A Ghost in the House of Iron

Chapter Thirty-One

The trees are tall shadows around me, the night a thick blanket of musty darkness. Cold wind pushes the strong trunks until they creak, whipping smaller branches in all directions. When it finds its way to me, it snatches the breath from my lungs and leaves an ache in my bones. Winter is not far away. Normally, I might summon a fire within myself to combat the chill, but right now I'd rather ache. I hunch my shoulders forward and walk deeper into the forest.

Owl, she needs you. The mana sickness… She could still slip away, Balsevor says.

"It doesn't matter," I say. "I can't fix it."

Her skin may be smooth and unmarked once more, the blood washed away, but this other wound is different. Too much chaos? It makes no sense. How can I help her when I can't even comprehend what's wrong? All I've done is fail her. I haven't learned anything significant in my time at the University. I couldn't save my mother when I had the chance, and now I've messed up Sindred's whole plan. I can't even do most basic Ironborn spells, let alone protect our camp or ease her strange mana sickness.

And my father… I didn't come back for him. I can't be the son he wants. I can't face him at all. He let them take me, watched them lock me away. Now he may be in trouble, and I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. The weight of trying to rescue one parent is already too much.

We can't leave her now, Balsevor insists.

"What difference does it make to you?" I ask, my teeth chattering as another gust of wind shoves into me.

I… The dragon trails off. Owl, she…

"She what?" I demand. The wind is threatening to knock me flat on my face, so I stop for a moment and put my hands on my knees, closing my eyes when they start to sting.

I don't know. She just matters, Balsevor says.

"Why?" I ask, wiping the tears from my face and stomping onward. "Balsevor, why? Why did you choose me, and her, but not my mother? So I could heal her?"

I don't know, he says. If I… chose, I didn't know it. I just felt it.

"Then why couldn't you have felt it for my mother? For me. I needed you!"

Owlodin, stop-

"No!" I say, running my hands roughly through my hair. "We're only here because-"

Stop! he says. There's someone here.

I'm knocked to the ground as someone wearing heavy armor rams into me from the side, and before I know it we're rolling violently down the hill. I let instinct take control, fingers grasping towards the throat and legs hooking around theirs, hampering their movement as best I can while in a disoriented tumble.

When we come to a breathless stop, I've managed to pin the larger person beneath me. My hands begin to heat rapidly as I draw on fiery energy. I know if I give them a chance, they'll easily regain the upper hand, physically.

"Don't move, or I'll light you on-" I take in the features of my golden-haired attacker for the first time and stop short. "Leon?"

He stares at me, forehead furrowed with some combination of confusion and fury. I watch as realization dawns and his mouth drops open. "Adain?"

"What are you doing here?" Leon asks, standing now, in front of me. "I mean, when did you…?" He trails off, shaking his head. "No, don't. There are Ironborn combing the woods. We'll go somewhere safer to talk. Come on!"

He takes off through the trees while I'm still racking my brain for the right words to say. After considering for a moment whether I should, I rush to follow him through the twilit maze of oak and pine trunks.