Mark if Destiny Page 9

  Passion ignited inside her belly, and Honor drew Rowan to her for a deep, ardent kiss. Pulling away in breathless anticipation, Honor looked deeply into his eyes. “Well, now, that is a reason to get married.”

  Neither spoke for a few moments as they curved their path back toward camp. Honor sighed quietly. If she was going to marry Rowan, she wanted to do it in front of their family. If her visions truly came to be, there was no guarantee they would live long enough to ensure their attendance.

  “Then let’s do this before the next new moon,” Honor said suddenly.

  It was in that moment she realized they were being stalked from above. The presence watching them, keeping pace with them resonated in her bones. Harcos was nearby.

  A chill raced down her spine as she realized she could not only sense his presence as though he were walking beside her, but she could feel his emotions almost as though she were experiencing them herself. He was trying desperately to keep them in check. Was he angry at the conversation she had with Rowan? All at once, the feeling crept into her mind—he was concerned. Somehow Honor knew his intentions were to keep her safe, but the idea of having to watch both humans caused him concern. Immediately, she did her best to think reassuring thoughts and send them to her canthion friend. She reassured Harcos everything would fall into place and turn out exactly as it should, but a wave of indifference washed over her as though the animal was trying to feign disinterest. Honor scoffed internally. Eventually, she and the canthion would need to have a serious discussion regarding their relationship and how he fit into her life. Until then, Honor decided she would try to ignore the intrusion into her thoughts.

  “We only have a few more weeks before the new moon. It looks like we have a lot of planning to do,” Rowan told her as they passed back into camp.

  “I am okay with following certain traditions, but I do not want to get all dressed up again. Can we please just make this simple?”

  Rowan nodded. “Saige may cry, but sure.”

  Honor giggled at his comment and rolled her eyes. He was right. But other than going to Milltown to get the approval of the town recordkeeper, Honor did not want pomp and circumstance, only to exchange promises with Rowan. At the thought of Milltown, Honor perked up. She remembered some discussion about Renata not being available while she was sick. Perhaps when they visited again, she could stop in to see the practitioner to gain more information about her family.

  The pair returned to the center of camp to find everyone sitting down around the fire, preparing for food. Maris was serving a stew that carried the faint aroma of mushrooms and freshwater fish. Gray perked up when they returned, offering them seats nearest the food. Honor had a feeling she would have to get used to being overfed as she continued to recover.

  Truthfully, she felt fine—only a little tired and weak. The impaiso bite had removed all infection from her body, now it was up to her to replenish the energy needed to fully recover.

  Honor took a seat as Gray handed her a large helping of stew and a thick slice of bread. She had never been a big fan of fish; it was one of the many reasons she had taken up hunting. No one ever complained about what they had for meals because they knew there was always a lot of work involved in gathering and preparing ingredients. So, making sure to avoid wrinkling her nose, Honor began sipping the broth before digging into the chunkier parts of the meal. Rowan sat beside her, touching his knee to hers. It was a small gesture, but it reassured her that he was there, and he was hers. Her stomach flipped as she thought about all the attention that would accompany their engagement announcement. Part of her wished they could sneak off and quietly wed to keep from all the pressure and guilt that came along with weddings.

  Honor looked at her family gathered around the fire. The smaller children had finished their meals and wandered to the other side of the benches to play. A few people were watching her with interest, undoubtedly wanting to ask about her sudden recovery.

  Rowan stood and approached his parents. Honor froze. She knew what he was doing. He never was one to wait for permission. Maris and Gray glanced at Honor, their expressions changing from curious interest to elation in a matter of seconds. Honor tried to give them a warning look, something that would tell them not to make a big deal about this. It did not work. To her horror, Gray climbed atop the nearest bench and cleared his throat.

  “Attention please!” His normally soft voice boisterously filled the air. “I have just learned something very exciting.”

  Honor wished she could disappear. If there was anything she hated more than playing dress-up with Saige, it was being made the center of attention. Rowan shrugged apologetically, but his wide smile gave away his true feelings.

  “Rowan and Honor have decided to wed!” Gray shouted, thrusting a fist in the air.

  Cheers erupted all around them. The children clapped, though many of them did not fully understand the announcement. Saige looked positively plump with excitement. Honor rolled her eyes but accepted Rowan’s hand as she rose to her feet. Hugs were given from nearly every member of their camp; though she could not help but notice the less than impressed expression on Ash’s face as he shook their hands. She knew he had a crush on her, but they had hardly spoken more than a few words to one another since childhood unless they were on a hunt together. Honor did not have much time to reflect on his reaction as she was swept into the arms of the only mother she really knew.

  “I could not be happier, but we need to talk about your timing,” Maris whispered in her ear.

  “You mean Rowan’s timing. This was all him. I questioned him enough for both of us,” Honor returned.

  “I think you know I mean in regard to your mark and all that may accompany it.”

  “I know. We have a lot to discuss. Meet me tonight in my tent,” Honor whispered in reply. “There are things I feel you should know.”

