The Rescue

The memory released, returning me to the clearing Thorn and I had been sitting in earlier.

I staggered back a few steps before one of my heels caught somewhere on the ground, and I fell backwards into the snow.

For a moment, I just sat there, cradling my head as I tried to process everything that I had just seen and heard. My ears rang from the shouting. The space between my shoulder blades still ached from the sound of Thorn’s claws striking the stone table, and all of me had gone tight at the sound of the stone bowls breaking against the wall and the floor.

I glanced back at Thorn.

He was still sitting on the ground, knees drawn up slightly with his arms resting over top of them.

I wanted to be furious at him, lay into him about how he had treated Raven and Shade. I wanted him to answer for everything he'd said in the memory. The excuses. The aggression. His wild, untethered rage.

As I continued to stare at him, however, I started to think that doing so might have been pointless.

The dark circles that surrounded his eyes seemed to have grown darker in the amount of time I had spent observing the memory. Whatever anger and pride he'd once held appeared to have been drained from him, leaving nothing behind but an air of shame that seemed to hang over him like a cloud. It made him look older than he actually was. More hollowed out, and something in me suspected that he had already been punishing himself for the role he had played in that argument since the moment he stormed out of the hut.

I pushed myself to my feet and settled myself next to him.

For several seconds, I couldn’t think of what I should say.

I let out a sigh.

“I didn't see any fishing equipment.”

Thorn paused before he lifted his head slightly and turned to me.

“ That's what you managed to take away from that?” he asked.

I gave a small shrug.

“Well, I know you said some things that really hurt Raven,” I pointed out. “And I was the one who had to deal with the consequences of that.”

Thorn lowered his gaze as he turned and faced forward again. A large white cloud formed in front of his face as he let out a heavy sigh.

“Raven and Shade have come home,” I continued after a few moments. “We have guests over for meals sometimes.”

Some of the shame that hung around Thorn lifted slightly. “Good.”

“I cleaned the hut,” I added. “The place holds heat better, now that the drafts in the walls have been fixed. I got rid of the old hides and traded for some new ones. There's plenty of firewood, a proper setup for cooking, and Bone was kind enough to replace the bowls.”

Thorn closed his eyes, looking even more relieved. “Good.”

I tapped my hands against my lap. “So about that cold fishing trip…”

His eyes opened again and he turned back to face me.

“That's the official story, anyway,” I told him. “You went out onto the lake to go cold fishing after the argument, but you said you went to the lake to think. Which is it?”

Thorn blinked. “Both are true.”

The scene surrounding us changed again. The Shifting Place set us at the edge of the lake that rested outside of the village. It wasn’t very large. Maybe a few hundred meters across at its widest point. Spruces and pines crowded around it, their dark needles heavy with snow. It looked isolated, but not unfamiliar. Exactly the sort of place someone might go when they wanted distance without being too far from home.

The memory showed Thorn approaching the lake, snow clinging to his legs up to his shins as his strides created a pair of deep lines that cut across the ground.

He stopped and knelt down beside a hollow tree trunk that rested in the brush and pulled out a spear he’d hidden within it. He inspected it briefly before he straightened himself and started towards the ice.

My brow furrowed as I began looking at it more closely. The surface of the ice was uneven and discolored, shifting from cloudy white to patches of dull gray where trapped water darkened it from below. It looked thin, wet, and tired. Nothing like the hard, seemingly solid blue sheet I had walked onto in Alaska.

Back when I was at home, the lake had hidden its weakness from me. This lake seemed to be warning anyone who approached it that it could give way.

“The ice isn't safe,” I said.

Beside me, Thorn turned and glanced at me.

“Did you know?” I asked, looking up at him. “That the ice wasn’t safe?”

Thorn gave a small shrug as he watched the memory of himself approach the lake.

“It held when I stepped onto it.”

I blinked then turned as the Thorn in the memory punched a hole into the ice.

Punched . With his hands.

“Well…” I said, clicking my tongue. “There’s one way to chop a hole, I guess.”

