Prince of Traitors

Kieran

The snow falls steadily as Owin trudges ahead of me through the woods outside the tribe's encampment. The top of her head and the shoulders of her wolf fur cloak are dusted with snow, her silver hair long and falling down her back. Her breath floats up from her flushed face in white puffs.

I tug her back by her cloak, and she laughs as I spin her into my arms. Her hands come to rest on my waist underneath my cloak as she rolls up onto her toes to kiss me. I sigh into her mouth, pulling her close against me.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" I ask. I lift a hand to brush her hair behind one of her pointed ears, my palm resting on the side of her neck.

She ducks her head to press a kiss to my palm. "Don't kill me."

I give her a questioning look.

"I'm going south in the spring," she says.

"What? Why?"

"The battles at the border will spread into the mountains sooner or later," she says. "The tribe needs to be moved or we'll all be in danger."

"So... you're going south to do what, exactly?"

"To buy passage off the continent, somewhere safe," she says. "To buy passage, we need money; to get money, I need a job or something."

"I'm going with you."

Owin shakes her head, stepping back from me. My hand falls from where it rests on her neck. "No, Kieran. Absolutely not."

"Why not?" I ask. "I can help you."

"No, the tribe needs you here," she says. "I need you to stay here and protect them." I open my mouth to protest, but she gently rests a hand on my cheek. "Kieran. Please."

I frown down at her. "Owin, you can't go by yourself."

"I can, and I will," she says determinedly. "I have to do this."

"You're sure?" I ask quietly.

She nods. "Yes. And—listen, you can't tell the girls. I don't want them to worry."

"But you want me to worry?"

She laughs. "Of course not, but I know you will anyway," she says. She leans up and kisses me. "Please let me do this."

I sigh and press my forehead against hers. "Alright, fine." Owin brushes her mouth against mine once more, and I breathe her in like it's the last time.

*

I pull back the flap of the shaman's tent and enter. Aroll sits before an array of dried herbs and glass vials, a small pile of embers still glowing and smoking in a bowl in front of her. She lays a palm over the opening of a glass vial where a tied bundle of herbs smokes slightly. The smoke gathers white against her palm inside the vial and she closes her eyes.

I wait patiently for her to finish her ritual, sitting down across the smoldering embers from her. Her hair is long, with braids running along the sides of her head and tangling into silver locks that spill down the entire length of her back. The fur lining her epaulets and belt is white, the long dress underneath deep red. One of her pointed ears is studded with metal piercings all along its lower edge, the other adorned with a feather that hangs down to brush her neck.

Her mouth moves slightly, reciting the words to some spell. Her face is finely lined, trim from her years leading the tribe along with Owin's father Emlyn. She looks like Owin, with her high cheekbones and eyes that gently slope upward.

Finally she opens her eyes. She doesn't seem surprised that I'm here; she only smiles softly as she removes her hand from the vial. The smoke and strong scent of the herbs rolls out. She swirls the vial in small circular motions, the herbs tumbling around inside, and sets it down before her.

"You want to know about Owin," she says. She continues before I can answer. "She's fine, far as I can tell."

"She's not hurt?"

Aroll shakes her head. "I can tell if she's alive, not if she's hurt."

Worry flares in me. "How?"

Aroll thinks for a moment. "All living things are connected," she says. "Every person, every animal and plant. Every living thing that the goddesses left for us on this earth has power and energy flowing through them. With help, I can amplify the connections between those energies. I can feel Owin's life force, feel that she has not left us."

"But you haven't heard anything from her?"

"When I do, you'd be the first to know," she says. "Well, after her father and the girls."

I chuckle dryly. I frown down at my hands in my lap, wanting to know things that Aroll cannot tell me.

Aroll leans over the embers and sets a hand on my knee. "I feel your worry, Kieran. I do." I look up to see her smiling softly at me. "But we must give Owin time. She is more capable than anyone I know."

I sigh softly. "I know she is," I say. "I just... miss her."

"So do I, child."