  Maris gave her a squeeze before withdrawing. Honor had made up her mind. She was not one to follow the rules. Looking around at her family once more, she knew the only option was to warn Maris of the coming dangers. If it altered her destiny, so be it, but she could not bear the thought of letting them die.

  Chapter 8

  Long after the others had fallen asleep, Honor sat waiting for Maris. No matter how much she argued with herself—and the canthion that seemed to hear her thoughts—she knew she was making the right decision. The rustle of leaves outside her tent alerted her to approaching footsteps. With a tentative hand on the small knife she kept at her side, Honor narrowed her eyes at the tent opening. Within moments, Maris carefully opened the flaps, smiling at the girl inside.

  “You know, you should really be sleeping,” Maris scolded.

  “I could not sleep right now if I tried. There’s something you have to know before I can go through with any of the plans Rowan and I have made.”

  Maris held up a warning hand. “I think I know what you are going to tell me. Believe me when I tell you that you mustn’t. Do not endanger what lies ahead of you for anything.”

  “But—”

  “No. There are things I already know. Things I saw in my own visions, and I have had a long time to process and accept. I have come to that point and nothing you could say would change that.”

  Honor furrowed her brow. Maris’ words caused Honor to reflect on her visions. Could Maris have experienced her own death, staring up at an unfamiliar young woman in what may have depicted her final moments. She would not have known the girl holding her hand. If Maris had witnessed the same moment, it must have been strange for her to watch the little orphan girl she took in grow into the young woman from her visions. Honor felt her head begin to spin at the possibilities implicated by her appearance in the visions others may have experienced.

  Her thoughts returned to the girl she had faced in her own visions. Could she be out there somewhere looking for Honor? Or was she still too young to have received her mark? The thought hit her like a ton of bricks. What if all the things she had seen through her o
wn visions were not going to happen until she was Maris’ age? In her mind, she tried to picture any detail that would tell her how old she was during each piece of her vision. She knew she would be in Pallisaide with Rowan in the near future. What if the girl with the crown was her daughter? She sank to her bed.

  “Are you okay? Please do not be despondent about this. I assure you, I am well prepared for anything that may come. I have made plans for every possibility.”

  Honor barely registered the words. “No. I understand. I am sorry. I am just thinking about my own visions. There are so many questions.”

  “That is the nature of our destinies. We never truly know what is going to happen until we are faced with the reality of each moment.” Maris leaned over and kissed the top of Honor’s head. “I know you will leave us soon. For now, let’s focus on your wedding to my son.”

  Without another word, Maris was gone. Honor curled into a ball on her cot and drifted off into a dreamless sleep. When she woke, she was disoriented from her slumber. Flashes of death and blood invaded her thoughts and her heart hammered at the thought of what she may find in the sunlit clearing. Could this be the moment when she found her friends and family massacred? Honor sprang from her bed and dashed to exit the tent.

  A glint of sun was peeking through the barren branches overhead. The camp was busy with activity. People were milling about, doing whatever they did while the children listened intently to their teacher for the day. Apparently, it was Gray’s turn to work with the young ones. He was showing them his bow and supervising as they each worked on replacing a string on their own smaller bows. Honor wondered what children learned in the villages. There was always room for more information to be gained and shared amongst their people.

  Honor strolled past the enraptured children, seeking out Rowan so they could head to Milltown for a meeting with the recordkeeper. She found him chopping vegetables with his mother. Honor smiled as she watched the two of them move around each other effortlessly. They made a great team; she could only hope that one day she and Rowan would have such a strong bond with their own children. As if on cue, Rowan looked up to greet her with a large, goofy grin. He wiped his hands off and removed the well-worn apron he always wore when preparing meals.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to rise. You missed breakfast, but I saved you some pancakes.” He winked as he revealed a heartily stacked plate.

  Honor did not have time to offer a reply before her stomach did the talking for her. A loud grumble erupted from her mid-section announcing how much it enjoyed the prospect of a meal. With a sheepish grin, Honor tucked in to the plate.

  “You’ll be heading into Milltown today, I suspect,” Maris stated as she continued chopping green onions.

  Honor nodded with an overfull mouth. Rowan laughed and answered for her. “We might as well head in and get the process started.”

  In Alderwood, marriage was about more than two people coming together to share their lives. For village dwellers, there was significantly more paperwork involved because of the division and combination of assets. For Rowan and Honor it would be much easier. Neither of them had any property or money to bring to their marriage. There were no debt collectors to pay before they could combine their households. There were no children for anyone to adopt or seek out family members for. There was only the two of them. Honor felt a twinge of concern at the thought. The only issue they would encounter was proving her parentage. They both had to provide proof that their parents approved of the union. She could prove her mother was dead, but what of the father she never knew?

  “Maris, will not they ask me about my birth parents?”

  For a moment, Maris furrowed her brow as though uncertain what to say in response. Before Honor could ask a follow-up question, the older woman shook her head and smiled. “No. Your mother may not have been in this world with you for long, but she made sure to leave you with the things you would need for your future.”

