The Safe House Part 2
1135 Words
Ashen
Nara turned to me. “What cabin?”
“I dreamed it.”
“That is not a map.”
“It is the best I have.”
Veyra stood. “Dreams from dead royal mothers are usually better than maps.”
Nara stared at her. “That is a real category?”
“In this family, apparently.”
Moon’s gaze moved to Veyra then.
Not the vague, sliding glance most people gave the fae when her disguise spell tangled their attention.
A direct look.
Veyra noticed.
“Oh, right.” She sighed dramatically. “Introductions before hiding in ancestral cabins. Manners survive everything.”
The air around Veyra shimmered.
For the first time, the confusion spell dropped completely.
Moon saw her.
Not as a servant girl.
Not as a strange pretty face the mind forgot.
As she was.
A thousand-year-old fae guardian wearing the beauty of nineteen. Her hair seemed pale one moment and dark the next, her eyes silver-green and endless, her skin glowing faintly under the moon. Ancient symbols flickered along her wrists before vanishing.
Moon did not gasp.
She only stared.
Veyra smiled. “Veyra Moonwick. Emergency disaster fae. Guardian by ancient blood pact. Occasional thief of fruit.”
Moon blinked slowly.
“I have questions.”
“How tragic. I have evasions.”
Moon looked at me.
Then back at Veyra.
“Later, then.”
Veyra’s smile softened. “I like her.”
“I heard that,” Moon murmured.
“I intended you to.”
Nara helped Moon stand once Veyra finished healing the worst of her wounds. I kept my sweater wrapped around her and looked anywhere except where my mind should not go. She noticed.
Of course she noticed.
But she said nothing.
The cabin was farther than I hoped and closer than I feared.
We found it just before dusk.
It sat between black pines and snow-heavy stones, hidden behind a veil of old magic that parted only when I stepped close. The door was silverwood, carved with the same white wolf crest from my mother’s ring.
My hand trembled when I touched it.
The lock opened.
Inside smelled like cedar, lavender, dust, and winter.
My mother.
The scent hit me so suddenly I had to grip the doorframe.
Nara stepped beside me, her eyes wide. “Ash?”
“I am fine.”
Veyra walked past us with Moon’s arm over her shoulder. “He is not. But he enjoys lying recreationally.”
The cabin had two floors, a small kitchen, a hearth, stored blankets, old clothes wrapped in cedar chests, dried herbs hanging from beams, and enough preserved food to prove my mother had prepared for a future she never got to use.
Nara found clothes for Moon first.
A soft gray dress. Thick stockings. A blue shawl. Nothing royal, but clean and warm.
Moon accepted them quietly.
“Thank you,” she said.
Nara looked startled by the words.
Then pleased.
I looked away.
That did something to my chest I did not have room for.
Later, Nara and I went hunting.
She shifted into Novett, and for the first time, I watched my little sister run through the trees as something free.
Not hunted.
Not hiding.
Free.
We caught two rabbits and found winter greens near a stream. By the time we returned, smoke rose from the chimney and warm light glowed in the windows.
My body wanted to collapse.
My mind refused.
I carried the rabbits to the kitchen, but Nara blocked me at the doorway.
“No.”
I frowned. “No?”
“You are not cooking.”
“I always cook.”
“Exactly.”
“Nara.”
She crossed her arms. “You did not let Veyra heal you.”
“I am not the one who almost died.”
“You are bleeding through your sleeve.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“It is to people who love you.”
The words silenced me.
Moon stood behind her in the borrowed dress, sleeves rolled up, hair loose around her shoulders. She held a knife in one hand and a carrot in the other with the expression of someone preparing for battle.
“I am helping,” she said.
Veyra looked up from the table. “She threatened the carrot with royal authority.”
Moon glanced at her. “The carrot was uncooperative.”
“It had roots five hours ago. This is a difficult day for it.”
Nara pointed toward the stairs. “Go wash. Sit down. Do not come back until we call you.”
“I can help.”
“You helped enough. Go.”
I looked at Moon.
She met my eyes and smiled faintly.
“Listen to your sister.”
That should not have worked.
It did.
I went upstairs.
The room at the end of the hall had a bath chamber connected to it. Water ran from an old enchanted pipe after a little convincing, and I washed blood, dirt, and rogue ash from my skin until the water turned pink, then clear.
I did not look too long at the bruises.
Or the cuts.
Or the marks around my wrists where chains had bitten deep.
Some wounds were easier to handle if I did not give them names.
When I stepped from the bath, I found clean clothes folded on the bed. A dark shirt. Soft trousers. A heavy gray sweater.
My mother’s cabin had thought of everything.
Or she had.
That hurt more.
I dressed slowly, then stood near the window with a towel in my damp hair, looking out at the pines.
For the first time in my life, no one was calling for me.
No bell.
No order.
No insult.
No slap waiting because I breathed too loudly near someone powerful.
Only the low murmur of voices below.
Nara laughing softly.
Veyra saying something ridiculous.
Moon answering.
Moon.
The moment I thought her name, her scent reached me.
Not faintly.
Not hidden beneath blood or fear.
Clean.
Warm.
Intoxicating.
Moonflowers after rain. Night air. Soft storm clouds. Something royal and wild beneath it.
My whole body went still.
She was coming up the stairs.
I heard each step.
Careful.
Slow.
Then I heard her heartbeat.
It was steady at first.
Then faster.
Closer to my door, it picked up.
A soft, nervous rhythm that made something inside me answer.
My hand tightened around the towel.
She stopped outside the room.
I could hear her breathing.
Could feel her hesitation through the wood.
She lifted her hand.
Before she could knock, I said, “Come in.”
Her heartbeat jumped.
So did mine.
For a long second, nothing happened.
Then her fingers closed around the doorknob.
And the door began to turn.
- Writer
