The shaft looked undamaged at first glance, but I knew better. I’d heard the crack and had felt the wood give underneath me. Too afraid to pick it up, I leaned over it and scanned the length again. A hairline fracture bisected the upper limb just above the grip. My chest squeezed at the sight of it. There was no fixing that. I sniffled.
It was dumb to cry over a bow. Nothing lasted forever. I knew that. But, that damn bow was my last connection with Dad. We’d picked it out before the quakes, and using it made me feel like he was still watching over me.
I looked up at the two fey who watched me warily.
“What the fuck is wrong with you people? What did I do to deserve being treated like this?”
“I will replace the bow,” Drav said.
“It was from my dad. You can’t replace sentimental value.” I picked up the bow in both hands. “I’m guessing there was a sense of urgency in getting me back before dark. I’m ready now. I don’t think there’s anything else for you to break.”
Drav glanced at Thallirin then picked me up again and started running. I didn’t pay attention to the trees like I should have. I kept thinking of the broken bow. It’d been stupid to throw a fit. What if he’d been trying to save me from a horde of infected? Maybe it was for the best that the bow was broken. Being that emotionally attached to something was a dangerous distraction I couldn’t afford. Yet, I still ached that it was broken.
When we cleared Tolerance’s wall, instead of setting me down, Drav continued to run. A sick ball of worry formed in my stomach.
“Where are we going? Is my mom okay?”
“Mya wants to speak with you.”
He stopped in front of his house and let me enter on my own two feet. Mya was sitting in the living room, a trash can at her side and a book in her lap. Nothing about her position or expression looked urgent.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, moving into the room.
The door closed, and I looked back to see that we were alone.
“I just wanted to talk to you for a minute. How was today’s supply run?”
I slowly turned to face her, my thumb smoothing over the fracture in the bow.
“I’m here for an idle chat?”
“Well, not entirely idle. Please, have a seat. I’m feeling awkward enough, and you standing over me like that isn’t going to make this any easier.”
Despite my anger, I sat with my bow resting on my knees and waited to hear her out.
“The fey are upset about the way you’re treating Thallirin. Purposely ignoring him. Saying rude things. Thallirin has sacrificed so much to be part of their brotherhood again, and they won't turn their backs on him. Not even for you.”
That’s why my bow had been broken? Because of fucking hurt feelings? I used my panic-attack method of breathing to calm down enough to answer rationally.
“I’m not asking them to turn their backs on anyone. I’m fine using my own two legs to get to Tenacity and back.”
“They just want to see Thallirin happy.”
“And I’m not caving to community preference and spreading my legs to make that happen.”
She had the decency to look shocked.
“That’s not at all what I’m suggesting!”
“It is. You know it is. I’ve tried to pull my weight. I guard the walls, doing my part. So does Zach. Molev said it didn’t matter that Mom was in a chair. He promised we would be safe and protected. Instead, I’m being bullied into picking a fey for a partner.”
I stood.
“Matt said we’d be welcome there. I think it’s time I mention that to my mom.”
I moved to leave then turned back to Mya.
“Oh, and as an example of the bullying, Drav didn’t ask to carry me here. He told me what he was doing then grabbed me, breaking my bow in the process. This bow was the last thing I had from my dad. Maybe you’ll be able to understand the significance of that more than they seem to be able to.”
“Brenna, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Be different. I know you’re pro fey, but don’t forget they aren’t the only people depending on you.”
I left her house, and as I walked home, I considered my conversation with Mya and my options. Living at Tenacity wouldn’t be easier for any of us. In fact, it would be harder. The last few days had proven that. Yet, I refused to continue like this. Where did that leave me?
Heat and the scent of dinner enveloped me when I walked in.
“I’m home.”
“You’re back early,” Mom called as I started peeling off layers.
“Yeah. Drav carried me back. I broke my bow.”
There was a beat of silence.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Can we fix it?”
“No. The upper limb fractured just above the riser. I’ll need to use yours tomorrow.” I finished kicking off my boots and entered the kitchen to find Mom silently crying as she cut meat into little cubes.
“Those better be tears of joy that we’re having real meat tonight.”
She shook her head at me, and I sat beside her, already knowing what was making her cry.
“Losing the bow hurts. But, we need to look at things practically. It’s just a bow. It doesn’t mean I’m losing any more of Dad than I already have.”
“It does. We’re replacing everything. I can’t do this.” She wiped her hands then her face. “I can’t see Uan.” She wheeled away from the table and went to her room.
Zach watched me.
“You okay?”
“I’m feeling like Mom right now. But I know it’ll pass. You?”
He sighed.
“Losing is just part of life. You know?”
I nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. Life was a series of learning, loving, and letting go. You either got used to the letting go or gave up on living.
“Keep cooking,” I said. “Tonight, we’ll find out just how serious Uan is about Mom.”
The stew was simmering by the time Uan knocked on the door. I let him in.
“Mom’s having a rough day,” I said. “She’s missing my dad. She told us she didn’t want to see you anymore, but I don’t think that’s true. You’ve made her happy.”
He looked down at me for a long moment.
“She makes me very happy.”
“Then go remind her of that.”
He went back to Mom’s bedroom and let himself in without knocking. Zach and I waited by the table. The low rumble of Uan’s voice came from the room several times before the door opened and Mom emerged. Her face was tear-stained and mottled, but she didn’t give us the Mom glare as she parked at the table.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
“Anytime,” I said.
We served dinner and sat down together. Before I managed more than a few bites, Zach reached into his pocket and withdrew several packets of birth control, which he set on the table without a word. I was surprised he handled it with so much dignity. And in front of Uan, too. But it was only right since he needed to understand what they meant.
I looked at Mom then Uan. Uan frowned at the packets of pills.
“Do you know what they are?” Mom asked.
“Medicine,” Uan said. “Are you sick?”