Thorn let out a soft snort as we continued to watch the ice.

“This next part is boring,” he stated as he adjusted himself. “We may as well get comfortable.”

Out on the ice, Thorn lifted his spear and readied his stance. Then he ceased moving altogether.

“You really did come out here just to go ice fishing,” I remarked, “But Raven told me you didn’t know how to fish.”

Thorn’s ears pulled back slightly as he turned away. “Didn’t seem hard.”

He turned his head back, planting an elbow against his knee as he leaned against his hand.

“I accompanied Raven many times when she would go fishing,” he continued, “She said that the water and the quiet helped her clear her mind whenever she felt troubled. After the fight, I knew I needed that. And if I could manage to catch a fish on my own, that’d be even better.”

“So you never intended to fall through the ice, then?”

Thorn’s face twisted with confusion as he turned to look at me. “No… Why would I intend that?”

I felt heat build inside of my beanie. “Well, some people have made assumptions…”

Thorn clicked his tongue as he let out an annoyed hiss. “Of course they did…”

I took a quick glance at the vision of Thorn positioned over the hole in the ice. He still hadn’t moved. He was right. This part really was boring.

“What did you think about while you were out here?” I asked.

“A lot of things,” Thorn replied. “The fight, mostly. The things Raven had said. The things that I had said. I tried to justify it, at first. Told myself that I was in the right and that everyone else had been wrong.”

I frowned. “But?”

Thorn was quiet for several seconds before he let out a sigh.

“I knew that I wasn’t,” he said, lowering his gaze, “Raven, Shade, Bone, Light, the village… I realized that I had let every one of them down. The more I thought, the more problems I found. Eventually, the volume of those problems seemed to reach higher than the mountain itself.”

That’s when he laid it all out for me.

He already knew that Shade was afraid of him. After their fight, he believed Raven wanted nothing more to do with him. He thought Bone’s trust in him had been broken beyond repair. He knew Rain despised him. And he believed that the only solution Light would offer would be to throw him out of the tribe completely.

In Thorn’s mind, every bridge that he had managed to build for himself after settling into the Tribe of the Mountain Forest had been burned. Every person he thought to reach for had pulled away, and he didn’t trust himself to have the patience to make it right again.

He realized that he had ruined his own life, and he had no idea how to go about fixing it.

“What about Watcher?” I asked. “He still cared about you, didn’t he? Sure seemed like it, when I spoke to him.”

Thorn let out a weak, humorless laugh.

“I fought him, as well,” he said quietly, “Told him that I wasn’t a cub anymore. That I didn’t need him. That he should just stop watching and leave me be.”

Something in me began to sink. “Did he?”

Thorn stared at me for a moment before he pointed to the vision of himself out on the ice.

“What do you think?”

The Shifting Place shifted again.

Time had clearly passed. The sun had moved lower into the sky.

Thorn now sat at the edge of the hole he had created. His spear rested across his lap. His shoulders were hunched over, his arms folded around his middle as he seemingly held himself. Even from where I sat on the shoreline, I could tell that he was overwhelmed.

He lowered his head and muttered something. I couldn't hear all of what he'd said, but I managed to catch part of it.

“... help care for Raven and Shade…”

Beside me, Thorn batted a hand against my shoulder, redirecting my attention before I could fully process what the Thorn in the memory was trying to say.

“Swift Legs,” he whispered, pointing up at one tree in particular.

My brow furrowed as I looked. “Swift Legs?”

I followed his finger and searched the branches for what he might have been referring to.

After about a minute, my eyes landed on the shape of a cougar perched on a branch in one of the pine trees overlooking the lake, almost completely invisible as it kept its body close to the trunk. Even at a distance, I could make out the ragged scar that cut through its face.

Rain.

He was already there, watching Thorn.

“This is where it gets interesting again,” Thorn stated.

Back out on the lake, Thorn had apparently decided that his unsuccessful cold fishing trip was over and it was time to head home, or wherever he’d planned on heading.

He stood and took a step away from the hole.

