I’d never heard of a tiernan being pregnant before. I had no idea what it even entailed. I mean, I knew that tiernan reproduced (obviously), I just had never heard about the process. I had so many questions, but I didn’t think that Min wanted to answer any of them.

“Wake can’t leave the river at all?” I clarified.

“Correct.”

“Why does Budding have to stay with her?”

The hoak took a deep breath, seeming distressed. “She’s trying to keep the area safe. At first, she was enriching the magic of the area and deterring any creatures with ill intentions. Now she’s having to set up wards to keep humans away.”

I stepped around a cluster of bramble in my path, finding an easier way up the slope. “This all sounds complicated,” I said, shaking my head.

“Of course, it is,” Min snorted. “The mountain has been a mess for the past few years.”

I pressed my lips together. “Can you explain it to me?”

He gave a heavy sigh. “Well, it’s a long story. It goes back from before your village even existed.”

I gestured to our surroundings. “We have time.”

“Very well,” he grumbled, clearing his throat. “I was never meant to be a history teacher, though.”

“How old are you, anyway?” I teased.

He glared at me but didn’t answer the question.

“Many generations ago,” he began, “humans lived in harmony with other beings. They had their own forms of magic and they were connected to their own source.”

My eyes widened. “Really?”

The hoak nodded. “This was during the early years of humankind. However, it began to change over time.”

“What happened?”

His expression scrunched thoughtfully. “I’m not sure of the details. I just know that humans forsook their original source in favor of new oaths. They began taking resources instead of nurturing growth. They started to persecute and oppress those around them.”

The ground in front of us was becoming more rugged. The moonlit shadows played tricks on my eyes, causing me to hesitate as I came to a ditch. I slowly lowered myself to the ground, crawling across the leafy trench with care. “Why would they do that?”

“This happened throughout generations,” Min explained. “Human lives are short, so they didn’t realize how much they had been changing.”

“Hmph,” I grunted, dissatisfied.

It was frustrating to think of what could be lost between parents and their children. Even something as simple as the teachings of love for the earth or respect for other creatures—look at the consequences such things have brought.

“Unfortunately,” he went on, “the rest of us remembered the broken vows and lost friendships.”

I brushed the dirt from my skirt as I stood. “There must have been hard feelings.”

Mineral inclined his head. “Some more than others. Kags were once close to humans, so the loss of friendship is hard for them. Hoaks, on the other hand, are only bothered when humans take resources that don’t belong to them. Fae don’t really care either way.”

“What about tiernan?” I asked.

“Tiernan are very particular about oaths, so that’s an issue for them,” he replied.

I pursed my lips. “I see.”

“There were those who simply moved away from human settlements—you see that even now. Many magical beings will avoid humans instead of confronting them. Others…”

“…want to fight them,” I finished for him.

“Yes,” he agreed glumly.

We reached a ridge that didn’t have a clear path around. Min appeared at the top before I had time to wonder how he could climb it. With a small shrug, I grasped the nearest handholds and started to hoist myself up. My skirt made the ordeal cumbersome, but I rolled on the top with a grin of victory.

“Why don’t we pause for a break?” Min suggested.

I agreed reluctantly, still annoyed that my stamina was so reduced. I pulled the waterskin from my back, taking a long drink. “How much farther?”

“Not far,” he soothed, patting my arm.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes briefly. “So,” I continued after a moment, “the tiernan want to confront the humans.”

“Some of them,” Min acknowledged. “As I said before, it’s difficult for tiernan to move away from their original source. For many, they cannot survive the change. Being forced to separate leads to their death.”

I hadn’t realized the consequences were so severe. I wasn’t sure what I’d thought happened. 

When I considered the empty forest where I grew up, I suddenly felt foolish. Of course, it was full of wildlife—deer, squirrels, doves, bees, and the like. However, one wouldn’t find tiernan or hoaks or fae among those woods. I’d never thought that odd. I’d never questioned why.

Surely, there must have been plenty of magical creatures at some point. After all, there were at least three focal points that Budding had shown me. With rich sources of magic, how could it not be a gathering place?

So, where had they gone?

“Oh,” I said softly.

“Long ago, there were many tiernan living in the three valleys,” Min pointed back in the direction of the village. “They were forced to leave when the humans settled there. There were also tiernan who lived in the forest where you grew up, but the human influence expanded until they couldn’t stay either.”

