The side of Sanna’s face still ached. The depth of heat and irritation testified to a walloping bruise. Oh, she’d gotten herself into a mess, all right. Next? The careful steps of pulling herself out of it.
Lucey lived as quietly as Sanna had assumed. Sonja livened the cottage up in a brilliant way, with her frequent laughs and witty quips. Every now and then, the house rang with quiet until someone moved. Each step across a groaning floorboard or whisper of a cupboard door betrayed life.
A sound that Sanna rather appreciated.
The ease with which she tracked Lucey and Sonja in the home added yet another requirement to her list.
Noisy house, she thought to herself. A must.
A knock on the door sent a tremble of nerves through Sanna. “I’ll get it,” Sonja called.
Sanna set aside a teacup, not releasing it until she felt the firmness of the table beneath. Luteis prowled around outside . . . somewhere. He sent her errant thoughts randomly, revealing the depths of his unease.
Has he come? he asked, as if he heard the knock on the door.
Only just.
Well?
She fought back a smile. I haven’t met him yet. Sonja hasn’t even opened the door.
If she stood next to him, he would have been harrumphing in a very pouting way. The giant lizard had a streak of stubbornness fathoms wide. Not that she had so much room to make accusations.
“Sanna,” Sonja said with a bright voice. “Our friend, Gilbert, has come to meet you. Put out your right arm, if you’d like to clasp arms.”
Totally lost—Isadora had mentioned something about clasping arms, hadn’t she?—Sanna lifted her right arm. A soft hand found hers, holding it tightly near the elbow. She returned the same, heart in her throat.
A kind voice followed.
“Sanna, it’s lovely to meet you.”
“You as well,” she squeaked, barely audible.
“Have a seat,” Lucey said. “The chair is just to your right, Gilbert. The table is at your eleven o’clock.”
Gilbert’s hand dropped away. Sanna retreated to her own chair, grateful to have somewhere else to go. A light thrum of excitement buzzed through her. She felt as if her new life had just begun.
Now? Luteis asked.
She scowled. Just barely! Leave me alone.
A growl followed, but Luteis silenced.
“Lucey, how are you?” Gilbert asked. His chipper voice rolled out with deep tones. A sturdy baritone against Lucey’s gentle cadence.
“Much less busy these days,” Lucey said with a laugh. “The need for the Advocacy is lessening . . . we hope. There are a few residual issues that require me to maintain a handful of volunteers and safe houses, just in case. For the most part, however, Sonja and I have been able to settle into our cottage and find a new normal.”
Pleasure flushed his voice. “Wonderful. I’m so pleased to hear it. And Sonja? How do you enjoy the forest?”
“Very much. Oh, very much. It gets a bit dark so early, but we just light a few more candles.”
The three of them laughed, and Sanna relaxed into the sound. She gripped the arm rests of her chair, fingers tight. A momentary lull in the conversation followed, and she panicked.
Was she supposed to speak?
Explain herself?
Her mouth opened, but Gilbert spoke before she had to.
“Miss Sanna, would you mind telling me about yourself? I’m always eager to meet another witch that has had sight, then lost it. So few can understand what we’ve really gone through, and I’m grateful that you’re willing to meet with me.”
Despite herself, she couldn’t help but relax. Lucey put a comforting hand on Sanna’s shoulder and a long sigh rippled through her body, removing the anxiety that had bunched her muscles.
She leaned a little closer to the table.
“You want to know about . . . me?”
He laughed genially. “Yes, I’m very curious. If you’re willing to share?”
“Um . . . sure. I . . . I guess there’s not much?”
“Oh,” he said quietly, “I’d bet there’s more than you think.”
The clink of a glass followed. Bustling skirts preceded Lucey saying, “Sonja, perhaps you and I can sip our tea on the porch while Gilbert and Sanna get to know each other?”
“Oh,” Sonja cooed, “A lovely idea. Call if you need anything. Teapot is at your ten o’clock Gilbert, and a cup at two, should you like a bit of black tea. Cream and sugar at twelve. It’s already steeping. The bergamot isn’t all that strong, as Lucey is quite finicky.”
Lucey chuckled as she strolled past.
“Thank you, ladies,” he called.
“I’m not used to this,” Sanna blurted out as the door closed. “I’m sorry, I just . . .”
Gilbert chuckled. “Forgive me for some amusement,” he said, not unkindly, “but no one is used to losing their sight once it happens. It takes some grieving and adjusting. Sonja and Lucey are the best of witches to help with such a transitory time.”
She wrung her hands together. “Oh, I wasn’t talking about that, but that too.”
“No?”
“I mean meeting new witches. Talking with them. I don’t . . . introduce myself to other witches. Honestly? I talk to dragons all day. They used to talk back but then I broke the magic and now only Luteis . . . agh. You see? I haven’t . . . done this much. I don’t know how!”
An astonished silence followed, far more laden than anything she’d experienced in the past. By Drago, but she’d rather the violent hush of the forest.
