Aurora Meadows's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

The hoofbeats faded into the trees, and Aurora let out a slow breath. The rider was gone, at least for now. She turned to the stranger, who sat pale against the log, one hand still pressed to his ribs. The hippogriff dozed in the grass beside him. Aurora wiped her palms on her apron and gathered her courage. It was time to learn who she had saved. She led him to a quiet spot near the glass fountain, where pale blue water flowed in steady drops. She dipped a clean cloth into the basin and pressed it to his ribs. The water shimmered against his skin. From her satchel she pulled bruisewort and yarrow, crushed them between her fingers, and packed them against the wound. He flinched but did not pull away. "You don't have to trust me," she said softly. "But I need a name." He studied her for a long moment. "Kieran," he said at last. "Kieran Thornbound." His voice was low and careful. She nodded and kept working. The glowing sprout pulsed in its pot beside them, leaves bending toward him as if it knew. When his color returned, she helped him to his feet. The hippogriff lifted her head, then settled again near the warm embers of a small fire Aurora had built. Inside the cottage, Aurora ladled stew into bowls at the small wooden table. Bread steamed beside a clay pot. He ate slowly, watching her with green eyes that gave away nothing. "Who's chasing you?" she asked. He set down his spoon. "People who think they own me. They don't. They have leverage." He paused. "There's a difference." Aurora waited, but he said no more. She did not press. She had learned patience from wounded animals. They told you what they could, when they could. By the time the bowls were empty, she knew two things. He was not her enemy. And whoever wanted him back would not stop at one rider. Aurora rose, latched the shutters, and looked at the man at her table. She had chosen her side. The garden would have to bloom faster now.