My head drooped sadly. I knew everything he was saying was true.

Where could they have gone if they couldn’t leave their source? What could they do if they couldn’t adapt?

If their trees were cut down and their rivers diverted and their stones quarried, what could the nature spirits do?

“It isn’t just the tiernan that have been harmed,” Min’s voice was growing rough with anger. “Hardly anything is left in the valley and the forest. This mountain used to be the last refuge in the area.”

“I understand,” I murmured.

“Why can’t they be satisfied with what they have?” he demanded. “Even we aren’t safe anymore. The local lord has been sending workers up the mountain over the past few years to take what we have here.”

I frowned. “Is that why the tiernan are talking about war?”

Min hit his rock-like fists together. “They have plenty of their own resources, but they must take our trees and water. They kill our animals, mine our ore, hunt for magical beings, and taint our sources. It’s no wonder the tiernan grow tired of keeping the peace!”

My brow furrowed. “What does Budding think about this?”

He sighed. “She thinks that conflict won’t resolve anything, but she won’t go out of her way to protect the humans either.”

“There are tiernan trying to protect humans?” I asked, incredulous.

Min barked a laugh. “Can you believe it?”

I tugged on the end of my braid, as I tended to do when I was confused. “Why would they do that?”

He got to his feet, urging me to follow. Apparently, our break was over. “Some magical beings persist in viewing humans as lost children, the fools.”

We continued on our way up the slope. I could tell that we were heading toward water, but it was still at a distance. It was a relief to me that I could use those old instincts, even though the rest of my magic had been affected by the poison in my body.

A sudden wind passed through the trees, filling my limbs with a chill. I shivered violently despite my layers of clothing. It seemed colder than it should be for the time of year, even with being at a higher elevation.

I wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing and patting my torso to encourage blood flow. I didn’t remember being so bothered by the change of seasons when I was younger, and I wondered if it had something to do with the green pellets I’d been taking.

I shook away the thoughts. It didn’t matter. What was past was past. Min and Budding would help get the poison out of my body, and that was what was important now.

I held on to the trees that I passed, using them as supports. Their strength was comforting to me in the darkness, like old friends. The path we followed looked to be a deer trail, but it was easy enough to follow.

I was still trying to get a full grasp of the situation on the mountain, so I continued to press Min for information.

“So, the main conflict between the two groups of tiernan is that one side wants to fight humans and the other side wants to protect them?”

“Correct,” he responded.

“Last time I was here Wake said that the tiernan weren’t fighting each other, though,” I added.

The hoak hummed softly. “Well, they weren’t then. Things have become heated recently…”

“They are fighting?” I gasped.

Min hopped onto a boulder, bringing himself to my eye level. “Most tiernan think themselves above such things personally, but that doesn’t stop them from encouraging others to do it on their behalf.”

My jaw dropped. “That seems cowardly.”

He shrugged. “It all stems from the fact that most of them don’t have a wide range of mobility. There are many things that tiernan prefer not to do themselves. Why do you think that they have such a long history with hoaks?”

Honestly, I’d never considered it before.

“But this is why it’s so dangerous to have the soldiers on the mountain,” Min went on.

My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Humans are easy to manipulate into violence,” he pointed out.

I couldn’t argue the point, even if I’d been inclined.

“What a mess,” I muttered.

Min snorted. “Exactly.”

We came across a small stream, but it was barely a trickle that time of year. Water flow would continue to drop until spring when snow began to melt. Still, it was enough for us to follow as we wound our way up the mountain toward the larger waterways.

I was picking my way through a patch of pebbles when I heard a voice shouting from afar. I froze in my tracks, staring wide-eyed at Min.

“To the brush,” he hissed.

We ducked to the nearest cover, moving as quietly as we could manage.

I knew that Min could make himself invisible, but there was only so much that I could do about my yellow skin. Even wearing dark clothes, I wouldn’t be able to hide the vivid tones of my face in the moonlight.

I hid my head in my arms, curling up into a ball underneath the branches of the bramble. The voices grew closer, along with the heavy steps of boots.

“How much farther are we going tonight, sir?”

“As far as I say, third,” snapped a response.

