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TRINITY STOOD, TUGGING on her dress and trying to cover more of her legs as Rocco unlocked the cage. She needed other clothes, but she wasn’t in a hurry for another visit with the witch. She stroked a hand over Mirra’s head. “I’ll be back soon.” She followed Travis out of the enclosure.
“I’m going to work in the fields again. You should come,” said Travis.
“I can’t. I need to gather wood for spears and arrows and make another bow.” She needed to make a quiver to hold them too.
“You can do that later. It’d be good for you to get back into the fields, back to the earth. It’ll take your mind off...things. They’d like to expand the gardens closer to the rocks, but the soil isn’t great in those areas. They could use your help with that.”
She had no business in the fields. She’d never belonged there. “When we leave, we step back into war. Jethro is coming for me.” She headed out of the barn, Travis at her side and Rocco following.
“I know, but Mirra won’t be well enough to travel for a while,” said Travis. “Come with me today and I’ll help you with the spears tomorrow.”
This was where their paths would veer, his toward the fields and hers toward the forest. “I can’t.” She smiled. “Maybe, after I’m done making the weapons.”
“Yeah, sure.” He turned and walked away.
They both knew she’d never be done. She’d never have enough weapons. She headed toward the forest, Rocco still following her.
“Were you ordered to watch me? I promise. I won’t kill anyone.”
He laughed and quickened his pace to walk beside her. “Nah, I just thought you might like some help.”
He was good looking, in his prime and his smile was friendly. Too bad she couldn’t fall for him. He seemed nice and she could live here in peace, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Hugh—his smile, his bossiness, his kisses. She refused to think about the days she’d spent with Jethro. He was nothing to her, except her enemy.
They wandered through the woods gathering sticks of different sizes. Rocco knew this forest well and directed her to likely spots. Soon, they headed back to camp. She sat by the barn door so she’d be near when Mirra woke. She pulled out her knife and began whittling. Rocco sat next to her and did the same. He’d been a good companion, seeming to understand that she needed quiet. Now however, she was ready to talk. It was time to get some information.
“What’s Verly’s story?” she asked.
“I’m sure she’s told you what she wants you to know.” He glanced at her, amusement in his brown eyes.
So much for trying to get him to tell tales. She should’ve known the Forest Witch’s Guard wouldn’t gossip. Flirting might help, but she couldn’t work up the energy. So, she’d change the direction of her questions. “Have you ever witnessed her visions coming true?”
He stilled, his knife resting against the stick. “Yes. On several occasions.”
“Can you tell me about them?” She didn’t want to believe in magic but all those tales told during long winter nights and days had wormed into her and had become a part of who she was. If magic were real then magical things could happen, good magical things.
“You were the benefactor in one.”
“What do you mean?” She stopped whittling.
“We only leave this island for a reason. A good reason.”
“You came to the mainland because of me?” Her hand trembled slightly and she put the stick down. “That’s impossible. How would Verly have known I was in trouble?”
“She had a vision.” He tipped his head and gave her a look that said, “duh”.
“Really?” She made her disbelief clear. He may be attractive but he was also annoying.
“Yes, really. She had a vision the day before. She told us exactly where to dock the boat and then led us directly to you.”
“I didn’t even know I’d be there the night before.”
“But Verly did.”
This was wandering into creepy territory. “Are her visions always right?”
“She told you last night that she sees what might be, not necessarily what will be. A lot depends on who’s involved and the decisions they make.”
“You were eavesdropping?” She hadn’t realized he’d been lurking around listening to their conversation and that was dangerous, deadly even.
“My job is to protect Verly and”—his eyes roamed her frame, lingering on where her dress didn’t cover her legs—“you are not without your dangers.”
She tugged on the hem of her dress and he grinned. “If she sees what could be, then it’s nothing more than a guess. I can guess at my own future.”
“She doesn’t guess. She sees. Paths. Choices.” He nudged her arm with his shoulder. “Don’t forget, her last guess saved you and your friends.”
“Well, I don’t want to know my future so the witch can keep it to herself.”
His eyes narrowed and he turned back to whittling. She didn’t care that she’d offended him. She wanted to go home because there was a reason she was here. She could feel it in the very air and she didn’t want to find out what it was. She’d been ignorant of her future her whole life and she’d prefer to stay that way. The last time she’d set out to discover her fate, all this had happened. Sure, she was alive but her life was a mess. Part of her still wanted to ask Verly why she’d saved them, but she pushed down her curiosity. She didn’t want to know.
They worked in silence for a long time and then he said, “I feel sorry for her.”
“Why?” Her knife stalled. She hadn’t expected him to say that.
“The others,”—he glanced at her—“the ones who she has visions about, don’t like what she sees. Her visions are not usually of the fortunate kind.”
“And she’s had visions about me.” The words slipped from her lips.
He nodded, his eyes darkening with compassion and understanding.
“What are they? She won’t tell me.” She touched his hand. “Please. I have a right to know.”
“You said you didn’t want to know.”
“I lied.” She hesitated. “No, I didn’t lie. I don’t want to know but I need to know.”
“She’s had many about you over the years, but”—he squeezed her hand and then let it go—“I can’t tell you. She will. When it’s time.”
“Hopefully, she does it before I leave.” She should’ve known he’d be no help at all.
“I’m sure she won’t let you leave until she’s told you what she wants you to know.”
He may believe she was trapped here, but he was wrong. As soon as Mirra was ready, she’d figure out some way to get off this island of visions that may or may not come true.