“You . . . that is . . .”
“I live in the forest,” she continued, unable to stop. “Isadora, my twin sister, she says that witches in the Network would consider us foresters. I don’t . . . maybe that’s true. I don’t know. I don’t really know what that means. I . . . I have a dragon. His name is Luteis. I live with him and it’s not working and you can’t see it but there’s a bruise. I almost died! And—”
“Miss Sanna, please.” He chuckled. “Take a breath. I’m here all day, dear girl.”
Gasping, she obeyed. His soothing tone pacified the panic. Until she heard the voice of a potential friend that understood the sightless netherworld, she hadn’t realized how much she needed him.
Gilbert set his teacup down.
“Please allow me to say that I’m in no hurry,” he said easily. “I’ve quite looked forward to our conversation the past several weeks, and have no obligations for the rest of the day. We can speak into the night, if you like. It certainly doesn’t matter to either of us, does it?” He laughed. “I do tend to get tired around midnight.”
She chuckled weakly.
“True.”
In his voice, she thought she heard a smile. “I’m here as a friend, Sanna. If you need it, as a guide. There are more resources available to the blind than you might think. Spells, reading aids, canes. Things that would make your life easier, and I’m happy to tell you about them.”
“Magic, you mean.”
His voice piqued with renewed interest. “Well yes, of course. You don’t do magic?”
“I haven’t in the past, but I look forward to learning it.”
“Not once?”
She swallowed hard. “Well . . . there’s a story behind all of this. A big one with dragons and magic and distant places.”
“Indeed.” A thrill radiated through his voice. “So fascinating! I can hardly wait. Well, I believe we should start at the beginning. First, though, would it help if I told you a little more about myself?”
“Yes, please,” she said eagerly. “I would like that. I can’t promise anything, Gilbert. I know that I want and need help, but I don’t know how to do magic. Life in the Network is a mystery to me. A-and I’m scared. Terrified.”
Her voice trembled, but saying the words to a total stranger wasn’t as frightening as she expected.
Gravity filled his tone.
“I expect you are. There are reasons to mourn, and even greater reasons you should allow yourself to do so. All while remembering that there is a great and beautiful life that awaits you on the other side of grief. This set back of blindness is by no means the end of your path. One day, you’ll find yourself all the stronger and more powerful for it.”
Sanna’s throat thickened. She released the tears, allowing their healing balm, like a cool mist, to steal over her.
“Thank you.”
The chair where he sat creaked as he made himself more comfortable. A sigh preceded a clink of teacup on plate.
“Well,” he said in a musing tone. Sanna propped her chin on her hands and prepared for a new story and adventure not unlike her own.
From her very first friend.
“I began to lose my vision around twelve years old. I was young at the time and . . .”
* * *
The smell of cinnamon thickened the air.
Sanna perched at the edge of a chair, near a small table in Isadora’s kitchen. The crack of an egg breaking, and a mumble from Max, broke the air. Sanna felt along the edges of a heart-shaped cookie cutter, then the soft dough beneath it.
A heart?
Really?
Just because Isadora was so in love didn’t mean it needed to permeate everything. She set it aside, searched for another one. A star.
Better.
A giggle from the other side of the room made Sanna roll her eyes. If they kissed one more time . . .
Isadora’s bright voice sounded flushed with embarrassment when she cleared her throat and said, “Max is just finishing up the dough, then you can roll out the next batch, Sanna. The rolling pin is on your left.”
Sanna reached for it, gratified when her hand landed right on the roller. Silently, she attempted a spell Gilbert had given her. Just one. She was too overwhelmed by more. A summoning spell.
The easiest, he had assured her. I know of nothing so simple as this.
The rolling pin leaped to her hand. She exulted.
It worked! Without wild dragons or gods descending from the sky in wrathful judgment. Jesse had been right.
“The dough is done,” Max declared. “That’s it. I need to go to my meeting, but I’ll look forward to a batch of cookies to welcome me back. Sanna, always good to have you.”
“Thanks, Max.”
“Best of luck!” Isadora said, then ended with another giggle. Another smack on the lips preceded the crisp staccato of Max retreating into the hallway. Sanna reached for another cookie cutter, grateful for a few moments alone with her sister. The thunk of Isadora setting a bowl on the table rattled her cutters.
“So?” Isa drawled.
Sanna reached for the bowl, found it at first attempt, and put her hand inside. Silky cookie dough awaited. The smell of sugar and butter twirled through her nose. Her stomach rumbled, so she snatched a pinch and popped it in her mouth.
Delicious.
“So . . .” Sanna drawled, splatting the dough on the cutting board. “I met with Gilbert for the first time three days ago.”
“Lucey said it went very well, from what she could tell.”
“Yes, it did.”
Isadora paused. Sanna struggled to know what to say. Gilbert is very nice fell flat. I’m excited to learn more from him didn’t quite cover it. Neither did I’m still terrified because eventually I’ll have to go into the Network to learn things there.
