Grinsa shrugged, then nodded. “You may be right. But I still think you’re due for good fortune.”
“Perhaps I am.”
They stood and stepped out of the tent. A cool breeze touched Grinsa’s face and stirred the boy’s hair. Trin and Cresenne were nowhere to be seen, and Grinsa suggested that they walk through the marketplace and try to find them.
“You should go ahead,” Tavis said. “It’s time I was on my way back to Curgh.”
Grinsa nodded, surprised to feel his throat tightening.
“Tavis, I-”
Before he could finish, Tavis had rushed forward and wrapped the gleaner in a hard embrace.
“I love you, Grinsa,” he whispered. Then he pulled away quickly and started striding back toward Audun’s Castle. After a few steps he broke into a run, disappearing amid the crowds of people enjoying the Revel.
“And I love you,” the gleaner said softly.
Wiping a tear from his cheek, Grinsa walked into the marketplace. He soon found Cresenne and Bryntelle, but Trin wasn’t with them anymore.
“He’s haggling with a merchant over a Caerissan ring,” Cresenne explained. “He said to tell you that you should take good care of us and stay out of trouble.”
The gleaner grinned and kissed her. “Sound advice.”
“Where’s Tavis?”
“He’s gone back to the castle. I think he’s eager to be returning home.”
“So are we ready to go?”
Grinsa looked around the market and then gazed up at the castle walls looming in the distance. “I am if you are.” He took her hand and pressed it to his lips.
They led the mounts given to them by the king to the city’s east gate, intending to make their way to the port of Rennach. Bryntelle was chattering excitedly as Grinsa handed her up to Cresenne, her eyes wide, a toothless smile on her lovely face. He climbed onto his horse and they started riding to the east along the base of the Caerissan Steppe, toward Raven Falls.
“I think she’s even happier to be out of the castle than I am,” Cresenne said, gazing at their daughter, a bright smile on her lips.
“It seems so.”
“Are you all right?”
Grinsa smiled, as well. “Yes, fine.”
“Did Tavis’s Fating go well?”
“You know that I can’t answer that.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Not this again.”
Grinsa began to laugh.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
He leaned toward her and kissed her lightly on the lips. “No, I’m not.”
“Fine,” she said airily. “I did my share of gleanings, you know. I just won’t tell you about them. I’ll only speak of them to Bryntelle.”
Grinsa suppressed a smile. “That’s fair.”
They rode in silence for a few moments.
“What possible difference would it make if you were to tell me?”
The gleaner laughed again. “It was a good Fating,” he said at last. “Tavis is going to be just fine.” He looked at her. “Truly.”
Cresenne nodded, looking relieved as she faced forward again. “I’m glad,” she murmured.
He reached out a hand and she took it briefly, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze.
Grinsa knew that he had spoken true. Tavis would be fine, and so would Kezi. Even without him. For so long he had carried the world’s cares in his heart, its burdens on his shoulders. Relinquishing them had proven harder than he had expected. But riding eastward toward the sea and an unknown future, he at last felt that great weight lifting, floating free, leaving him feeling that he might rise off his mount and fly with the swifts and swallows darting overhead.
“Grinsa, what is it?”
He glanced at her, smiling, and shook his head. “It’s nothing. I just…” She was so lovely, as was the girl she held in her arms. His family. How long had he wished for this, fearing even to believe in the possibility? “I’m ready to go home.”
Cresenne frowned. “Home? What do you mean?”
“I’m not certain yet. But we’ll know it when we find it.” And this he also knew to be true, for he was a Weaver.