The Unhappy Heart (Book 1 of The Wolfheart Trilogy)

23. Truth and Lies

"Yes, Priscilla?"

"Promise me, you will be careful of the people around you. The ones who you least expect can have a hidden motive, something that could harm you. Even the ones you trust the most." 

Andrea couldn't help but note the tragic tone in her voice. Priscilla was speaking from experience.

"I promise. But Priscilla, do you think I will come back? I don't know if I can even go home. Do you think I'll get that chance?"

"Things do not happen by chance, Wolfheart," murmured Priscilla, her eyes softening. Reaching out, she tucked Andrea's loose hair behind her ear. "I think you were chosen for the bravery that lives within you and for your heart that calls for adventure. I think you were chosen because you can reach out and touch the hearts of those around you." 

Her hand lingered, brushing gently across the scar on Andrea's cheek. For a moment, Andrea thought she saw a glimmer of tears in the older woman's eyes. 

"No," Priscilla continued. "Do not believe in chance, but rather in fate. For could it simply be chance, that you had eyes likened unto Erica, daughter of Ulric and wife of Weylin? No, little one. For you were called for this exact reason. It was because of who you are. A very special little girl." She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Andrea's forehead. "Farewell, Wolfheart. Farewell until we meet again." 

She turned and slipped away into the darkness, pulling her hood up as she went. Andrea stared after her. It was all very confusing. Descended from a child of the Isle of Sol. Who was Priscilla exactly? Who was she that she was powerful enough to foresee glimpses of the future? She didn't have time to dwell on this however, as Dagen returned, followed by a complaining Ronan and a weary Rodarn. Andrea could only pick up pieces about babysitting, for as she came towards them, Ronan changed the subject.

"I've enjoyed your company," he greeted Andrea, grinning mischievously "As well as one could, anyway. It's almost a shame though. You are so young."

Rodarn quickly dug his elbow into his younger twin's ribs. Andrea ignored the comment, as she was only too use to Ronan's remarks.

"Are we to leave now then?" she asked Dagen.

Dagen nodded solemnly. "Yes, we cannot afford to wait for the alphas any longer. It is of little importance anyway. Tonight, we end this."

* * * * *

The sun had just begun peeking over the horizon when Dagen and Andrea finally arrived at the city edge. They were forced to wait for several minutes at the gates as the watch keeper declared the curfew was yet to be lifted. Andrea and Dagen both glanced at each other wondering if they were the cause of this new curfew. When there sounded a loud clanging of bells, the watch keeper cheerfully opened the gates and ushered them in. He even kindly offered Andrea a piece of bread and cheese, telling her she was too thin and weary looking. Andrea had passed it to Dagen once they were out of sight, claiming she wasn't famished enough to eat a thick slice of cheese that looked like it had sat out a mite too long. Dagen, having lived in the woods for two years and having survived the harsh winters of Erlenia, knew better then to waste food, although Andrea noted he did not look like he particularly enjoyed it. He was too occupied with other thoughts, she believed. When they reached the palace gates, they stopped once more. As Dagen went to approach, Andrea remembered Priscilla's coming the previous night and grabbed him.

"I hope you know the call of the morning bird," said Andrea, with a thoughtful frown. "Because I don't."

"Of course, I know the call" snapped Dagen, looking almost insulted. "Even the smallest child knows it. It calls every night and before every storm. But what the hell does that have to do with anything?"