Of Blood and Bone (Chronicles of The One #2)(61)

Automatically, Fallon got a fresh jar for the propolis.

“I just knew. It was more than I’d done before. I’ve never healed a broken bone. And she was really scared and it hurt her. She was crying for her mother, so I had to calm her down first. I put her in a trance, a light one. I’ve never done that, Mallick, but I just knew. I didn’t have to think or wonder how.”

“That was wise. A child so young wouldn’t calm on her own.”

“I did what I knew, and what my mother taught me. How you look for injuries with your mind, your light. It was just the arm, or mostly. And it was like a snap—not jagged, but clean. I did a merge. With small injuries, you don’t have to. It’s just …”

“Surface,” he said and kept working.

“Yeah, surface. But to heal a bone, it takes more. But I think it went quick because I was right there, because it was fresh, and she was so little. I think. I had to hurt her a little.”

“You shared her pain?”

“It was just for a second.” A second she’d never forget. “The bone knit so fast, just that second of fire and pain, and then, she was okay.”

“And you?”

“I felt strange. Strong, but strange, and everything was a little blurry. And I was really thirsty. Thomas gave me water, and they took Twila home.”

“You did well. You learned.”

“Learned what?”

“Sometimes you think and plan and weigh. And sometimes you feel and act. And always, always, you trust what’s in you. Trust what you are. You did well.”

The next morning Fallon found a bounty on the doorstep. A small bag of salt, another of sugar—both precious—and a little jar of peppercorns, more precious still.

All had been arranged in a pretty woven basket and scattered with flower petals.

As she lifted it, she saw Twila and her mother. The woman gave the girl a little pat on the butt, sending her forward.

“I came to thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I made you this.”

She held out a crown of flowers twined with white rosebuds and starry white daisies.

“It’s really pretty.” Accepting it, Fallon made the girl smile by putting it on her head.

“You look beautiful. Like a princess, but Mama says you’re a queen.”

“I’m not—”

“I was in your light.” Twila smiled up at her, a face filled with trust. “It was so bright and warm, and nothing hurt so I wasn’t scared.”

Fallon crouched down. “I was in your light. It was soft and pretty, like the flowers.”

Twila giggled, then wrapped her arms around Fallon in a hug before she raced back to her mother.

Because Mallick was pleased with her, he allowed her an extra hour to devote to her quest. She went alone, convinced having Mick or even Faol Ban and Taibhse with her kept the horse elusive.

Though, she had to admit, she’d gone alone before, with the same results.

She’d made progress on so much—her spell casting, her class work, her archery, and her swordplay. She mastered balancing with one hand on the pool as well as the ground.

But she’d made no progress, at all, in her hunt for Laoch.

She’d told herself, during the winter, it was just a matter of waiting until the snow melted. Then she’d find him.

In the early days of spring she told herself she’d find him as the leaves grew thick again.

But winter or spring, alone or with companions, she found no trace of him.

That day, like so many others, she set off, choosing a direction at random. She comforted herself that even if she didn’t find the horse, the days grew longer, the air warmer. And the woods birthed flowers. She cut some, dug up others—not just for their magickal and medicinal uses but because having them in the house reminded her of home.

Because she could, she danced her light over some lily of the valley, thickened its spread, then had the little bells tolling. The light, pretty music lured blue and yellow butterflies.

Magick, her mother had taught her, should bring joy where it could.

And the tinkle of the flower bells, the fluttering, colorful wings brought her joy.

She heard a rustling as she smiled down. And a kind of clomp, then the blowing breath a horse would make.

For a moment, she was fooled, and her heart did a fast jump.

Then her senses tuned in, spread out. And she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be such an ass, Mick. Like I don’t know the difference between a horse and some goof-off elf trying to trick me.”

“Come on, that was a good one!” He somersaulted from a thicket, bounded to his feet, and grinned at her. “We were out on a hunting party—and we’ll be eating like kings tonight—then I saw your tracks.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide them.”

“Wouldn’t matter. I can track anything, anyone.”

“Really? You’ve been out with me for weeks but you haven’t tracked the horse.”

“That’s different. Laoch doesn’t leave tracks, and he’s invisible most of the time.”

“You’re just making stuff up now.”

“He’s probably not even around here.” Mick jumped on an outcropping of rock, sank into it to his waist. “I’ve heard he lives in a mountaintop meadow where it’s summer all the time.”