“It’ll be good.”
The lame finish made Isadora giggle.
“Grief, Sanna. You don’t have to handfast him. He’s just going to teach you how to manage without sight. You’ll get to learn a whole new world!”
“Yes, there’s that.”
“And magical spells to help you navigate on your own.”
“That, too.”
“How will all of this start?”
“He’s going to meet me at Lucey’s every day to learn for an hour. We started with an easy spell. He’s going to teach me how to walk around an unknown witch village, too.”
“Impressive!” she cried. “Can you transport if you’re blind?”
Sanna shrugged. “Apparently? Harder to do at first, I guess, but then you can go to places you’ve physically been before. Not quite sure how it works.”
“Very interesting.” Isadora paused. “Are you excited? It seems as if it might be sort of . . . overwhelming.”
Sanna breathed through the returning tightness. “Of course I’m overwhelmed. Yes. I mean, after what happened in the forest, I want to be safe. But I’m a little scared. It’s new.”
“Very new. Is Luteis taking it well?”
“Yes. He understands. He’s happy for me to be independent, and I won’t have to leave much yet.”
“Mam is ecstatic to have you next door.”
Sanna managed a breathy laugh. Living next door to Mam and Elliot hadn’t been all that bad. In fact, she’d rather enjoyed the company, and Luteis had easy access. Junis and Cara had visited as well. She couldn’t speak to or ride them, but their presence delighted her all the same.
“I’m proud of you, Sanna. This is a lot of change. This is a lot of . . . a lot!”
Resolute, Sanna pulled in a deep breath. “Yes, it is. But that’s okay. Gilbert reminds me that I only have to think about today, and that helps. Like Lucey said, it’s still me going through this. I’m still courageous, brave Sanna, just in a different way.”
“Yes!”
“And then I can actually do things again. One day, I’ll have a house and I’ll invite you over and fix dinner for you and Max.”
“We would love that.”
“Me too,” Sanna said quietly. All the pervasive terror of these changes ebbed in knowing she had a path.
Luteis’s voice filtered into her head.
What are cookies?
She stifled a smile. He waited for her in the forest that skirted Wildrose, seething hot amongst the trees while she sat inside. His abundant curiosity about the inside of such a large witch structure knew no bounds. His questions had been relentless.
Cookies are pieces of food that taste sweet.
Might I try one?
She laughed to herself. Sure. She’d have to make one in the image of a flame.
Is this what you will be doing with the Gilbert witch?
Sort of.
Hmph. And has your sister taken you to the curious room she spoke of?
The room of curiosity is next on our list, after cookies.
His protectiveness since the arachnid incident had been intense—something she appreciated, but had to assuage.
“What about you?” Sanna tossed a piece of dough between her two hands, enjoying the squishy feel of it in her bent knuckles. “Have things smoothed out between you and Max?”
“Yes, very much so.” Isadora sighed. Sanna could easily picture her faraway look. She’d always been more romantic. “Max and I had several good talks. Marriage is hard, but . . . I love it. I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone but him. He loves me.”
Sanna gaped. “He told you that? Max?”
“Yes. In words. It meant so much.”
“I’m glad! He’s an idiot if he doesn’t.”
“I tend to agree,” Isadora said lightly, then both of them burst into laughter. Sanna plucked a heartier piece of dough from the bowl and squished it onto the flat surface. The rolling pin sank. She pressed her fingers along the edges, feeling her way while Isadora bustled at her side, stirring something.
“Now,” Isadora said with a sigh. “The challenge is figuring out what I’m going to do with my life.”
“What do you mean?”
“Wildrose is lovely, but I’m about to go out of my mind with boredom. You’re settled, Mam is handfasted to Elliot so the Dragonmasters are all cared for, and things are so lovely between me and Max. In just a few weeks, I’ll have everything all fixed in the house the way we want it, so . . . I need something. Max says we’ll become very busy with social events through the summer, which would be nice.”
Sanna’s head tilted to the side. She hadn’t thought of what Isadora would do next. Isadora had been so wrapped up in working for the Advocacy, going all kinds of places in Alkarra for and with Max, that Sanna hadn’t given much thought to what awaited her sister on the other side.
“Babies?” she asked.
Isadora scoffed. “Not yet. Max might faint if he had to deal with a squalling newborn. Besides, I haven’t quite decided on that.”
“Good.”
“We’ll figure it out later. We just decided we can live together without killing each other,” she said with a laugh that told Sanna she didn’t really mean it that way. “Max needs to meet Mam and Elliot, too.”
“Elliot will love Max. Daid would have approved.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely.”
A comfortable quiet stretched between them as Sanna finished rolling out the cookies. She pressed the cutter into the soft dough, using her fingertips to find where the previous one existed, and where to put the cutter next. The quiet movement of the kitchen, the snap of the fire, the smell of dessert in her nose, and contentment rolled through her.
Life wasn’t what she’d expected.
And that was just fine.