Somehow, the lack of expression on the other woman’s face is a balm on her heart. There is no timid smile, in an attempt to coax one from the freckled woman. There is no pity, no ‘I know how you feel,’ ready to burst forth from her lips. While Miri was aware that she was not the only one to have lost half of her soul, she also believed that no one experienced pain the same way. Everyone’s tolerance was a little bit different, and everyone’s stories were unique to them. Miri could not feel the pain of, say, Rushad’s loss of the Fuu that Rosa had mentioned because she had no idea how they had met, or why he had needed a familiar in the first place.

These thoughts flitted about in her mind like moths around a candle flame. “She is gone,” she replied heavily, placing a closed hand over her heart, not quite aware that Joanna had extended hers. “When I reach for her, there is no one there.” As if to demonstrate, even though Joanna could clearly not see what was occurring, Miri sent a tendril of thought along the mental path that had connected her to the maned wolf. The spark of hope that flickered at the bottom of her heart leapt a little, but Miri wasn’t truly expecting anything to have changed. The curse had simply appeared, tearing from half of Shaman those who were dearest to them; for all they knew, it would remain in place until the instigator had died. Miri was a little fuzzy on the details.

Unlike the tsunamis that had slammed into both sides of Shaman, Jhela’s presence was the barest trickle of a new creek, growing stronger slowly but surely. For a moment Miri could do nothing but focus all of her attention internally, but when it became apparent that her soul was reconnecting with itself, and unbelieving laugh escaped her. A wide smile breaking out over her face, Miri’s green, hazel-flecked eyes turned to Joanna. “She’s back!” she whispered breathlessly before closing the distance between them in one quick step, lifting her arms to grasp Joanna’s face and pull her close for one euphoric kiss.

Releasing her —the gesture had only been intended to express her deep and resounding joy as it filled her from the bottom of her feet to past the crown of her head— Miri reached out to take hold of Joanna’s arm. “She’s back!” she repeated. “I must go to her—” Jhela’s presence surged in her mind, clamoring for her immediate attention as panic spiked. “—but thank you!” She released Joanna and took two steps away, thought better of it, and pivoted to face the other woman again, her face still alight with joy. “Would you like to meet her?” Reassuring waves were sent to the maned wolf, who she was aware was clamoring for her attention somewhere in the castle yard. She had made it to dry land?

When linked by mind, it did not take much effort to locate one or the other involved in the bond. Combined with Jhela’s superior senses, the maned wolf was upon them in less than two minutes following the reconnection of the bond. The long-legged creature came barreling down the hallway, a whine pressing against her throat as Miri whirled to greet her, dropping to her knees. Jhela was speechless, sending wave after wave of overwhelming bliss to her bondmate as she checked the freckled woman for injuries, whuffling as she nosed her fairy all over. Miri did the same, although she used her fingers to check for any wounds. Jhela admitted to some bruising from the flood, but neither had sustained any lasting physical damage.

Their minds wound tightly together, Miri finally stood and faced Joanna. Her smile was less broad, but no less delighted, and now she stepped forward with her sister pressed against her leg. “My name is Miri, and this is Jhela,” she introduced herself and her bondmate. No other words had ever felt so right to say.