Free The Hills of Home (The Song of the Ash Tree Book 2) by T L Greylock

with the same rider.”
    The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the world in twilight. Raef took a deep breath. “What now?”
    “You have risked enough this day. It is time we had a feast under the stars. There are many who wish to meet you and there is much to talk about.”

    The feast was held on an island in the middle of a shallow lake north of the painted hills. Sleek, narrow boats took them across the water, poled by silent, hooded alfar in dark clothing. Torches burned bright and fiery reflections danced in the water alongside the stars. There was laughter and music and all of it carried over the water.
    “Do you not fear attack?” Raef asked Finnoul as they stepped from the boat onto the island.
    Finnoul pointed to the night sky. Raef saw nothing at first, then spotted several winged silhouettes. “We are more protected than you know. But more than that, we are far removed from the lands my people know best. The core of our homeland is to the west, the forest you saw when Aerath took you to the Guardians. I have known some of my people who seldom venture beyond those trees. We are well away from them, isolated, and they do not know where to look.” Finnoul accepted a shell, wide and shallow and unlike any Raef had seen, and handed it to him. The liquid within caught the moonlight as Raef brought the shell to his lips. It had a strange but not unpleasant taste, and it tingled on Raef’s tongue.
    “Lorcan. Does he search for you?”
    “He does. He is determined to prove that we hide out in the fells of the north.” Finnoul seemed pleased with this fact.
    “Something tells me you have helped him reach this conclusion.”
    Finnoul grinned and took a shell for herself. She held it out and the grin vanished. “To victory.” Raef touched his shell to Finnoul’s and downed the contents, but it was not victory that occupied his thoughts. In his mind he drank to home and a summer’s eve in Vannheim.
    The food was plentiful, the drink even more so, and the faces around him were bright and joyful, but as the night went on, Raef realized he did not feel as cheerful as he should have. Finnoul’s people were kind and polite, but their eyes remained distant when Raef was near. Finnoul was swallowed up in the crowd and Raef found he was content to remain on the fringe. He was an outsider, and even Finnoul’s friendship and trust would not change that.
    Raef slipped away to the water’s edge, the noise of the feast fading as his mind traveled far across the nine worlds to Midgard. He thought of Vakre, Siv, and Eira, and wondered where they were and if they believed him to be dead.
    It was there that Finnoul found him much later. The island had grown quiet and many of the torches had burned out. Raef had watched the boats traverse back to the mainland, quiet shadows walking on water. With their departure, the shadows in the sky also disappeared and it seemed to Raef the stars were now vulnerable and exposed.
    Finnoul appeared next to Raef and sat on the cool grass beside him. She said nothing.
    “I have been a poor guest,” Raef said. “Forgive me.”
    “There is nothing to forgive. It is my fault. My people did not welcome you as I had hoped.”
    “They were kind.”
    “Kindness is not enough. But it is not in our nature to embrace strangers.”
    “Would you have embraced me if you had never seen the carvings in your mountain home? If you did not think I, a Midgardian, was brought here for some purpose?”
    Finnoul did not shirk from Raef’s gaze. “No. I will not lie to you, Raef.” Finnoul plucked a stone from the shore and tossed it into the water. The ripples spread and sent plumes of green and blue across the water. Raef looked to the sky and saw it blossom with color that seemed to move and flow like the lake below.
    “What is that?”
    “You do not have this in Midgard?”
    Raef shook his head and stared in wonder.
    “It is the aurora.”
    Raef watched the green and blue play across the