Crack–!

The sound echoed across the lake.

The vision of Thorn froze.

He took another step.

There was another crack. Then came a loud crashing sound and a shout as the ice collapsed from under him and he disappeared into the water. The spear rolled away over the ice.

Thorn didn’t resurface for several seconds.

When he did, he came up gasping and frantic. He immediately reached for the edge of the ice and attempted to push himself up. The ice broke again under his weight, submerging him under the freezing water.

He resurfaced and tried again, this time using his claws to grip the surface of the ice and pull himself forward. He managed to pull himself out up to his chest and reach for his spear before the ice gave out again.

The spear snapped into two. The end with the point remained on the ice while the other end disappeared below the water.

When Thorn came up again, he quickly reached for the remains of his spear, stabbing it into the ice as he desperately tried to drag himself out. He managed to pull his body halfway out of the water before the ice buckled again.

This time when Thorn resurfaced, the spearhead was gone from his hand. His movements became a lot slower as he dug his claws into the ice again, gasping and shuddering as the freezing water tore through him.

I could only stare, watching in horror as I counted the ways in which Thorn’s incident at the lake mirrored my own. The way the ice kept breaking with each attempt at escape. The way he used the spearhead like I’d used my safety spikes.

I looked up at Rain.

He was still sitting in the pine. Still staring at Thorn.

“Why isn’t Rain helping?” I asked, “I thought he pulled you out.”

Beside me, Thorn remained silent.

Out on the lake, Thorn had stopped moving. His eyes struggled to remain open. Any further attempts to pull himself out were weak and clumsy.

Then he made a sound.

Not a growl or a shout. He didn’t let out a cry or scream.

Instead, he let out a low, throaty croak.

I barely heard it, but it struck me as though he’d just begun pleading for his life.

Rain came tumbling down from the tree, landing rather unceremoniously in the snow.

Thorn let out another croak.

“What is that?” I asked, “That sound that you’re making.”

Beside me, Thorn’s face twisted as he glared at the vision of himself.

Suddenly, he stood up.

“Shut up, you cub-calling carrion eater!” he roared, “You don’t get to complain! You dismissed your Watcher! Drove everyone away!”

Thorn clenched his teeth as he drew in a deep breath.

“You have no one to blame except yourself!”

The Shifting Place seemed to tremble around us.

I stared up at Thorn for several seconds as he breathed heavily from the effort. The outburst only strengthened my earlier suspicions about him punishing himself for the things that he’d said and done.

My attention was pulled back towards the ice as I heard Rain shout Thorn’s name. He had shifted out of his animal form now and had begun moving carefully across the ice towards him.

I stood up from where I sat on the shoreline and made my way closer.

“Just hold on,” Rain called to him. “I’m coming!”

Thorn appeared to be barely conscious. He began to stir slightly as his eyes seemed to find Rain.

“No…” he growled weakly. “Stay back.”

Rain paused. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Ice…Not safe…”

“I know the ice isn’t safe! But we need to get you out!”

Rain reached out a hand. Thorn jerked himself back, nearly disappearing back under the water before Rain managed to grab one of his wrists.

Thorn’s head came to rest on the surface of the ice. His words started to become tangled as he tried to speak.

“Already hurt—” his breath caught in his throat. “You…”

Rain shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

Thorn’s eyes struggled to meet Rain’s. They settled on his scar.

“I’m sorry…”

His voice was barely a whisper.

Then his body went still.

“No, no, no!”

Rain’s voice rose into a shout that carried into the trees.

Using a level of strength I’d never seen from him before, he hauled Thorn out of the water and began dragging him across the ice.

Thorn no longer protested. He didn’t try to pull away. He no longer possessed the strength, if he was even conscious at all.

“Just stay with me!” Rain pleaded as he continued to move towards the shoreline. “The healer’s den isn’t that far. It will be warm there.”

I couldn’t help but catch the disturbed look that had plastered itself onto Rain’s face.

