Tara Runeweaver's Arc

Chapter 27 of 29

When the wind died, Bjorn stepped inside and stopped. He stood beside the tall ice pillar near the tent's mouth, the frost-covered naming stone in his hands. One rune was carved. The other side was bare. He stared at the twins on Tara's chest and did not move. Tara watched his face and could not tell if it was wonder or fear that held him there. She shifted the babes gently and spoke his name. He did not answer. The midwife slipped past him and left them alone. Tara studied the set of his shoulders, the way his thumb pressed the empty face of the stone. She had measured silences before. This one she could not read. "Come closer," she said. "Sit. You carved one. We will carve the other together, like the first." She held out her free hand, palm open, the cord still tied at her wrist. Bjorn's breath broke. He crossed the tent in three steps and knelt. He laid the stone on the furs, pressed his forehead to her knee, and wept once without sound. Then he lifted his head and looked at his daughter, then his son, and Tara saw it was awe. By morning the clan had set a new marker beyond the gate — two small wolves carved side by side into weathered stone, a boy and a girl shaped by the wind. Bjorn stood beside it with the naming stone in his palm, both runes now cut clean. He did not look away from Tara when she came near. He stood close, shoulder to shoulder, and stayed.