Page 48 of Keeper of the Word (The Unsung and the Wolf Duology #2)

Chapter

Forty-Three

TOLVAR

H e sat in a white room. The walls had been whitewashed, the wooden floor, too. A singular window admitted a beam of sunlight. Tolvar couldn’t deduce what was on the outside.

He felt no pain.

There was no mark on his shoulder or thigh. His head didn’t throb.

The pain will return. When you awake.

“Sloane?” Tolvar’s eyes watered.

On the opposite side of the room, in a chair that appeared to be made of holly—’twas white as well—sat the small personage of Sloane. His Sloane. Her dark hair was plaited as it’d always been, and her enormous dark eyes twinkled.

To behold her caused him to ache.

He dared not speak, frightened that if he did, she would disappear. She, too, focused on him as if she yearned to memorize his features.

You need not study me so. I know you have me memorized. I, too, carry your memory. She softly brought her hand to her chest. Here. I wait for you .

“Am I dead?”

She shook her head. You are in quite a mess, however. Do you e’er wonder if you should have stayed? With her. You gave your word.

“King Rian sent me here.” Tolvar unknit his eyebrows. Even if this was a dream, he did not want to spoil it by glowering at Sloane.

Did you not volunteer? Under the guise of aiding your sovereign so that you could track down your brother? Is it not time to stop seeking revenge?

“Not all of us are as forgiving as you, Sloane. What Joah did to you…I still cannot wrap my mind around.”

’Twas my forgiveness to give. You needn’t worry about Joah. I forgave him that day.

A single teardrop streamed down Tolvar’s cheek. That day.

“What would you have me do?”

You are the keeper of the word. You cannot stray again.

“The StarSeers have used that phrase, but no one will tell me what it means.”

But in your heart, you know ’tis important.

Or we would not be having this conversation.

And the time is close. There has been a ripple in the stars, and the moon goddesses weep.

You need to make haste in your return to Asalle.

Someone needs to do something. She gave a half-smile at that remark. And that someone is you, Tolvar.

A gaze lingered between them.

I shall be waiting.

She stretched out her arm but couldn’t reach. He, too, stretched out his arm. The space divided them. Sloane gave him one last glance.

Tolvar opened his eyes.

And his body screamed in pain.