As soon as his hands touched the snow, Rain pulled Thorn’s body over his shoulder and pushed himself to his feet.

Then he ran through the trees back towards the village.

The memory released, placing us back into the clearing again.

For several seconds, I just stood there as I tried to process everything that I had just witnessed.

Thorn stared into the distance, his eyes seemingly still following Rain as he carried his body back to the healer’s den.

“I don’t get it,” I finally said. “Rain saw you fall in. He was there the whole time. Why did he wait?”

Thorn’s gaze lingered on where the memory had been for several seconds before he let out a sigh.

“Because he was afraid.”

I almost laughed at him.

Rain. The same person who was openly hostile towards me when I’d first woken up in the healer’s den. The one who had pushed Thorn’s body out of a tree and engaged in a footrace with it during his assessment of me at the training grounds. The Rain who had begun to fuss over me every time I’d decided to work when he recommended that I rest.

He had watched Thorn fall through the ice.

He’d watched him struggle.

Then he’d gone out onto the ice, but only after Thorn’s body had weakened substantially.

I could understand being afraid of Thorn, but understanding that fear didn’t make the time he had spent in that tree any easier to think about.

Beside me, Thorn remained quiet.

Eventually, I turned and looked at him.

“So, why me?” I asked.

His ears shifted towards me before he turned. “Why you?”

I nodded.

“Storm told me that you let me in,” I explained, “That you allowed me to take your place. That’s why I was able to cross over into the therian world in the first place. But why did you choose me?”

Thorn watched me without answering.

“I didn’t know you,” I continued, “I didn’t even know people like you existed. I was just some human from a completely different world. What did you think I could possibly offer?”

His eyes looked me over, occasionally flickering green as they did so.

Then he turned fully to face me.

“That’s going to require more than an explanation...”

Before I could ask what he meant, one of his hands reached out towards me.

“Brace yourself.”

That was the only warning that he gave me before his eyeshine exploded into a burst of blinding white light.

The clearing disappeared.

For a moment there was nothing.

Then I found myself back in the cabin.

And I was back in Thorn’s body.

This time, however, things were different. It felt less like I was inhabiting it now and more like I was a passenger in it. I could see what Thorn saw. I was aware of myself, but there was something else now, too.

I could hear Thorn’s thoughts alongside my own.

His attention moved over the room, confusion and curiosity replacing the fear and exhaustion that had been left over from the lake.

A hut. A strange one. But not bad.

He inspected Grandpa’s recliner. His hand passed through it when he tried to reach out for it.

A wave of shock passed through him.

Can’t touch anything. Great…

Unease began to prickle at him as he straightened. It felt the same as when he’d been let into the Tribe of the Mountain Forest. He had no idea where he was supposed to stand. What he was supposed to do. What he was supposed to be looking for.

A creak from a floorboard behind him made him wheel around, and he let out a vicious snarl.

It was me as I groggily stepped out of my bedroom and made my way towards the kitchen.

I felt Thorn’s curiosity return as he began to study me. His gaze lingered on my rounded ears, then moved to my hands as the vision of me tried to rub the sleep from my eyes. No claws. No fur. Nothing that helped him identify what sort of therian I was supposed to be.

Perhaps this wasn’t a therian at all.

Cautiously, he followed me, watching as I slipped into my boots and my coat. They were unusual, but they were something he could understand. They were like furs. Meant to protect against the elements.

Thorn watched me closely as he followed the vision of myself outside to the woodpile out back. He observed as I started gathering armfuls of snowy logs and carried them inside.

“The sun isn’t even up,” he said, his voice rattling me from within. “And you’re already working?”

I didn’t respond. Obviously. I hadn’t even known I was being watched to begin with.

Waking before sunrise, he understood. But working ?

He watched as I loaded the woodstove, then stacked the remaining logs beside it. When I sat down to warm my hands, his attention lingered on the metal door as the fire crackled somewhere behind it.

“You put the fire inside?” he asked. “Seems counterintuitive.”

