Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 93948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Siobhan, come home.
I slow, letting my siblings rush on without me. A warm wind comes from the south, ruffling my fur. I close my eyes, my body straining toward something I have no name for. The wind brings more than those soft, singing words, more than the name I didn’t realize I’d forgotten. It brings scents as well, each so vivid that it feels like a blow to my body. Cedar and spice. Salt and blood.
Yearning rises within me, a longing for something just out of reach. I inhale deeply, and then again. I…know these scents, these…people.
Your hunt is finished.
No. Impossible. The Hunt is everlasting. A singular purpose with no end. There is no shortage of prey across all the realms in existence. There never will be. The Hunter blows their horn in the distance, directing us to the next portal.
You’ve saved us all.
Saved…I slow further. What have I saved? Even as I think the question, the answer echoes deep within my mind. Threshold. The realm we now ride through on our way to the next. I don’t understand and yet my paws plant and my body freezes. Every bit of me is crying out to surge forward and follow the Hunt, but I can’t stop my ears from straining backward, trying to find more words sung in that lovely voice.
Come home to us.
Us.
Bastian.
Nox.
Thinking the names is like a spell breaking over me. Me, Siobhan. Not little sister but a person who is also a hound. A person with two lovers waiting for me. How long has it been? I don’t know. I can’t know.
But it doesn’t have to be longer.
I turn away from the Hunt, from my people, and start running south.
Nox
Three days after arriving in Lyari, I’m sitting in on yet another endless meeting for the new Council in a large room that I’m nearly certain used to be a ballroom for events. I maintain no position—and want none—but Bastian found me a spot near the wall to observe history in the making. All observing has done is prove that the closest I want to get to true authority is captaining the Audacity.
There are already factions and alliances and petty politics, but there’s no escaping those things. We have, however, ensured that all the people of Threshold are represented in making the policies that will affect them. No one island or people holds the power over any others. And these policies are only for the realm politics—the laws of each individual island will be reverted to their respective peoples.
I catch Tia’s eye as she and an unfamiliar Yothian pass by. There will be no further sanctioned attempts to turn Yoth into a vacation destination for Lyarians. Good.
I don’t think anyone quite reckoned on this process taking days, especially when today clearly won’t be the end of it. As the hours stretch on, I start craving the sea air against my skin with a desire that has me fighting not to fidget. Right when I’m nearly at my breaking point, Bastian calls a recess until tomorrow.
He’s good at this.
No matter what doubts he held, he manages the occasionally heated conversations with ease. He holds no voting position; instead, he’s taken up as the moderator for the discussions and votes. Not everyone was happy with that choice, but no one had a better solution so it stuck. Thankfully.
By the time the last person files from the room, the light has changed as night approaches. Without a word, Bastian and I make our way to the roof, and I watch as he painstakingly traces out the amplification circle. We step into it and repeat the same ritual we have the last three evenings.
Calling Siobhan home.
In my dark moments, I suspect we might be calling Siobhan home for the rest of our lives, might go to the grave with her name and longing on our lips. I’ll never voice that suspicion, though. It feels unspeakably cruel to do so.
As the last bit of the circle dissolves and Bastian allows his glamour to fade, he slumps against me. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this. It hurts too much.”
“I know,” I say softly.
“What if—” He straightens abruptly. “Nox, do you see that?”
It takes a beat to understand what he means. And even then, I don’t know what I’m looking at. Something small and quick racing through the gap in the harbor and heading for the docks, moving faster than I’ve seen any ship. “What is that?”
“Come on!” He takes my hand and then we’re running, down the stairs and out the building and through the streets. My breath saws in my lungs, but I don’t tell him to slow down, don’t pop the bubble of hope that’s risen in both of us. Surely it’s not her. It can’t possibly…
But it is.