Return (Lady of Toryn trilogy) Read Online Free
Author: Charity Santiago
of credits that spilled out of her bulging drawstring purse. In her boredom she had decided to reorganize her belongings. But apparently she hadn’t learned any fabulous housekeeping traits in the nine months since she'd last reorganized, because Ashlyn had lost interest in the first five minutes. Ugh.
Her extra clothes (there weren't many, seeing as how she had to travel light) were neatly folded and repacked. The wet clothes she'd been wearing were hanging in the tiny closet in the corner, and the outfit she wore now was wrinkled but clean, at least. Until tonight Ashlyn hadn't noticed how tight her shirts had been getting, and how the hem of her shorts didn't even reach to mid-thigh. But since she'd seen Skye - and she'd always harbored something like a crush on the blond swordsman - Ashlyn had suddenly realized that she was still clad in the same childish tank tops and shorts that she had been wearing when she was sixteen. The only difference was that now the clothes were way too small for her.
Maybe she could borrow something from Restlyn, although Ashlyn doubted that even with her newfound curves she could fill out anything that belonged to the curvier Toryn.
Ashlyn shoved her tent kit off the bed with a toe. That freed up some space. There were also two hira shuriken, the weapons she had started fighting with after Devlyn had apparently stolen her favorite bo shuriken.
And then there were her stanes.
Ashlyn didn't consider herself materialistic at all. But stanes …well, they were another story entirely. The small, glowing stones harbored more magic than the most powerful shaman on Kresmir. Her small stane collection was her most valued possession, and she’d nearly killed herself to attain some of them - including the bright orange reveal stane she’d swiped off Skye when they’d parted ways eight years before.
Come to think of it, she was surprised he hadn't said anything to her during their conversation earlier. Not like he didn't know it was her. Who else would have been sneaky enough to steal something like that?
She slowly repacked the stanes, wrapping each gem in a tattered scrap of leather to keep them from clinking and revealing the bag's contents.
As she was pushing the bag underneath her bed, a soft knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," Ashlyn said, standing and turning towards the door.
Restlyn entered, looking much the same as she always did in jean shorts and a simple white shirt. She wasn't wearing the armband or her gloves…or shoes, Ashlyn realized, which gave the older girl an uncharacteristic air of innocence.
Details that she hadn't noticed the night before began to surface before Ashlyn's eyes. Restlyn's hair was much, much lighter now, riddled with honey-colored highlights. Instead of her usual braid, Restlyn wore a loose ponytail, with carefully arranged curls cascading down her back. It was strangely familiar, even similar to the style worn by…
Ashlyn sucked in a breath when she realized that Restlyn's hair was a startling re-creation of Jenn's, and her heart ached. There was no ring on the older woman's hand. Was Skye really still moping around over the dead Angel, when Restlyn was so clearly in love with him?
"Oh Restlyn," she groaned. "How could you?" As if the whole Toryn-at-war thing wasn't enough to deal with, now there was some kind of whacked identity crisis among her friends.
The other girl stopped, a crooked smile on her lips. "How could I what?"
"Your hair…" Ashlyn trailed off, raising a hand to finger the long strands framing Restlyn's face. "This isn't you. It was so gorgeous before."
Restlyn's laugh sounded forced, a fake twittering as she fought to cover the truth. "That's what I was going for, you know. Not me."
"Jenn would have hated it," Ashlyn said before she could stop herself.
Restlyn brushed Ashlyn's hand away. "Well, Jenn is dead , isn't she?" Her voice was smooth and biting,
Her extra clothes (there weren't many, seeing as how she had to travel light) were neatly folded and repacked. The wet clothes she'd been wearing were hanging in the tiny closet in the corner, and the outfit she wore now was wrinkled but clean, at least. Until tonight Ashlyn hadn't noticed how tight her shirts had been getting, and how the hem of her shorts didn't even reach to mid-thigh. But since she'd seen Skye - and she'd always harbored something like a crush on the blond swordsman - Ashlyn had suddenly realized that she was still clad in the same childish tank tops and shorts that she had been wearing when she was sixteen. The only difference was that now the clothes were way too small for her.
Maybe she could borrow something from Restlyn, although Ashlyn doubted that even with her newfound curves she could fill out anything that belonged to the curvier Toryn.
Ashlyn shoved her tent kit off the bed with a toe. That freed up some space. There were also two hira shuriken, the weapons she had started fighting with after Devlyn had apparently stolen her favorite bo shuriken.
And then there were her stanes.
Ashlyn didn't consider herself materialistic at all. But stanes …well, they were another story entirely. The small, glowing stones harbored more magic than the most powerful shaman on Kresmir. Her small stane collection was her most valued possession, and she’d nearly killed herself to attain some of them - including the bright orange reveal stane she’d swiped off Skye when they’d parted ways eight years before.
Come to think of it, she was surprised he hadn't said anything to her during their conversation earlier. Not like he didn't know it was her. Who else would have been sneaky enough to steal something like that?
She slowly repacked the stanes, wrapping each gem in a tattered scrap of leather to keep them from clinking and revealing the bag's contents.
As she was pushing the bag underneath her bed, a soft knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," Ashlyn said, standing and turning towards the door.
Restlyn entered, looking much the same as she always did in jean shorts and a simple white shirt. She wasn't wearing the armband or her gloves…or shoes, Ashlyn realized, which gave the older girl an uncharacteristic air of innocence.
Details that she hadn't noticed the night before began to surface before Ashlyn's eyes. Restlyn's hair was much, much lighter now, riddled with honey-colored highlights. Instead of her usual braid, Restlyn wore a loose ponytail, with carefully arranged curls cascading down her back. It was strangely familiar, even similar to the style worn by…
Ashlyn sucked in a breath when she realized that Restlyn's hair was a startling re-creation of Jenn's, and her heart ached. There was no ring on the older woman's hand. Was Skye really still moping around over the dead Angel, when Restlyn was so clearly in love with him?
"Oh Restlyn," she groaned. "How could you?" As if the whole Toryn-at-war thing wasn't enough to deal with, now there was some kind of whacked identity crisis among her friends.
The other girl stopped, a crooked smile on her lips. "How could I what?"
"Your hair…" Ashlyn trailed off, raising a hand to finger the long strands framing Restlyn's face. "This isn't you. It was so gorgeous before."
Restlyn's laugh sounded forced, a fake twittering as she fought to cover the truth. "That's what I was going for, you know. Not me."
"Jenn would have hated it," Ashlyn said before she could stop herself.
Restlyn brushed Ashlyn's hand away. "Well, Jenn is dead , isn't she?" Her voice was smooth and biting,
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