The soldiers sounded terse.

“The firsts are cold and tired,” the original soldier continued. “We should stop and build a fire.”

“Unless you want to be demoted to second, you better shut your mouth.”

They marched past us. I waited until the sound of their passing had long faded before I dared to move.

“Min?” I whispered.

“I’m here,” he reassured me, appearing at my side. His rough hand patted my hair as he gave me a chiseled smile. “Let’s hurry on before we see more of them.”

We started walking again, trying not to make too much noise.

“What are the soldiers doing?” I asked. “I mean, I know that the Smitta sent them to fight magic users but…what does that mean?”

“At the very beginning they were just stomping around, making a ruckus,” he said derisively. “That was before the tiernan got involved, though.”

I flinched at the thought.

“Most creatures can hide well enough, but that’s only if they don’t get betrayed,” Min went on. “If a magical being is exposed in front of human soldiers, it’s difficult for them to escape with their lives.”

I tripped over some uneven ground, unable to catch myself in my distraction. I landed on my knees, unbothered by the brief pain. “They wouldn’t do that to each other,” I protested.

“Perhaps they wouldn’t do that to another of their own kind,” Min said, making a valiant attempt to help me to my feet, “but they are less concerned about other races.”

“So, you’re saying that a tiernan probably wouldn’t betray another tiernan, but they wouldn’t care about betraying, say, a kag?” I demanded.

He shrugged. “That’s the way of it.”

“What if a tiernan sends their hoak to betray a kag, who is helping another tiernan?” I inquired.

His expression was grim. “Something like that has definitely happened from time to time.”

My mouth worked for a moment before words formed. “How is that better?”

“It’s not,” Min admitted, “but they tell themselves that it is.”

“This…how…I can’t…” I sputtered.

“I know,” he sighed. “Budding and I feel the same way.”

“Aren’t you lot supposed to be better than humans?” I accused.

He lifted his hands. “Every social group has its flaws, unfortunately.”

“Unbelievable,” I said under my breath.

We trudged on in silence for several minutes. I contemplated his words, scowling at the ground in front of me.

It had been easy for me to assume that the tiernan world was so much better than the human world. After all, my experience with humans had never been pleasant. I wanted to think that there was something better beyond the village—something untainted.

It was difficult to acknowledge that my childhood beliefs had been wrong. I had thought all tiernan to be like Wake and Budding, but there were also ones that used soldiers to kill their enemies.

That wasn’t to say that I felt any better about the human community. I still felt that I didn’t belong. However, the idealism I’d placed over the tiernan had fallen away. I now understood that there was much for me to learn if I planned to ever live among them.

Min left me to my thoughts. He seemed to sense that I was troubled by what I’d learned. The sound of our breathing was the only noise that we made as we stole through the night.

I stopped trying to keep track of time as we hiked. It made me wonder if I would’ve been faster when I was younger, and that wasn’t helpful to my mental state. Instead, I focused on seeing if there were any landmarks that I recognized from my last visit. (Which, there weren’t.)

“There,” Min finally said, pointing through the trees.

I could hear the river, even at a distance. It was difficult to see, though, as it appeared to be surrounded by high banks.

Mineral hurried ahead of me, eager to return to Budding’s side. I followed at a slower pace, suddenly feeling shy.

A figure appeared with a flash of green light. She was in an animal form, but she shifted into a human. I wasn’t sure how she would greet me, so I continued to hesitate. 

Her warm brown eyes fixed on mine, narrowing as a wide smile spread across her face. All of my reservations fell away as she rushed forward to engulf me in a tight embrace.

“Budding,” I sobbed, hugging her back with all of my strength.

Her expression immediately changed as she leaned back to take a good look at me. Her forehead creased and she cupped my face in her hands. “My sweet little sapling, what’s happened to you?” she asked anxiously.

Mineral began shouting in a language I couldn’t understand, pointing back in the direction we’d come. Apparently, his rage couldn’t be contained by human words.

Budding shushed him. “No, you can’t dismember anyone. We’ll discuss what to do later.”

The hoak stopped yelling, but the flow of his words didn’t stop. I smiled as I buried my face in Budding’s shoulder, reveling in the sensation of her smoothing my hair.

She cradled me like a child, humming a gentle tune. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I will keep you safe.”