Earth's Requiem(67)

She shook her head. “Stop. I need to eat. All I’ve had since we left your house this morning is mead.”

“Of course.” He sounded contrite. Hands on her shoulders, he maneuvered her toward the door.



She shook him off. “I can walk.” She heard the sharp undercurrent in her voice and felt like an ingrate. He’d just saved her life. She took a deep breath. “Can we talk about something else, please? I know I started it by asking about Mother, but I need time to make sense of all this.” And I don’t want you to be with me because of something written down hundreds of years ago… She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if he’d read those thoughts, but he didn’t give any indication. An iron bar of tension settled just between her shoulder blades. Her teeth were set so tightly that her jaw ached.

“I’ll make us a meal,” he said, voice tone carefully neutral.

“Great. Thanks.” I’m so scattered, if I cooked, God only knows what would end up in the mix. “I can start on Marta’s journals—or notes, or whatever she has.” Aislinn strode through the kitchen to the study. She felt him behind her, but made a conscious effort to not look back. Her heart was such a muddle that she needed some alone time.

Marta had bound journals. Years’ worth of them. She’d apparently begun setting her thoughts to paper during medical school and had never stopped. It took Aislinn a while to determine just which of the leather-bound volumes covered the years since the Surge. Finally, she found one for each year. Thinking that felt manageable, she settled herself at a cozy antique mahogany desk with glass-fronted cubbies, called up her mage light since the afternoon was long gone, and began to read.





“Here you go.” Fionn plopped a good-sized bowl in front of her. It smelled wonderful.

She smiled. It had been good to have a break from thinking about her family and his insistence that she was his long-lost soul mate. “Looks good. What’s in it?”

“Rice. Dried meat. Dried vegetables, herbs. I’ll just fetch mine. Do you want mead or water?”

“Both.”

While they ate, she told him what she’d discovered in the first third of the first journal. Marta had still been spending most of her time with her patients. But she’d seen the writing on the wall and was already stocking up on food, medicines, and medical supplies. Much of her journaling had chronicled fears that shortages would plague her little town in eastern Nevada, though perhaps not quite as quickly as they hit the larger urban areas.



Aislinn was surprised to find out that Marta had been married. She’d asked Rune, who was sticking to her like flypaper, what happened. The wolf had snarled one word: vortex.

“Anyway...” Aislinn set her empty bowl down. “That’s about as far as I got. I need sleep before I can do much more.”

“There’s still running water in the house,” Fionn informed her. “It’s some sort of gravity-fed mechanism from a spring up the hill out back. Should work so long as the temperature stays above freezing. If you’d like a bath, I can warm the water.” He smiled. “Or you can.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

He shook his head. “I will be, but not yet. I’ll begin reading where you left off.”

She picked the bathroom off the hall, rather than the one in the master bedroom. The bathtub was an old-fashioned claw foot affair. It felt positively decadent when she sank into water warmed by the spell he’d taught her. She used real soap and shampoo, thinking how much she’d taken for granted in her old life. When she was drying off, she let her thoughts drift to Fionn. Though it was subtle, a formality that hadn’t been there before their conversation in Marta’s medical office marred his features when he looked at her. Replaying what they’d said, she cringed. He’d been so excited to have verified she was his specially selected life’s mate. Something about the way he’d merged with her while he saved her life must have confirmed the information.

Specially selected by whom? I need to ask him about that.



Yes, he’d been thrilled, but she was horrified to find that she was little more than a pawn on a giant chessboard. She knew she’d hurt his feelings. Did she want to deal with that now? Maybe it will be easier once we’ve both rested…



With a towel wrapped around herself—a real towel, deep blue terrycloth—she padded down the hallway. A light shone from the master bedroom, across from Marta’s medical office. Aislinn stopped in the doorway. Fionn lay propped on pillows on one side of an enormous bed. It had carved head and footboards made of some rich-looking dark wood. Maybe mahogany, like the desk. The light she’d seen was his mage light hovering next to him. He patted the other side of the bed. “Best place in the house to sleep. I checked all the rooms. There’s another full bathroom just through that door.” He flicked fingers to his left.