Firebrand

That was a dismissal if Karigan had ever heard one. She looked regretfully at Lhean, his back to her as he spoke with the king. Not only did she want to know what had brought the Eletians to Sacor City, but she wished to speak with Lhean. She wanted to ask him what he remembered of the future, to validate all that had happened to her there. Surely he would not leave without seeing her first, but one never knew with Eletians.

Her father and the captain were also right—Estral could use a friend right now, and that overrode Karigan’s own needs. Reluctantly she left the throne room behind and, as requested, sent a Green Foot runner after the king’s counselors, and received another “Yes, ma’am!” in return.

She headed to the mending wing, and once there, Ben greeted her with a smile. “Lady Estral is fine. I’ve thawed out her flesh, and there will be no permanent harm resulting from the frostbite. She is, however, very tired, so don’t keep her awake if she wishes to sleep.”

When Ben said he’d “thawed her flesh,” he meant it literally. He had trained as a mender before hearing the Rider call, and the call had brought out his innate gift for true healing. His magic had healed Estral of her frostbite.

Karigan stared at the door, unsure of her welcome. She and Estral had not parted well on the morning of the spring equinox, the day Karigan had crossed over the D’Yer Wall and entered Blackveil Forest.

She had arrived at the wall, a sense of doom weighing on her at the prospect of entering beneath the shadowy eaves of the forest. She might not return. She might not see those whom she loved ever again. Despite being among friends, she felt alone and hoped that Alton would help assuage her fears, comfort her on the eve of her departure into who-knew-what dangers. Alton, with whom she had once been close. They might have had more, but for their erratic schedules and a certain reluctance on her part.

Despite the fact she had never told Alton one way or the other how she felt about him, even as he indicated he desired more, she had expected him to be there for her, to welcome her into his arms. She had expected him to wait for her. It never crossed her mind that he might fall for someone else.

And she certainly never expected him to fall for her best friend.

Estral had found her way to the wall well before Karigan arrived with the expedition, and she and Alton had fallen in love. Karigan clenched her hands recalling her feelings of betrayal with fresh intensity. She’d been a fool, reacted badly. Childishly. On the morning of the equinox, she had entered Blackveil, spurning her would-be lover and her best friend.

She might never have returned, might have gone to her grave without reconciling with either of them. But now time had passed and she had been through so very much, and her anger had faded long ago. The world, she thought, was too perilous and uncertain to throw away the bond of friendship over something she was not clear she had ever really wanted in the first place.

The question was, would Estral forgive her for her execrable behavior back at the wall?

There was only one way to find out, and she knocked on the door.

ASH GIRL

Karigan tentatively opened the door and peered into Estral’s room. A lamp was set at low glow, but she made out her friend propped up on pillows, covered in extra blankets, and sipping a steaming liquid out of a mug. Broth, she guessed, unless Ben had followed Aunt Tory’s instructions for a hot toddy.

“Do you mind having a visitor?” she asked.

Estral smiled and gestured that she should enter. Karigan crossed the room to the chair next to Estral’s bed. Her friend looked much better, her cheeks a warm pink, but dark circles beneath her eyes revealed her exhaustion.

“I—I thought you might want these.” Karigan held out the slate and chalk.

Estral set her mug aside on a small table and eagerly took the items, but before she could write a message, Karigan said, “I have something to say.” Estral glanced up at her curiously. Karigan took a deep breath as she gathered her courage to say what she had to say. “I—I need to tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry for my behavior when I last saw you. It was uncalled for. I was childish.”

Her heart thrummed in fear as she waited to see how Estral would respond. After a moment, Estral reached over and squeezed her wrist and shook her head. Then she hastily wiped away the previous message on her slate and wrote, I understand why you were upset. No apology needed. Afraid I’d lost you forever. It was in her eyes, the grief, the despair.

Karigan’s throat constricted and she fought back tears. “That is far better than I deserve.”

Estral wrote, It’s called friendship.

They hugged, cried, and laughed together, and agreed to forget any regrettable behavior of the past.

When once more they were settled, Estral took up her slate. The chalk tip-tap-tapped as she wrote, So good to see you. Was worried—Blackveil, you dead. She then pointed at her own eye to indicate Karigan’s patch, her expression full of questions. She wrote, Tell me everything. Got only pieces at wall.

Estral may have lost her voice, but her curiosity remained intact.

“It’s a very long story,” Karigan said. Or was it? She remembered so very little, at least about her time in the future, just fragments from notes she had made after her return to the castle. There were some details and people she could picture quite clearly, thanks to drawings made for her by the ghost of Yates Cardell, but to give a linear tale of her adventures? The part about Blackveil, maybe, but not so much about what had come after.

As for her eye, with a shard of the looking mask lodged in it, it was its own long story.