Brightly Woven

rain began once again, and with it thunder that seemed to make the walls of the building quiver. Owain returned to his bed, and I sat back down infront of the loom. I couldn’t clear my thoughts, and my throat knotted itself as I looked at the outline of North’s hunched shoulders.
    The mirror on the far side of the room tumbled to the ground, sending a spray of glass onto the floor.
    “Wretched thing,” Owain said, standing to clean up the mess. “An unlucky sign, that is.”
    North remained exactly where he was. The feeling of disquiet that washed over me was as cold as the rain had been; its sting didn’t ease until I disassembled the loom.
    Owain and I had just climbed into our respective bedding when North finally spoke. It was only two soft words, but it didn’t matter whom they were meant for.
    “I’m sorry.”
    I bit my lip, wondering what I could possibly say. I couldn’t even look at him.
    Owain waved him off, turning over on the floor. “Go to sleep, lad.”
    And wake up your old self , I added to myself. Please .
    “In a moment,” he said, though he finally sat down on his own bedding. “I’m not tired.”
    Of course not. I twisted my blanket between my hands. He tried to hide it, telling me it was water or mead or some kind of ale, but I could always smell the honey and lavender on his clothes and breath. I realized I hadn’t smelled it for some time.
    I wasn’t sure when I drifted off, but later that night I awoketo a fantastic show of lights, burning beneath my heavy eyelids. Even after I opened my eyes, the vision persisted. All around me, a thousand threads of light wrapped around my body and fed into the ground. Red, blue, yellow, green…a pulsing rainbow that began at my heart and seemed to be sewn into every bit of my skin. It was a dream I hadn’t had since I was a very young girl.
    It would have been frightening had there not been the heavy shadow hovering just at the edge and the sweet sense of calm he brought.
    “North?” I asked.
    A hand, finally free of its glove, came to rest on my forehead. It trailed gently down my face and softly over my eyes until they were once again closed, then over my nose and my parted lips.
    “You’re dreaming, Syd,” he whispered next to my ear.
    Of course I was.

    “Sod it all !”
    I dropped my washcloth on the floor, ducking my head back into the room. Owain was stumbling, half awake, to where North stood, letter in hand. I hadn’t seen Mrs. Pemberly bring it to him.
    “What—?” I began.
    “We’re under attack by what appears to be a wolf,” he readaloud. “It howls all night. The children think it’s some kind of demon. The crops have been torn up, and not by the hands of an ordinary man. One child claimed that the wolf climbed into her window, and it was made of light.”
    “What does that mean?” I asked.
    “It means we’re leaving right now,” North said. “For Arcadia. It’s north of here, in the mountains. Two days of traveling, maybe more.”
    “What in the world is in Arcadia?” I asked. It was no place I had ever heard of, but Owain and North continued their conversation without me.
    “I’ll come with you,” Owain said. “You’ll need support if it’s as bad as it sounds.”
    “No, if Syd and I are delayed for long, we won’t make the treaty deadline,” North said. “I think you should ride ahead to Provincia and try to get an audience with the Sorceress Imperial or even Oliver.”
    “And tell them what? That you’ve gone and gotten yourself killed?” Owain said.
    North snorted. “I doubt they’ll care about that. Tell them that I’m going after a rogue wizard.”
    “Who?” I repeated. “Dorwan?”
    “Who else?” North dragged a hand through his matted hair. “I knew he had been too quiet; I knew he would bait me—but not Arcadia, never Arcadia.”
    “What’s in Arcadia?” I asked again.
    “A lot of innocent kids,” he said.
    I asked, “What if we don’t take the bait?”
    North shook his head. “If you think for one moment that Dorwan wouldn’t hesitate to kill a child, then you’ve clearly overestimated his humanity. He’s not bound by anything—by wizard law, by the ways of the hedges. He does what amuses him, and we’ve become his latest game.”
    “Why waste the days of travel?” I said. “If we don’t go to him, won’t he have to come to us?”
    “I won’t let him hurt one of the kids,” he said. “If I don’t help them, no one will.”

    Within minutes,