Gods. Long hours in that perfect sun with her. They passed so quickly. They felt like they were never going to end.
The Qabran twilight strains its last grey rays across the hollow tombs. Caeror and I sit side by side on a stair, the toxic waterfall hissing its way into the darkness a hundred feet away. Tash has already departed for the day. Stoic asalways in his abjuration of both comfort and dignity. I admire him more with each passing session.
“Thinking of home?” I glance across at Caeror’s question, and he smiles remorsefully at obviously having guessed right. “I’ve worn that look too often not to recognise it.”
I chuckle. Breath, as always, slightly too sharp in my chest. “Truth.”
He stares out over the gloom again. “You know, it was always the thing that struck me most, that first year. How often I found myself wishing I’d appreciated what I had.”
My humour fades.
“Truth,” I repeat softly.
Silence as we think about things that might have been, and then I stir. “How long until you think I should go?”
He doesn’t react. Plays absently with the Instruction Blade, takes a couple of casual swings at the air in front of him. “A Cataclysm every three hundred years, and it’s been three hundred and three now. I won’t send you off just to die, Vis. Everyone in there thinks Ka is a god, so you will only be able to depend on yourself. But I don’t think we can wait until you’re guaranteed success, either.” He exhales. “Not long.”
I inwardly agree, even as the expected admission punches me in the stomach. His candour, his directness, makes all the difference in these discussions. “I went back to themutalisdoor, last night.”
“Really?” Caeror brightens. Understands how big a step that is, for me. “Did you touch it?”
“I got interrupted. The girl—Nofret? She told me not to. Said it was cursed. Something about it unleashing the end of the world.” I make it a question. “I would have asked more, but a very angry young man dragged her away before I could.”
“Her brother, I imagine.” Caeror laughs, amused rather than concerned. “Gods. Shetalkedto you? Apparently I need to work on my charm. You’ve been here a month, and I didn’t get a word from anyone for at least six.” He subsides. Waves his hand. “Look, if that’s what stopped you, I wouldn’t worry. Nofret is a child, and the warnings Yusef used to give her would have scared anyone. Gods, they scaredme. I can’t imagine she knows anything we don’t.” He sees my hesitation. “But, no harm in being sure, either, I suppose. Ask her. It’ll be a good excuse to have the others see you two talk. They dote on her, so if she’swarming up to you, they may just follow.” A hint of familial affection to the last.
I nod. Vaguely relieved. I’d assumed much of what Caeror just said, but when it comes to themutalis, there’s no benefit to leaving anything to chance. “You really think that will be enough to stop them being so afraid of me?”
“Probably not. But I’m going to hope anyway.” He shrugs. “I’ve been here for seven years, Vis. They’re family. Backward and frustrating sometimes, but … family. I’d like them to be able to at least make eye contact with the man who’s trying to save them.”
I chuckle. “It’s alright. I’m not offended.”
“I know. But I am. You’re family too, you know.” He grins ruefully, then dips his head at the gathering dim. “Come on. We should get back before the light goes.”
We stand. Start walking. The hiss of tainted water rushing by withers into the darkness behind, leaving only our muted footsteps as I think about our conversation. About the work still to be done.
And about the fact I’m asking my friend to weigh my preparedness for a task that will leave millions dead if we wait too long, and me if we go too soon.
“Caeror?” He looks at me. “Youwilltell me when I’m ready, won’t you.”
He nods slowly, hearing the real concern in my voice. Chews his lip as he studies me. “There’s an old saying, Vis. The young know they will die—”
“But only the old believe it,” I finish. “I know. And I’m old enough. I am. I don’t want to go unprepared; gods, I don’t want to do it at all. But we both know that this needs to happen.”
Silence, and then he nods again. “I’ll tell you, Vis. Truly.” We walk on, and after a few seconds, he chuckles. “After you got out of the Labyrinth back on Res, I really hope you and Ulciscor made amends.”
I glance across at him. “Why?”
“Because I know him and no matter what he forced you to do, I’d gods-damned bet he likes you.”
He slaps me on the back, and we head on into the last of the light.
MY TOMB, AND QABR BEYOND ITS ENTRANCE, IS STILL UTterly black when I wake to one hand clamping my shoulder and the other mymouth. I lurch from sleep to panic, writhing and twisting futilely against the cold stone until the soft, urgent voice penetrates. “Vis. It’s me. Quiet.Quiet.”
I constrain myself to Caeror’s warning; a moment of stillness and then the pressure is cautiously lifting from my mouth. I sense it hovering, ready to stifle a yell, before finally being withdrawn.
“What’s going on?” I manage to keep it to a weary whisper. It feels like only an hour or two since I fell asleep.
“Gleaners.”
