Morrighan (The Remnant Chronicles 0.50)

“Why did that survive?” I asked.

I felt Jafir gently shake his head. And then the afternoon sun dipped lower and the rays skipped through the panes just as Jafir promised they would, casting us both in jeweled light.

I felt the magic of it, the beauty of a moment that would soon be gone, and I wanted it to last forever. I turned and looked at the prism of light coloring Jafir’s hai

r, the ridge of his lip, my hands on his shoulders, and I kissed him, thinking that perhaps one kind of magic might make another last forever.

Chapter Fourteen

Jafir

Liam was dead.

Fergus had killed him.

When I arrived back at camp, Fergus was strapping the body to the back of Liam’s horse to dump elsewhere. There were only careful whispers among a few. Even Steffan held his tongue.

Reeve pulled me aside and told me what had happened.

A baby had been squalling all afternoon, and Liam was on edge, telling the mother to shut the child up. By the time Fergus rode into camp, Liam was primed and searching for a fight. He laid into Fergus again, and they argued, but this time Liam wouldn’t let it go. He wanted the northern kin to leave and the clan to stay put. If not, he was leaving with his share of the grain. Fergus warned him if he touched one bag of the supplies, he would kill him, saying the food was for the whole clan, not just one. Liam ignored him and hoisted a bag onto his shoulder, carrying it toward his horse.

“Fergus was true to his word. He had to be. Liam betrayed the clan. He had to die,” Reeve whispered, not saying exactly how Fergus had killed him.

The northern kin looked on the spectacle with both fear and respect. Laurida hung back in the shadows, her gaze fixed on Fergus, the lines at her eyes heavy with misery.

I looked at him, my father, pulling the strap tight on Liam’s body. Determined. Angry. His silence said more than anything else. Liam was his brother.

The evening wore especially long, the silence growing like a thorny hedge between us, and after the last of the children were put to bed and Fergus had returned with Liam’s empty horse, I headed for my own bedroll.

Steffan shouldered me in passing as if by accident. “Where were you all day, Jafir? Hunting?”

I looked at him, caught off guard by his question. He never brought up my hunting, since I was the most skilled at it.

“The same as every day,” I answered. “Didn’t you see the game and food I brought back?”

He nodded. Then smiled. “So I did. Well done, little brother.” He patted my back and walked away.

I left early the next day, setting extra snares along the way, carelessly tripping some and having to reset them. I couldn’t concentrate. My focus was splintered, jumping from my last image of Liam, his arms dangling loose from Fergus’s horse, to Reeve’s words—Liam betrayed the clan. He had to die—and then to the image of the mothers hushing their children in camp this morning, afraid of stirring another fight. How could the wild animals that lived beyond the mountains be any worse than this? With the last trap set, I pushed my horse faster to get to Morrighan, blocking out the world, as if the wind rushing past could carry away what lay behind me.

Chapter Fifteen

Morrighan

It had been a long morning, and worry needled through me as each hour passed. Though I had finished my chores early, weeding the garden, repairing the frayed baskets, and stripping new rushes for the floor, when I told Ama I was off to gather, she found yet another chore for me, and another. Morning turned to midday. My anxiety burned deeper as I watched her cast glances toward the end of the vale, and when I finally grabbed my bag to leave, she said, “Take Brynna and Micah with you.”

“No, Ama,” I groaned. “I’ve worked with them through every chore this morning, and neither ceases from their chatter. I need some peace. Can I not at least gather alone?” Worry etched her face, and I stopped, eyeing the furrows across her brow. “What is it?” I went to her, taking her hands in mine and squeezing them. “What’s unsettling you?”

She swiped a gray strand of hair from her face. “There’s been a raid. Pata went to the flats early this morning to gather salt, and she spotted a tribe traveling south. Their camp three days north of here was attacked by scavengers.”

I blinked, not quite believing what she said. “Are you certain?”

She nodded. “They told Pata one of them was named Jafir. Isn’t that the scavenger you met all those years ago?”

I shook my head, scrambling for an answer, trying to make sense of it. No, not Jafir. “He was just a boy,” I said. “I—I can’t remember his name.” Every part of me was breathless. “It was a long time ago.” My mind spun, and I couldn’t focus. Scavengers? Jafir raiding a camp?

No.

No.