A Court of Whispers and Song

Chapter 17

Gwyn stared at the ceiling all night, her fingers tugging on her lower lip as she watched the stone until the pebbled canopy morphed into the endless velvet of a navy sky. Cool dew chilled the heated skin on her back, having seeped straight through her robe. Her palms fell to her sides, the feel springy blades of meadow under her fingertips.

Wait...grass? Where was she?

Gwyn tilted her chin up, scanning around only to feel her hair brushing against soft hair the hue of raven wings. A female lay head-to-head beside her, her webbed fingers weaving as a delicate spider spindled a web. Only interwoven in those hands, the beginnings of an elegant headdress of...wildflowers.

A great gust cut across the wide field, sending the ambrosial scent of blossoms and warm sunshine. Leaves and high grasses rustled in a refrain she'd always remember. A southern breeze caressed over her skin like a tender touch, filling her head with reminders. Treasured recollections she locked away inside her chest.

Her forehead creased as she tried to recall the melody her mother hummed as she waded into the water of the cool lake, calling out for her daughters to join. She always swam farther than where their toes touched the muddy bottom.

This place. It was a place stitched into her heart like a quilt, each square piecing together in a grand tapestry of her fondest memories.

Webbed fingers and wildflowers. Clapped rhymes and giggles. The sweet essence of waterlilies and morning dew floating in the air. Gwyn knew who spread out beside her as easily as she knew herself. Her other half.

Her heart clenched.

"Cat-Catrin?" she asked, clearing the slumber from her swollen eyes, finding the back of her freckled hand damp.

"Hello, Gwyn," Catrin said, her voice reminding Gwyn of windchimes. Musical and light.

It was Catrin sitting beside her, whole and unmarred. No hint of the horrible gash across her throat. She looked... perfect.

Two years to the day, her sister appeared before Gwyn in a dream, pledging the gift of two nights of the year. On the day they came into the world together, one soul in two bodies. And the day one had departed, their souls cleaved apart by Hybern's blade.

Gwyn sealed her eyes shut tight enough to see a white flash behind her lids. How had she forgotten all about Catrin tonight?

Disturbingly intense hazel eyes promising violence came to mind, haunting her like a ghost, showing her the answer.

"Gwyneth." Her sister loosed a subdued sigh. She shifted a palm under Gwyn's head, nestling it snugly in the cushion of the gathered robes in Catrin's lap. Gwyn blinked as Catrin's webbed hand loosened the stuck copper strands from her face before cupping Gwyn's cheek. "I'm so proud of you, sister."

Gwyn's eyes flew wide open. "How can you even say that?"

Her twin shook her head, her onyx waves skimming over her shoulders. Catrin leaned over, planting a soft kiss on Gwyn's forehead.

"You got out. You're safe—you're moving on, Gwynnie. You're strong and resilient. And I know..." She paused, her dark brows knitting. "I know what arose earlier."

Gwyn's throat bobbed on a hard swallow. "Oh. Yes...Today was tough. Harder than expected," Gwyn confided, her lower lip quivering. Her eyes fluttered shut as her twin's hand eased over her hair and her burdens in slow caresses.

Catrin snorted and grumbled, "Males are fools."

A giggle burst out of Gwyn. "Cat!"

"What?" Cat's fingers stilled in Gwyn's reddish-bronze locks. " He yelled at you." She raised and dropped a shoulder. "As your sister, I'm allowed to offer an opinion. But that's not what I was referring to." A mischievous smile inched across her twin's face. "You kissed him."