But despite her reassurances, the sound of her growling stomach rang through my ears.
I picked at my fingers as we reached the edge of the market, and our pace slowed. Dirt was perpetually encrusted under my nails, not just from gardening hobby, but also from our laboring job in the fields. It was humble work, but it kept a roof over our heads and provided enough pay that we didn’t completely starve, although last winter it’d been close.
Nerves buzzing slightly, I lifted my chin and tried not to dwell on our shopping failure or what I’d heard those old females gossiping about. Surely, the gods wouldn’t allow us to starve, not when it was their doing that had allowed our race to colonize the most northern continent in our realm. Our land’s magic had always kept us fed despite our frozen climate.
But my brother’s warning from last summer brushed against my mind like fluttering wings. Maybe I should go to the council. They’re saying the king won’t listen.
I locked down the ache that spread through my chest every time I thought of Tormesh, then brushed off the older females’ comments once and for all.
Nothing good had come from talk like that. Cailis and I knew that all too well.
When we reached the edge of the city, I looped my arm through Cailis’s. We were of similar height, so it was comfortable walking side by side.
“Thanks for having my back at the market.”
She patted my hand. “Always. You know how I feel about bullies.”
I glanced down and picked at my fingers once more.
“Has Vorl been bothering you again?”
“No, nothing more than usual.” But I said it too quickly and didn’t believe it enough to fool her affinity.
Her expression darkened.
The sun was setting by the time we reached the road to our village. We still had a long walk to get back home.
“You can fly if you want,” I offered to Cailis when we finally maneuvered out of the narrow streets.
“And leave you to walk alone? Never.” She squeezed my arm.
Guilt burned under my skin again, but I didn’t argue with her. It never mattered if I did anyway. She always chose to walk at my side.
It took two hours at a clipped pace to reach our small home on the edge of our village. Snow covered the front yard, and the old wooden boards of our single-level house needed a fresh coat of paint, but the roof was sturdy and didn’t leak, the windows mostly unbroken—save for one small pane in the kitchen—and the fireplace provided enough heat to keep the living area warm. And even though our house was only four rooms, it was our family’s home. Cailis and I had grown up here, and I wouldn’t trade it for the entire realm.
“I’ll get a fire started,” Cailis said when we reached our property’s edge.
I blew into my palms, trying to warm them. Heavy snow had fallen during our entire journey, and the temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees. The thin gloves I wore weren’t cutting it.
“Are you coming in?” Cailis asked when I didn’t follow.
“I’m going to check on the garden first. I’ll be inside soon.”
“But a gale’s coming.”
“I know. I won’t be long.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Just because we came home empty-handed doesn’t mean you have to go work in the garden tonight. You’ve got to be as tired as me.”
I smiled, forcing cheer into my voice. “I’m not tired. I’m fine. I’ll be in soon.” Not waiting for her to argue, I picked up a jog.
Her loud sigh followed, but without me hindering her further, she took flight. Her black wings lifted her effortlessly from the ground as she sailed the remaining distance to our home’s front door.
Within seconds, she was inside, and my stomach twisted, knowing she would have been home hours ago if not for me.
Pressing my lips together, I hurried through the six inches of fresh powder on the ground as numbness spread through my toes.
Banging sounds came from inside our home as light glowed through the back windows. Cailis was stacking wood in the fire, and thanks to one of our neighbors giving us a kernel of his fire elemental affinity, she had it roaring in seconds. Following that, she dug through the kitchen cupboards, probably trying to find something for us to eat.
I stopped at the shed in the back and pulled out a few gardening tools. I knew it could probably wait until morning—and that Cailis thought I was only here to appease my guilt—but I had a feeling that now was the right time to harvest the acorlis. If plucked at just the peak moment, the thick root vegetable had a sweetness to it that was unparalleled.
The shed’s door protested when I tried to pull it open against the accumulating snow. It took several tugs, but soon enough, I had several heavy tools in my arms. They clanged together and vibrated in my palms as I hefted them over my shoulder.
Angry-looking indigo and navy clouds swirled above. A gale was definitely on its way as the northern sky grew darker with each second that passed. But the richness of my garden that waited ahead soothed my anxiety at the upcoming winter.
I stepped over the edge of my field, and a tingle of magic brushed over my skin like an old friend saying hello.
Around me, my crops shone in a rainbow of colors: emerald green, bright periwinkle, burnt orange, vibrant magenta, and sunny yellow. Each vegetable, fruit, grain, and plant thrived in the rich soil blessed with orem in our frozen land, and seeing my plants made me feel as though I’d come home.
“Hello, friends,” I whispered. Running my hands over the soft petals of a berry plant, I plucked a leaf off and studied the fine veins that wove throughout it. The leaf bent easily in my palm, which meant it was only days away from being ready to harvest. “I’ll get to you soon enough, little one.”
“Do you need a hand with those tools, sweet Ilara?” a male called from behind me.
A scent hit me next—cloves and tobacco.
I stiffened and dropped the leaf. It fluttered to the ground as more snow fell from the sky, but the thriving magic in my garden meant that most of the snow evaporated before it hit the ground.
Breaths coming faster, I was loathed to confront him, but if I didn’t, he would follow me to the edge of my garden where I would be alone, magicless, and at his mercy.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
“I’m fine, Vorl.” I spun slowly to face him.
My village archon’s smooth complexion always reminded me of my wheat in the spring. His cool blue eyes hid a heart of ice, and his leathery and heavily muscled black wings were so large they nearly dragged on the ground. Like all other Solis fae, he had near-white hair. In the dying light of the impending gale, it shone faintly silver.
“Why aren’t you at the council meeting?” I asked him.
He shrugged and leaned against my shed. A piece of bread was pinched in his hand, and he ate it languidly. The scent and look of it . . .