Sam had thought for sure that Gretta and Father Pryce would have made Kaitlyn stay at the chapel, and allow Sam to go back to The Throne alone.

  “Healthy enough to kill my garden? Healthy enough to get out of my house,” Gretta had said. Sam had tried to bring up the miscarriage and Kaitlyn’s need to rest to Gretta but she refused to hear it. The woman knew how to hold a grudge.

  “She is from the Stone Circle tribe. Her people are renowned for their hardness. If she says she feels well enough to hurry along, I think we can trust her,” Father Pryce said calmly. And still Sam resisted the idea. He could not get the sight of the blood out of his mind.

  “Look Sam,” Father Pryce had added. “She will not yield. And she will not listen to us. She was willing to tear this building down to get her way. If she wants to leave, two old fools and green paladin are not going to stop her. You may as well make sure she stays safe.”

  And so the two set out. And they walked in silence for an entire day. Father Pryce was completely accurate, though. Nothing was stopping Kaitlyn. Sam had offered to stop, to take breaks, light a fire and warm, several times. When he finally talked her into stopping, Kaitlyn was restless and constantly looking out toward The Throne.

  “When do you want to stop for the night?” Sam asked her about an hour after the sun had set. She still pressed on through the woods.

  “Oh,” Kaitlyn looked back to him, looking exhausted. Dark circles hung under her eyes, and she looked very pale. But her eyes were awake and focused. “I was planning on still moving. We can catch up to them if we keep our stops to as few as possible.”

  “You just wanted to hike for three straight days? After what you’ve been through?”

  Kaitlyn suddenly looked annoyed. “What do you mean, Corporal?” There was silence for a moment, and then Kaitlyn turned back and continued walking.

  “It’s,” Sam thought hard about his next words. “It’s been a long day, Kaitlyn. Besides, won’t your magic be stronger after you rest?”

  “Well, the magic will not be much of a help right now.”

  “Why not?”

  Kaitlyn stopped and spun on the spot. “Because, Paladin! I am a little too emotional right now to keep proper control of the elements! Would you like to see what that means for you?”

  Kaitlyn really hoped he would not call her bluff. She could feel the elements gathering around her. The planet noticed her pain and was eager to do whatever it could to help ease it. But even Kaitlyn knew it was too much. She gnawed on her tongue, partitioning herself from the world around her, cutting off her emotional connection to the spirits that were always there to support her, whatever the result. This would be something to solve once Matthew was stopped.

  Sam said nothing. He looked at her, his face completely unchanged by her show of force. In his head, Sam was considering the risk of further pushing the subject. To be honest, though, being weak would not help anyone.

  “Nothing you did not show off already in the chapel,” he said nonchalantly. “But Gretta has already touched base with the druids at The Throne. They will be ready for this Matthew man if he beats us there, but I am exhausted, and I am sure you are, too. So I really think it would be best if we just rested for the night.”

  Kaitlyn’s breath caught. Her idiot husband and his stupid friends were scrambling toward their own deaths at the hands of the Church of the Will. But nothing was going to change this kid’s mind.

  “Why don’t you just stop and let me go?” she asked. “This is my fight.”

  “Because I am responsible for your safety at this moment.”

  “You don’t think I can protect myself?”

  “Well, considering I’m not under a pile of rocks right now, I’m not sure if you can.” Sam folded his arms and stared Kaitlyn down. “You nearly killed me back at the church without thinking twice. I doubt the few hours of silence did much to foster any warm feelings between us. But I’m still here. And since I doubt you’re unwilling to harm me, I have to assume you’re unable.”

  Kaitlyn wanted to scream, but even that could unstopper her power. “Fine. We’ll stop. Just… put up a fire or something.”

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  “That’s more like it,” Sam grumbled, pulling his pack off of his shoulder and moving to the side of the road.

  Sam and Kaitlyn built a fire on only one log. Kaitlyn was surprisingly helpful for not wanting to stop. Still, she was speaking as little as possible. Sam asked her to hand him things or help him with something. She would mutter wordlessly to make clear she understood, but then go right back to silence.

  Once the fire was set, Sam projected a small, bubble-like barrier to insulate their warmth as the late-winter cold set in.