He stepped away from me to explore the kitchen. He analyzed the countertops, the cupboards, and the sink. He didn’t understand all of what he saw, but had a suspicion.

Raven would love to live in a hut like this.

A pang of regret hit his chest.

His head whipped back around as Grandma shuffled in from the back of the cabin. He watched as I rose from my chair and let her sit in front of the stove. He noted her hunched posture and the careful way in which she walked. He could tell she was in pain.

His eyes moved over to me before he gave me an approving nod.

Thorn stayed close as Grandma and I settled down for breakfast. For a while, his gaze moved between us and the food on the table.

Then Grandma asked, “So… Any thoughts about what you’re going to do now?”

I paused, and Thorn’s gaze settled on me.

“I’ve got plenty to do around here,” I’d said.

He saw the way Grandma had frowned at me.

“You know you don’t have to do everything around here. If you want to go and see what’s out there, you should.”

“You are injured,” Thorn rumbled at her. “The boy is willing to take care of you. You should be grateful.”

I would have slapped him for saying that if I were able to.

Nobody talked to Grandma like that.

He continued to watch as we ate our breakfast and talked about what I’d planned to do for that morning.

By the time I was leaving to go out into the barn, he’d concluded that both of us were stubborn fools.

He waited a moment beside Grandma, looking her over one last time as she took another sip of her tea.

“Not too many therians live to be your age,” he said to her. “Don’t strain yourself.”

With that he moved to catch up with me.

He followed me through the morning chores, watching as I fed the goats and collected the eggs that hadn’t frozen.

On my way out of the barn, my boot slipped on a patch of ice. I managed to catch myself, but Thorn’s alarm struck me before I could register his voice.

“Be careful!” he hissed. “You are carrying food! Do you want your family to starve?”

Oh, those were fighting words…

Thorn stood back as he took in the sight of the homestead and Alaska while I carried the eggs inside.

This place didn’t seem too strange in the daylight. Mountains, forests, snow, cold. Those were all things that he understood.

What he didn’t understand was where the rest of my village had gone. Where were the hunters? The healers? The craftsmen? Who did we rely on when we needed supplies, or if someone here needed help?

He began following me again as I went to inspect the fenceline.

“Ah, patrolling your territory,” he remarked, “Very good. Always remain on your guard. Enemies could strike at any moment.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of receiving such high praise from a High Mountain soldier.

Thorn took a considerable amount of interest in the lynx tracks in the snow. He knelt down to get a closer look. Recognition flashed through his mind. Then confusion.

“Why here?” he asked himself.

He looked back at the homestead, then up to me as if my face might hold the answer.

He didn’t find one.

The roar of Grandpa’s pickup truck nearly sent him flying into the clearing.

A monster! An intruder!

He reeled with confusion as he watched me lift my hand and wave before moving towards it.

A friend? More family?

He ran ahead of me, puffing out his chest at the truck’s front bumper. He had no idea what he was looking at, but it roared and growled as if the thing owned the place.

His ears tilted as he picked up on the sound of music blaring from inside. It would have been catchy if it didn’t hurt to listen to it.

Thorn backed away from the truck, keeping a wary eye on it as Grandpa climbed out. Only when I joined him at the back did Thorn venture closer.

He watched us unload, his attention lingering whenever I reached for something heavy. Grandpa hadn’t asked me to. I simply took it and carried it inside while he gathered the smaller things.

Young men were expected to do work like this. That much made sense to Thorn.

But Grandpa didn’t seem helpless. He must have loaded the strange sled himself, and he moved with none of Grandma’s stiffness. He could have managed.

Thorn followed me with his eyes as I returned for another load.

I could feel him trying to decide whether I was doing what was expected of me, or whether I simply wanted to make things easier for someone I cared about.

He settled himself on the floor of the garage as he watched Grandpa and me work on the snowmobile. Yet another unfamiliar object, but he recognized the work. Grandpa handled whatever required his knowledge and skills while I served as an extra pair of hands, passing along tools and holding the light steady while his hands worked.

Thorn noted how it looked like the work he used to do with Bone.

