Chapter 21
Cale’s Bones
An hour later, alarm bells began to peal through the bowels of the mine. The commotion drew the guards from the main entrance, and just as Cale had said, he, Hamal, and the rest of the team walked out of the mine without anyone stopping them. No one was there to see them leave.
Hamal nodded to himself as they climbed up a short, jagged bluff overlooking the mine entrance and disappeared from view over the top. Cale could come up with very good plans, couldn’t he? He could be quite wise indeed.
Traveling on foot around the bay took three hours, and once they were safe on the other side, they paused beside an old, leaning pine tree and looked across the water at the entrance to the mine.
The mine’s black maw looked rather frightening in the late afternoon light. As Hamal shivered, he thought about the e’nethaine and wondered if they were still being watched. He would never be able to count heartbeats out here, in all this freezing wind. As if sensing the problem, Lord Rhyan stepped closer to him, and the wind instantly felt less severe. Hamal smiled at the flamemaker in gratitude.
But then Cale also stepped closer. He exchanged a look with Rhyan, who nodded once and moved away. The wind grew bitter once more.
“Hamal,” Cale said quietly, “I saw you do something today that surprised me.”
Hamal knew how he felt. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw a glowing emerald gaze. “Full-blooded e’nethaine are a marvel. They are as unique a people as anyone could find anywhere on the earth, and I am always sad when they go away. I don’t know why.”
Cale was quiet a moment. Then he said, “That is not what I meant.”
“What did you mean then?”
“You saw that I was considering confronting Ephram’s men with force, and you stopped me.”
Oh. Hamal remembered that moment outside Darren Ephram’s underground office. He suspected Cale was about to do something rash, and Hamal didn’t want Satha to get mad. He hadn’t realized Cale was aware of his thoughts, though Hamal had been quite aware of Cale’s thoughts.
“I know what wisdom thinks,” Cale said quietly. Hamal had to lean toward him to catch the words as the wind tried to blow them away. “And yes. Yes, I agree with you. I have been somewhat careless as of late, perhaps even foolish.” Cale wasn’t looking at him but staring across the bay at the mine. “I feel like…like I am not myself. And now that Satha and I are going to have a child, I can see the benefits of healing what my bones are saying, as you put it. But I do not know how to do this.”
“I know what you need.”
Cale glanced at him.
Nodding, Hamal shivered again and wrapped his arms more tightly around his body. “I cannot heal what your bones say, but I do know what you need. What happened to you and your friend the prince was terrible. You were in charge of protecting him, and the enemy overwhelmed your team, and the prince died. A horrible situation. Of course it marks your bones.” He gave those words a moment of silence. “But I think…”
Hamal took a moment to pull his scarf up. “I think there is something more important than blaming yourself for what happened.”
“It is my fault,” Cale said in a voice Hamal had not heard him use before. “I should have seen it before it happened. The blame can lie only with me.”
“But, Cale…” Hamal said gently. “There is something more important than that. You are my closest friend, and if something bad happened to us, I would want you to live. Nothing would make me happier than knowing you were alive—that you made it. I would be sad if I knew you felt angry about it and blamed yourself for what happened. I would tell you to be happy instead, because I was happy. The prince would want you to be happy, Cale. He would want you to live and to go out and do all the things you talked about doing. Friendship is more important than death and guilt. You have been concerned with something that is less important, and it is hurting you. I think your bones would feel better if you decided to be concerned about the more important thing.”
Several minutes passed without a response.
Hamal was freezing, but nobody moved away from the water. They stayed and watched the sunset lengthen the shadows over the bay. The alarm eventually stopped and even the wind seemed to quiet.
“Hamal,” Cale said, his voice low and difficult to hear over the wind.
“Yes, Cale?”
The seer was staring at the rocks. His head lowered, and he didn’t meet Hamal’s gaze. “I believe you.”
Hamal smiled behind his scarves. “Good.”
By the time they arrived back at the inn, the sky was beginning to fill with stars. They ordered meals sent up to their rooms, plus plenty of hot tea, and Hamal went to check on Rosy. He had thought about her several times during their adventure, especially her eyes. Her eyes sometimes shone in the dark too, just like the e’enthaine boy’s.
It is a curious thing, he thought. He had come a long way without seeing eyes that glowed in the dark, and now he had found them twice over, in a fairly short time.
Rosy was asleep in her bed, her bear hat on her head, her thumb in her mouth, her body curled up as tightly as possible. The little gray kitten slept next to her elbow.
Chestirad was happy to see him. He pointed at the small lump curled up in the bed and said, “This was not a pleasant child today. She sat in the corner and wouldn’t leave it, and she wouldn’t eat a thing. Even Gild couldn’t get her to eat. She didn’t want anything to do with your grandfather either. She put herself to bed about two hours ago, and she hasn’t moved since.”
Rosy wasn’t a difficult child. Something must be bothering her. Hamal pulled off his hats and gloves and scarfs and hung his coat on the hook by the door. Then he went over to the bed and sat on the mattress, putting his hand on Rosy’s shoulder. “Rosy, wake up. It’s almost time for supper. Are you hungry?”
The child opened her eyes. Dark eyes, he saw, ones without fire. Those eyes flew open as the sleep left her, and all at once, her thin arms were around his neck, and she was squeezing so tightly he had trouble drawing breath. He held her close and gave her a few minutes, thinking she just needed some comfort, but her grip didn’t loosen and she didn’t let go.
“What’s the matter, Rosy? What is wrong?” He didn’t expect an answer—she had never spoken to him, not a single time.
But then she did answer. She actually spoke to him, but her face was pressed into his neck and he couldn’t understand her. He had to coax her away, holding her so he could see her face.
“What was that, Rosy? Tell me again.”
There were tears in her eyes. She sniffled. “You came back.”
He loved her voice. It was small, like she was, and just as beautiful. He smiled. “Of course I came back. I told you I would. I will always come back, Rosy.”
For the rest of the evening, she cuddled next to him. She ate the food off his plate and refused to sleep in her own bed; she wanted to sleep beside him in his bed. Soon she was snoring, her mouth wide open and her arms spread wide across the mattress.
At some point in the night, Hamal came awake. He lay there in the firelight and listened to Rosy’s bear-snores and wondered what had awakened him. It couldn’t be her snoring; he was used to that by now.
Eventually in his sleepy state, he realized what it was, and with the realization, his mind cleared and he came fully awake.
Rosy’s blood was speaking to him. Happily, it shared with him that she had three siblings, all of whom were older than she by several years. But something bad had happened, and they were far away now. She didn’t know where. Hamal also learned that when Rosy was a little girl, her grandmother would give her cookies and make her soup. Her grandmother loved her very much and promised that someday, life would be easier.
And finally, her blood told him she didn’t feel alone anymore, because she had an uncle who came back. He wouldn’t leave her at another inn. The last man to take care of her hadn’t done a very good job of it. That man left and never returned. But Uncle Hamal took care of her now, and Uncle Hamal came back.
This was more information than he had ever heard from a person’s blood, and he thought the reason for it was that she was so very happy to see him. Hamal rested his hand on her arm as she slept and decided he wasn’t going to leave her anywhere. He thought that might be difficult for them sometimes, because she was an oracle and he was just a healer. But he knew it was a good plan.
– H –
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Comment below or find us on Facebook. Copyright notice: © 2026 by Lauren Stinton. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or sapient plants is purely coincidental.