  “You’re not too cold, are you?” Sam asked as he handed Kaitlyn a piece of the packaged meals Father Pryce had sent with them.

  “No,” was all she said.

  “Okay, good.” Sam looked at the ground and listened to the crackle of the small fire. “We will leave right away. Just need a few hours of sleep.”

  “Yep.”

  The quiet was becoming painful. There is no way Kaitlyn was handling this situation with the stoicism she is broadcasting. Sam remembered back to the days they spent learning emotional first aid in his confidant training.

  People came in all shapes and sizes. Some are more flexible than others. But Kaitlyn lost her friends, family, and her child in just a few hours.

  “Kaitlyn,” he finally muttered. “I’m very sorry about what happened. I want to help make it right.”

  The shaman did not respond. She just stared into the fire.

  “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “What is your favorite time of year?” Kaitlyn asked, not looking up.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Out of the four seasons, which one is your favorite? My grandmother always said that a person’s personality and gifts showed up in which time of year they thrive. I’m here with you on my way to… stop my husband. So I would like to know more.”

  “Oh. Well. Autumn probably?”

  “Hmm,” Kaitlyn said, looking Sam up and down from across the fire. “I don’t see it too much. Like I said, though. I don’t know you well. What do you like about autumn?”

  Sam thought hard about it, but he could not think of a good reason. Finally, he shrugged and said “the leaves, I suppose.”

  “You’re not certain enough. That can’t be your season.”

  “Well what do you think my season is?”

  “Well, you’re warm, hospitable, but harsh. By that I mean stubborn. You’re summer.”

  Sam thought for a moment. She had a point. He loved the time they got off school in the summer, after all. Spending the afternoons in the gardens with his sisters playing tag despite the heat, then being called to the patio by their mother with a tray of cool drinks for them. They were delightful memories that brought a reflexive smile to his face.

  “But they say that folks not sure about their season are not sure about themselves,” Kaitlyn added as she shifted on the extra bed roll that Sam thought to pack. “It’s clear that you have some sort of chip on your shoulder, and I think it has to do with that scar on your armor.”

  Sam was astounded. “What do you mean?”

  “You were so eager to make me your ‘responsibility’.” Kaitlyn gave the word air quotes with a hint of spite. “If I had to guess, you have something to prove. You want to do a good job.”

  Sam was speechless. Having his emotions pulled out like this was shockingly uncomfortable.

  “Suppose I’m right?” Kaitlyn asked as she rolled over, her back to Sam. “Grandma also taught me how to read people. I just wish it was as easy as this all the time.”

  “Did you only bring this up to try to deflect off of me checking on you?”

  “Good night, Corporal.”

  The dream came to Kaitlyn vividly. The most vivid dream, actually, she had had in years. She was standing on the edge of a cliff over a long, rolling plain. Thick clouds drooped overhead like curtains pinned to a ceiling, slinging shadows on the plain. The sun was setting ahead of her, fallen already behind the lumbering, mountainous silhouette of what could only be Kraag’s avatar.

  The warm breeze blowing on her face brought her whole body to ease. She took a deep breath. It smelled like rain. Kaitlyn was surprised, though, to find her hands full. She looked down and breathed deeply.

  In her left arm, an infant was swaddled in a brown shawl. It looked just like the shawl her grandmother would wear. The child was without any salient features, just completely generic looking. But she knew, in her heart, it was the child she lost. It slept gently, its tiny nostrils flaring in the breeze.

  Then she looked to the other hand, which was palm down. Her fingers were spread wide, and looking up at her between them were the bulging, fearful eyes of Matthew Carpenter. He was kneeling on the ground, Kaitlyn’s strength was what held him in place.

  Desperately, he began to lift his arm. A glistening metal armlet covered his entire forearm.

  “Let us be here for you,” a chorus of soft voices said. Kaitlyn looked out to the plains.

  “Why did you not warn me about him?” she asked the voices. The baby stirred in her arm.

  “Just as you did,” the voices began to respond. “We believed in him. We believed his love for you would beat his love for power.”

  “What will you do to him?”

  “Nothing. We will give you everything you need.”

  Kraag’s deep roar shook the cliffside. Kaitlyn smiled at the sleeping child, then looked back at Matthew. With little more than a thought, the stones rose up around him and pulled him beneath the earth.