Dragoncrest Cliffs idyll

For the second time in as many days, Druid felt like someone had kicked her in the stomach. There was a moment, thankfully brief, where she wondered if “gone” was just a gentler way of saying Mireille was dead. But the bearer of bad news—who almost certainly must be one of her friend’s two mothers—inferred that Mireille was missing following a storm.

When the woman asked for her help, Druid couldn’t speak. She nodded jerkily. Of course she wanted to help. She loved Mireille like a sister. And the thought of losing her—truly losing her, not just seeing her follow her own path, like Heda—made it feel as though all the air had disappeared from the world.