Hammered Heart Folded Series, #4 by Tracy Eire

Author:Tracy Eire
Format: epub

Chapter 11. Swan a Beauteous Black

The rain did not let up.

The treed flank of mountainous foothills that cradled Bridges was regularly windswept, now it was also blasted by downpours. The sheltered spans amid thick trees were gauzy with mist. The night made for dank and unpleasant going. Ora, her hair in strings, huddled under the oiled leather stretched from Redword to Airic beside her. She, Icari, and Kit Steda, who had insisted on coming along, were more sheltered under it.

They held on to the loops sewn into the leather underside to keep it from blowing off the lot of them.

Since they’d arrived on the mountain, they been trying to find Bryhtgwydd’s entrance. She’d decided there was no iota of heat, or ember of fire on this whole mountain, and not enough dry wood to make one.

“We’ve been here,” Icari said under a sudden flash of lightning overhead, “I remember this tree.”

Airic spit into the rain—wet into wet—and growled, “Come on, Icari. It’s like... every other tree in the–! How do you remember it? First kiss?”

Steda glanced Icari’s way and shook off droplets. He noted, “He makes a good point.”

But Icari only shook his head, “They aren’t all the same, even in what little lamp light as we have,” he raised the thing and they all closed together around it to warm their hands.

Redd’s teeth chattered. “Those Fates build well for security. You could pass their door a hundred thousand times... and never see it. I feel sure.”

“That’s the darkness talking,” Ora pulled the leather down around them, and, inside, in a small knot, they were lit orange gold by the travel lamp full of oil Icari bore. Hands made shadows along the leather as the small space heated. They touched the lamp because it was nearly burning hot compared to them.

“We’re ruining our night vision in here,” Aric shuddered.

“It’s true,” Ora huddled with them. “But I cannot ask more of a crew. It’s time to get you inside. Let us build some heat for leaving, at least.”

Steda was the least used to this custom, but he was just as grateful for the oiled leather that sheltered them from both wind and flying rain. He was roughly pulled into the circle by Redd, and all heads bent over the lamp they conjointly held. Their bodies made for solid walls, and through the steaming of their shivering and breaths, the warmth in that little company steadily grew.

“Want rolls?” Ora asked.

Steda made a soft groan of, “Starved.”

“Poor Townie,” Airic snickered. “They’re helpless, Chief. Best feed him.”

“Maybe I should skip you,” Ora grinned.

The rolls she’d taken came out, and were torn and shared among the collected, who chewed contentedly. They were a little sweet, in fact. The tea was nearly cold, but they gratefully drank it from the skin.

It did help restore them.

“I’ll take the corner of the leather skin,” Icari said, “from Airic for a spell.”

Ora spelled Redd, and they lifted the leather covering to the darkened forest again. Steda snapped upright and sideways to draw his bow in such a hurry that everyone else was stunned by the motion.

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