Another pang of regret struck him.

Then my talk with Grandpa began.

At first he wanted to be annoyed, thinking that this was going to be just like my talk with Grandma. Then he continued to listen.

“Life has a way of changing plans. Sometimes it’s for the better, sometimes not. Half of the things that brought me here were things I didn’t plan on.”

A corner of Thorn’s mouth lifted as he watched Grandpa clap me on the shoulder.

“You’ll get there, Davey. And it’ll happen sooner than you think.”

“Good advice,” Thorn said with a nod. Then he frowned. “I wish someone had told me that. Maybe then I wouldn’t carry as many regrets.”

Lunch was absolute torture, both for Thorn and from my perspective inside of him.

Red fish. Warm, delicious red fish.

“Oh, please,” Thorn begged as he watched me eat. “Can’t I have some?”

He let out a whine as his pleas went completely unheard.

“Greedy…” he muttered as he watched me fill my plate for a third time. He frowned again as he thought about Bone and the meat that he’d stolen from him. “I suppose I am no better, huh?”

Then I mentioned going ice fishing.

“Okay, I get it,” I wanted to say. “You were watching me the whole time. You felt sorry for me. We can stop this now.”

Deep down, I knew what was coming next, and I didn't want to have to experience it all over again.

But Thorn didn’t register my thoughts.

It was only the memory of what he had seen and felt while he was there, but the memory refused to release as the vision of me rose from the table, bundled himself up, and disappeared back outside.

Thorn trailed behind me as I took the time to check the traps and carry back the rabbits that they caught. He found my little ritual of resting my hand over them and thanking them for their little lives deeply moving.

His attention became focused as I prepared to go ice fishing. His mind began drawing comparisons to everything that I’d done that he hadn’t.

I had the gear for it. He’d only taken a spear.

I told Grandpa where I was going and when I could be expected back. He hadn’t said anything to anyone.

I had taken something warm to drink. He’d wished he had something warm to drink.

When I’d actually managed to reach the lake, I’d checked the ice to make sure the conditions were right. He’d only assumed that they were right.

“That’s why you fell in, you idiot!” Thorn growled at himself. “You were unprepared!”

Thorn didn’t leave my side the whole time I was on the ice.

At first he only sat there, staring down at the hole. Then he glanced around at the mountains and the forest. He thought to look into the branches of the pines and spruces that surrounded us.

There was no one else there.

Time passed slowly.

“You’ve been staring at that hole for a while,” he eventually stated.

He looked at me as if he expected a response. He never got one.

His eyes lowered back to the water. “I suppose I am no better company than the fish, huh?”

He sat in silence for several more minutes before he looked at me again, and he noted the troubled expression that seemed to have settled on my face.

“Is this about what your grandparents said?” he asked.

No response.

“Don’t worry,” he continued, “You’ve got more going for you than I ever did. I was only ever meant to be one of the High Mountain’s weapons. You don't seem like you're a soldier. You are kind. You work hard. The Tribe of the Mountain Forest would readily accept someone like you. I could never be that.”

He looked at me again.

“As your grandfather said, you’ll get there. You will find your place one day.”

If I could have, I probably would have teared up.

He sat beside me all the way until I reeled in my fishing line and started to pack up my gear.

Thorn rose first, giving his body a stretch after having sat for so long.

He walked forward a couple of paces.

Crack–!

Thorn’s ankles locked as the sound filled his ears again. Dread seeped into every inch of him as he glanced down at his feet.

The ice was perfectly fine.

Another crack rang out from behind him, and he wheeled around.

“Davey, move !” he bellowed out.

He charged forward and tried to shove me away, only to pass straight through me, sending himself sliding across the ice.

Moments later the ice beneath me gave way, and I dropped straight down into the water.

Thorn scrambled to my side, trying desperately to reach for my hands and failing each time as I tried to pull myself out of the water.

He took note of my movements. The way I was trying to keep calm, but struggling. The way I reached for my safety spikes and dug them into the ice and kicked my legs as hard as I could.

