Rowan Switched's Arc

Chapter 24 of 25

Rowan carried the shield down from Gloamkeep with both hands. It banged against their knee at every step. They tried to hold it out the way Lady Moon had shown them, sigils facing forward, arm bent, wrist steady. The weight pulled their shoulder down inside a minute. By the time they reached the lane below the ruins, their arm shook and the shield tipped sideways. Dawn was less than an hour off. If the crowned woman spoke first, her words would unmake them. Rowan did not know how to hold the shield long enough to stop her. They went to the only door still open to them. Luna Meridian was packing her cart outside a low inn near the tree line, guitar case strapped across her back, red hair tied off her face. She looked at Rowan, then at the shield. "Arm's wrong," she said. "You'll drop it in a minute." "Teach me," Rowan said. "I have an hour." Luna set the case down. She pushed Rowan's elbow in tight against their ribs and turned the shield so the sigils sat level with their mouth. "Weight goes through your hip, not your shoulder. Plant your back foot. Breathe from the belly, same as the notes. When she opens her mouth, you speak first. Three words. My name. Give it back. That's all." She made Rowan hold the stance while she counted to sixty. Rowan's arm burned. Luna knocked the shield with her knuckle. "Again. She won't wait for you to be ready." They ran it four more times. On the last count Rowan held steady. Rowan reached the cottage gate as the sky went gray. The small wooden house crouched under its crooked chimney, windows dark. Rowan stood in the yard, shield up, hip planted, elbow in. They fixed the three words in their mouth and waited. The crowned woman came up the lane without sound. Six of her folk trailed behind her in a loose line. She stopped at the gate and drew breath to speak. Rowan spoke first. "My name. Give it back." The words hit the shield and jumped outward. The sigils flared white. The crowned woman's mouth opened wider, but no sound came out. She tried again. Nothing. The folk behind her stepped back. She closed her mouth. She looked at Rowan for a long moment. Then she reached into her sleeve and drew out a folded scrap of paper. She set it on the gatepost, turned, and walked back down the lane. The folk followed. None of them looked back. Rowan lowered the shield. Their arm gave out and the metal rang on the packed dirt. They unfolded the paper on the post. Three words in a spidery hand: Tomorrow. The hollow. Alone. Rowan folded it small and put it in their pocket. The deed was still with Lady Moon. Their name was still not spoken. And now they had a place to be by nightfall, with no one at their back.