Tanwen.
I drew the hackle back, ready to use it like a weapon.
Had the Queen grown so strong that she could send phantoms to us?
I looked behind her, expecting to see Hunters pouring into the pit, obsidian blades drawn.
The sun had risen high enough that its light almost touched the arch. Any moment now, light would reveal that this wasn’t Tanwen, just a trick of the Queen.
The apparition took a step closer, half-laughing as if she couldn’t believe it was me, and I saw the dimple in her left cheek. She held a hand out to me. “Ryn, it’s me. It’s Tanwen.”
Tanwen!
I dropped the hackle and ran to her.
She caught me close, and when I opened my eyes, sunlight filled the antechamber, pooling at our feet.
She took my face in both hands. “How I’ve searched for you! You’ve no idea what it meant when the Hunters reported that you were alive!”
She called them Hunters too?
Tanwen sobered, fear bright in her eyes. “And Aiden? I have to know for certain, Ryn.”
What I’d have given to say, Yes! He’s alive!
But Tanwen saw the truth in my face.
She pulled in a great, shuddering breath and pressed shaking hands to her mouth. After a moment, she collected herself. “Where are they? I must see Aiden.”
Then she noticed that I hadn’t spoken. “Are you well?”
I nodded yes, then touched my throat. It was the easiest way to let her know I couldn’t speak. She seemed to understand that I’d explain it later.
Right now, it was time to show her Aiden.
I quickly returned the nettles, spindle, distaff, and hackle, then gathered a small handful of grain from my food stores. I led Tanwen out of the pit, up into the forest, and along the short path to the banks of Lake Rhywar.
Tanwen craned her head once we reached the lake, barely able to contain herself as she looked for Aiden.
I pulled off my boots and motioned that she should stay at the banks. Then I rolled my leggings up and waded into the shallows. I’d grown used to the cool water and my feet were tough enough that I hardly noticed the stony lake bed.
Six black swans glided across the smooth water. I waded out a few more steps, then slapped the water the way a beaver does when danger approaches. The swans stilled, heads held high to better see me. One trumpeted to the others, and then they all swam to me.
I looked over my shoulder at Tanwen, saw her forehead crease as she tried to make sense of me calling six black swans when all she wanted was to see Aiden.
And then I saw the moment when she understood.
My swan-brothers surrounded me, gently tweaking my sleeves or hair, stretching close so that I could stroke their long necks. I opened my hand and showed them the bit of grain, grinning at their trumpets and calls. They followed me as I waded out of the water and sprinkled grain at Tanwen’s feet.
She watched, pale-faced, as the swans pecked around her feet. “Which one is—?”
I stroked Aiden-swan’s neck. Then I took her hand and poured the last of the grain into it.
She extended her hand to Aiden. He backed away, neck curling in the funny way of theirs. Finally, he nipped at her fingers, testing her, but she didn’t flinch. After a moment, he stretched his neck forward and began to eat from her hand. She raised her other hand and, with her fingertips, traced the curve of his neck . . . the breadth of his back . . . felt the ruffled feathers of his folded wings.
Aiden raised his head from the grain and looked at her for a long moment.
Then the rest of my swan-brothers pressed close, pecking each other and trumpeting. Tanwen scattered the grain on the bank and stepped back, leaving the swans to their meal.
“I hoped I’d be able to see him, and I have.” She smiled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You must tell me everything that has happened, and I will do the same. And then, you have to leave.”