Chimera Fields gold heart; silver tears

The tender brush of Allure’s muzzle against the velveteen of Cypress’ crown produced an automatic flicker of his raven-feathered tail, but it stilled almost immediately when his eyes blinked open to the destruction that threatened to drown him. What did it matter if the bears returned? The boy’s mind flipped wildly through memories and conversations as he sought blindly for a way to cope, but his youthful face was a blood-spattered, shell-shocked mask, devoid of expression. “I need both my boys to protect me.” Eshe’s voice, smooth as honey and twice as sweet, replayed itself in fits and starts. “Your fairy godmother, Deirdre, ensured that I would have the perfect little team. She did something and the pain was gone! It was magic, it was — she is one of the most powerful wolves in the valley.” Shrike was next to speak, and although it was hard to hear him over Eshe’s voice, Cypress did his level best — too-tall ears swiveled toward the grayscale wolf and cupped attentively.

After a prolonged silence, “Deirdre,” mumbled the boy quietly, latching on to his last hope, laying every card on the table in hopes that the river might save him. “She fixed me and Rannoch. She can fix Mama and Paw.” He turned from Shrike to Allure with a burning intensity kindling in his lantern yellow eyes. “Mama said she’s one of the most powerful wolves in the valley — she can fix them with her magic.”

Even as the hopeful words fell dully from his lips, resignation began to steal over the sulphureous-eyed raven, turning his limbs to stone and his pelt to dust. “I’m lying,” he realized in a hollow whisper, turning to Allure and fixing her with an intense stare. He searched her expression, reading the stricken lines of her beautiful face, flipping hastily to the end of the chapter to see whether the white witch of the wood would come. “Nobody can put — ” The thickness in his throat stopped the words cold as a sharp intake of breath jerked his entire body. “Nobody can put them back together.” His gaze slid to Shrike for confirmation, resting on the striking wolf’s empathetic expression briefly before returning to Eshe’s bloodied visage. “You can go home if you want,” he murmured, uncharacteristically obstinate. “I don’t care if the bears come back.”