“That’s it, fight!” Thorn encouraged me. “You know what to do! You’ve got this!”

Then the edge broke, and it kept breaking. My safety spikes vanished from my grasp.

Thorn looked around desperately, searching for anyone that might be able to help. He let out a roar that rattled the air. Though I’m not sure if anyone would have heard it if someone happened to be nearby.

He looked down at me, cursing under his breath as my movements became slower.

“Tomas!” he roared into the air, “Anita! Your cub needs you!”

In the water, I began letting out my own cries for help.

“Louder!” Thorn shouted, circling me. “We’re too far from the hut! They cannot hear you!”

I tried again, each attempt growing weaker than the last until my whole body refused to cooperate.

Thorn began pacing next to me, feeling utterly helpless as he could only watch me continue to struggle. He’d been with me for a whole day, and even though there was still so much he didn’t understand about me or my life, he knew one thing.

I didn’t deserve this.

Then a cry rang out in the distance.

“Hold on, Thorn!”

The voice made Thorn pause. He went completely still as his ears leaned towards it.

“Flower?”

He let out a gasp as something in his chest changed. Like he was being pulled away from the scene. Away from me when I still clearly needed help.

“No…” he muttered. He turned and looked down at me. “No, not… Not yet… He–”

Flower’s voice called out again.

“Think of Raven. Think of Shade. Just keep holding on!”

Thorn froze as the realization dawned on him.

Rain had pulled him out of the water. He had made it back to the healer’s den. His body was still alive and they were trying to pull him back.

And they just might succeed.

Realizing that almost made him laugh. Back when he'd been out on the ice, he had pleaded with the spirits to teach him how to better care for Raven and Shade. How to be a more loving husband. How to be a more caring father. How to cool his temper so he wouldn't hurt either of them again.

And then the ice beneath him broke.

He'd figured that's what the spirits thought appropriate for him. A cruel irony: cool his temper with freezing water and remove him from the world of the living so he couldn't harm anyone else.

But instead, they'd brought him to me.

In Thorn’s mind, he might not be capable of repairing all the damage his choices had caused. But maybe, maybe … This boy would be able to make something out of it for himself.

So he did as Flower asked.

He thought about Raven and how upset he had made her. He thought about Shade and the frightened expression his face had held as he cowered away from him.

They didn’t deserve that.

They didn’t deserve a monster like him.

Thorn looked down at me once more as the vision of me in the water went still.

“Please…” I sobbed weakly. “I just want to go home...”

An ache tightened inside of Thorn’s chest. The pull towards the healer’s den was growing stronger, but his gaze remained fixed on me.

This young man would never make it home. Not if his body remained in the water. Nobody appeared to be coming for him, and now he didn't even possess the strength to save himself.

Thorn growled at the unfairness of it. There was still a body waiting for him. Still someone trying to call him back.

Why did it have to be him, and not me?

That was when Thorn made his decision.

He didn’t know whether the spirits would let him offer that to someone else, but it was the only thing he had that he could potentially give me, and he couldn’t bring himself to leave me behind without asking.

Let this stranger have his body. Let him take his place in the tribe.

Thorn straightened and tilted his head up to the sky. Determination surged through him as he stood defiantly before the spirits, the ancestors, whatever power was watching over the two of us now as he resisted the pull of Flower’s voice.

“Not me!” he declared.

He was certain. More certain than he had been about anything in several moons.

He pointed down at me.

“Him.”

Thorn closed his eyes as he drew in one last breath and released it slowly.

When he opened them again, he was in the Shifting Place.

We were in the Shifting Place.

Snow lay beneath my boots. Thorn stood before me, his hand still raised.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. I could still feel his desperation as he reached for me in the water. The brief moment of panic when he heard Flower calling him back. The determination that followed.

Then his hand lowered, and his thoughts slipped away from mine.

I was left with my own, though I couldn’t put any of them into words.

Thorn watched me.

“ That is why I chose you.” 58Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡimxHtGQyRM

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