Page 84 of A Rising Hope (The Freckled Fate #3)

BONUS SCENE 2

FINNLEAH

A t first, we had considered sleeping under the stars, the warm sunset falsely giving us hope of a calm night. But now, with angry clouds growing on the horizon, the Ten rushed to set up the large rectangular tent. The yellow canvas provided perfect shelter away from the storm, nestled between the eleven young oak trees that we planted a few years back.

The first sprinkle of rain reached our skin with a sudden gust of wind.

“Pretty sure Ioanna’s eyepatch just flew off.” Ashe snickered as Ioanna swore, glancing around for her black satin patch.

“And I am pretty sure we are missing a pole,” Tori said, holding up the lid to the large trunk full of supplies.

“Make that two,” her sister added as she counted the long metal poles by her feet.

“Well, it’s either a half erected tent or the storm,” Motra answered, pushing Cass’s wheelchair closer to the trees to shield her from the wind.

“Or,” I called out, wiping my wet hands on my thighs as I closed my freshly filled flask, “We can do this.” I smiled as I reached for a small branch, breaking it and let my magic flow. The branch grew larger at my will, soon matching the size and strength of a tent pole.

“Neat trick,” Yanush chuckled, grabbing blankets out of the trunk.

“I forget she can do that sometimes,” Cori said, putting up the canvas walls.

“Gia would’ve been so proud.” Zora came up closer to me, a taut smile on her lips. She watched the Ten laugh and chat as they finished setting up the camp.

“She really would have been. She was the only one that knew how to set up that old thing on the first try.” Cass smiled from her chair.

The corners of my lips tugged upward as I thought of the times Gia directed us while setting up that tent. Always patient and encouraging.

The eleven oaks shuddered against the wind but stood tall, unbreakable.

The large droplets of rain grew bigger, no longer a light sprinkle.

“Just in time,” Ashe noted as all of us raced inside the tent accompanied by the thunder.

Cozied up on the sleeping pads and blankets, we talked, catching Gia up on everything she might have missed since the last year we visited the old island. Her pad and her blankets set up in the middle as we told her of our lives and of us. Of Svitar and of the world so rapidly changing.

And when we were out of new, we spoke of the old, reliving the memories that we would cherish forever, memories created by her kind smile and infectious laugh.

We'd laugh and we would cry, and we’d sit and listen to the silence, reminiscing of her. And in the morning, all ten of us would watch the sun rise on the horizon, waking up the world. The rays of the sunlight extinguishing the darkness wholly. The light would blind us but we’d stare, always remembering that no matter how dark the night could be, the sun would always rise.

And no matter how challenging life would be, we’d always find her waiting for us on the bright side.