, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
“Dusk slipped out of the camp with the potion for you yesterday before the other elders had decided whether or not to give him permission,” Lahti said, shrugging apologetically, “and they were furious when he returned and told them. There was more argument, and Dusk was so upset that he became unwell. Rowan and I tended him all night, and the elders started back for Inner Heart. Dusk and Rowan are sleeping now.”
“He had a vision yesterday,” Val said, but now he was not so sure. He could barely remember what Dusk had said —something about Ria and a storm cloud, wasn’t it?—and sometimes it was difficult to tell whether the healer’s babblings were visions or delusions. “He spoke of my sister.”
Lahti nodded sympathetically, understanding Val’s doubt.
“He seems well enough now,” she reassured him. “His illness and the elders’ doubts shouldn’t mar your passage. He’ll be glad to know all was well with you.” There was a hint of regret in her voice; however much she might wonder about his passage ritual, and however much Val might have liked to hear what she thought of his passage dream, it would have been inexcusable for Val to discuss his journey to the Mother Forest with her, as she had not yet passed into adulthood herself.
Apparently Rowan had heard their voices, for she emerged from the hide tent, smiling although fatigue ringed her eyes as darkly as Lahti’s.
“Fair morn, Valann, Lahti,” she said. She touched Lahti’s cheek affectionately, but smiled again as she embraced Val. “I shall miss my boy, but I greet the man with pride. Valann, share our food and fire, and be made welcome among us.”
Val flushed with a mixture of pride and embarrassment at Rowan’s recognition of his new status as an adult. With all the argument and anxiety surrounding his passage, he’d hardly spared a thought about what would happen afterward. Of course, he was no longer an infant to share his mother’s hut and fire, nor a child to run wild in the forest with the child-pack and sleep and eat in whatever temporary shelter he chose. He was an adult now, and a hut of his own would have been prepared while he was gone from the village.
“I am honored to share
Val picked up the furs and followed his nose to Dusk’s camp just outside the borders of the Altars. Lahti was sitting outside tending a haunch of venison as it roasted, and her dark-shadowed eyes—had she waited up all night?—lit with delight and relief at Val’s approach.
“Fair morn,” she said. “You look well. And ready to break your fast, I imagine.” She cut off a thick slab of meat, impaled it on her dagger, and held it out.
“Yes, and yes,” Val said emphatically, accepting the dagger and sighing contentedly as he sank his teeth into the juicy meat. It was tough, barely warm, and still bloody— easily the most wonderful meat he’d ever tasted in his life. He swallowed several bites before he paused long enough to speak again. “But where are Dusk and Rowan?”
Lahti’s smile wavered a little, and she gestured to the tent. Glancing to the south, Val could see that the other two hide tents, in which the other elders who had accompanied them had been sleeping, were gone. Val turned back to Lahti, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
“Dusk slipped out of the camp with the potion for you yesterday before the other elders had decided whether or not to give him permission,” Lahti said, shrugging apologetically, “and they were furious when he returned and told them. There was more argument, and Dusk was so upset that he became unwell. Rowan and I tended him all night, and the elders started back for Inner Heart. Dusk and Rowan are sleeping now.”
“He had a vision yesterday,” Val said, but now he was not so sure. He could barely remember what Dusk had said —something about Ria and a storm cloud, wasn’t it?—and sometimes it was difficult to tell whether the healer’s babblings were visions or delusions. “He spoke of my sister.”
Lahti nodded sympathetically, understanding Val’s doubt.
“He seems well enough now,” she reassured him. “His illness and the elders’ doubts shouldn’t mar your passage. He’ll be glad to know all was well with you.” There was a hint of regret in her voice; however much she might wonder about his passage ritual, and however much Val might have liked to hear what she thought of his passage dream, it would have been inexcusable for Val to discuss his journey to the Mother Forest with her, as she had not yet passed into adulthood herself.
Apparently Rowan had heard their voices, for she emerged from the hide tent, smiling although fatigue ringed her eyes as darkly as Lahti’s.
“Fair morn, Valann, Lahti,” she said. She touched Lahti’s cheek affectionately, but smiled again as she embraced Val. “I shall miss my boy, but I greet the man with pride. Valann, share our food and fire, and be made welcome among us.”
Val flushed with a mixture of pride and embarrassment at Rowan’s recognition of his new status as an adult. With all the argument and anxiety surrounding his passage, he’d hardly spared a thought about what would happen afterward. Of course, he was no longer an infant to share his mother’s hut and fire, nor a child to run wild in the forest with the child-pack and sleep and eat in whatever temporary shelter he chose. He was an adult now, and a hut of his own would have been prepared while he was gone from the village.
“I am honored to share
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