  Honor and Rowan exchanged a confused look. As far as she knew, no one in their encampment knew her birth mother. She had no idea what Maris could have been talking about. With a wink, Maris turned on her heel and headed for her personal tent. Rowan shrugged at Honor as she took another oversized bite of pancakes. If she had learned anything about Maris, it was that the woman always had a reason for everything she did.

  “Do you remember this?” Maris asked as she approached with a worn leather bag held aloft.

  Honor shook her head. The bag was clearly made for a child, the straps were short and the sack itself would have looked silly on the back of a fully grown adult. It looked old and when it was placed on the table in front of her, Honor wrinkled her nose at the musty odor clinging to it.

  “Where did you find that thing?” Honor tried not to breathe through her nose.

  “Nine years ago, a sweet little girl stumbled across my path. She had nothing but the clothes on her tiny body and a sack strapped to her back. This was all you had left of the life you lived before you came to be with us.”

  Honor stared at the well-worn surface. Inside, there could be answers. Inside, she may find out who her father was and what made her mother return to Milltown without him. She placed one tentative hand on the soft fabric. Obviously, Maris knew what was in the bag. If she had known something about her parents, Honor was certain she would have told her long ago.

  She glanced at Rowan who offered an encouraging smile. He knew how much she longed for answers. Honor gripped the top of the bag and carefully untied the cinched strap. She did not know exactly what she had expected to find inside, but she was immediately disappointed. A matted, stuffed bear seemed to dominate the interior, obviously a relic from her orphan life. It was not familiar to her at all. Had it been a gift from her mother before she died? Had it come from one of the families she lived with a few days at a time? With a shaking hand, she pulled the bear out of the bag. The stuffing had broken down through the years and the insides crinkled slightly as she moved it aside. Underneath the bear, she found a metal cylinder. It had been crafted by someone with a strong knowledge of puzzles. She shot a quizzical look at Maris.

  “When I found you, you were gripping that bear as though it would save your life. In the pack I found moldy food, torn clothing and that capsule. I can tell you do not remember it, but I could see how important it would be from the moment I examined the capsule.

  “How did you crack the code? Do not contraptions like this have complicated sequences?” Honor turned it over in her hands.

  “I did not crack the code. The important papers were wrapped around it, protected by a leather sheath. I do not know what’s inside that. I have a feeling whatever is inside is for your eyes only.”

  Honor still did not understand where this was leading. She looked at the capsule again. It was made of bronze and had tarnished with age. It had been kept in the dirty old leather satchel for nine years. She doubted it would open even if she figured out the code. With a frustrated sigh, she looked once more to her adopted mother, hoping for answers. Maris had no further information to offer aside from gesturing for her to continue to dig in the bag.

  In the bottom of the satchel, Honor found the leather wrapped scroll that had once protected the capsule. She pulled it out and turned it over in her hands. A thin cord fastened either side together. With a slight pull, she opened the bundle. The smell of old paper assaulted her nose. A long-forgotten roll of papers felt dry and fragile. Honor brought them into the sunlight and began to unroll them, bursting with questions about what she would discover.

  Carefully, she unfurled the scroll. With a jolt of realization, Honor discovered the first paper in her hands was her birth certificate. Her eyes traced each letter, searching for some indication of her father. There, below the line that announced her name she found the name she had longed to find. Soren. She read it over and over. Wondering why her heart did not feel whole.

  “Look, there’s more,” Rowan said over
her shoulder.

  Honor slid the birth certificate behind the other papers. The page behind told her everything she had wanted to know about her father. Soren had been a traveling merchant. He was born in Goldenlark, the county seat. The only other piece of information she found was the one thing she had dreaded. Soren, the man she had dreamed of meeting, was dead.

  According to the death certificate she now held, Soren had died in an accident months before she was born. Honor could not help but wonder how Laurel and Soren had met. The young woman had run off to Pallisaide in search of her destiny but found Soren instead. Did they meet in Pallisaide or somewhere on the road between? Even though she had the closure of knowing her father and mother were reunited in death, Honor did not feel an ounce of sadness learning of her father’s death. It seemed odd for her to feel no grief. She still allowed herself the occasional tear for the loss of her mother. Perhaps because she had known Laurel, it hurt more to know she was gone.

  The next page made Honor furrow her brow.

  “What is a bond?” She held the paper up to Maris.

  “Oh my. Let me see.” Maris took the page in her hands and read through it briefly. “Honor, this paper gives you the right to collect money that your family once invested. This if very old. It was used to help fund the Goldenlark exchange.”

  “Well, it looks like we have everything we need for our marriage application. Milltown will have your mother’s death certificate.” Rowan placed a hand on her shoulder.

  Honor smiled up at him. “Are we ready then?”

  He nodded once and offered her a hand. Honor stuffed the capsule, papers and bear back into the satchel from her childhood. Maris had made them a few loaves of bread and sliced some cheese for them to take along to Milltown. Rowan packed it all up while Honor stopped back at her tent to get her bow and arrow.

  “Hello, Honor.” Harcos looked much larger inside the lined walls of her tent.

  She gripped her chest. “How did you get in here?”