The edge of the lake isn’t far, and I don’t mind the walk now I’ve got food in my belly, the nourishment kickstarting my mind, that’s now running at full speed. It was only for a few days, but being without my gift, or the ability to use it properly, left me feeling weak in a way that was different to the monthly new moon phase we were all used to.
Being in Estereah and then on the water had me exposed. That’s not what I needed to help Ever.
The shadow of the steep inclines of the Jet Mountains runs straight to the edge of the lake. With those to the west, and the crawling scattering of trees from the Variscite Forest, the passage has grown narrower, but the sight hasn’t dimmed.
Novandia lights up the turquoise of the lake, reflecting a pearly blue colour to my eyes. It’s beautiful, and I immediately think of Ever and what she might think of the spectacle. But as I gaze around, the white caps of the mountains, edging closer down the mountains this far north, are a shadow in my mind.
Shrugging it off, I cross to the edge and strip the caked clothing from me.
With the meltwater running directly into the lake, I know this will be a shock to the system, so vote to just get on with it, and rush forward.
Ice splinters over my shins and thighs, and the cold freezes my lungs, making it hard to breathe as I go farther in. Speed is my ally, so I try to master my breathing for one lungful and force my muscles to comply, dipping beneath the surface. My handsscrub over my hair and body, providing a crude wash, but it will have to do.
As I breach the surface, my teeth are already chattering together from the cold, and I limp back to shore.
My feet are numb, but I shake it off, constantly moving, and keeping the blood pumping around my body. When most of the water has given up and fallen to the ground, I dress and savour the warmth the layers of material create.
Before I head back to Crimson, I look over the vista and hope that I’ll be able to show this to Ever one day. Even if I get to her, wherever she may be, there’s still the problem of my banishment from Kirrasia to face.
“If you’re going for concealment, hate to tell you, but you suck.” I force the jovial tone as I scout along, closer to the tree line, and return to the spot I left Crimson. She’s made no attempt to conceal herself or to remain hidden from view, opting to lie out on the slight rise in the terrain and soak up some of the sun’s rays.
“That wasn’t the aim.” She sits up as I draw closer and doesn’t protest when I’m a few feet from her. The bath must have worked. “They’ll be here soon. I don’t even know if Calix will be able to travel this far.” She looks away again.
“Will you tell me what happened?” She shifts her position as I take a seat next to her and hang my elbows on my knees.
She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t shoot me down, either, which, for her, is a plus.
Finally, she takes a deep, steadying breath. “He was viciously strong and still had his power, Ten. Calix was, well, Calix. He’salways had the upper hand, so why would this be any different?” She shrugs, but her voice trembles, belaying the ease of her words. “I went for the ones holding Ever. Calix attacked but…” she tails off, and my gut tightens as she leaves the details for my imagination to conjure.
“He had power, Ten. Fucking terrifying power on a new moon. How?” And I have no answer for her. “He held me in some sort of status. I couldn’t move, couldn’t see Calix. Couldn’t help. All I had was Ever’s face and emotions to tell me how badly Calix was losing. I heard how badly he was losing.”
“Who was it? Who had her, and who attacked you?” Any attempt to keep my voice calm is abandoned.
She turns to me then. “He risked everything. For you. Forher.How about some concern for us?” She slams her hand against her chest as she narrows her eyes. This is the Crimson I recognise—sharp teeth and a sharper tongue.
“You’re here. Calix is here. Ever’s not. And, she’s with someone we have no fucking clue about, and who has power. I’m grateful to both of you for what you did to try to help. I will never be able to tell you how thankful I am, but right now, we have two other problems.”
“No shit.” Calix’s voice carries, and we both jump up to watch as he comes towards us, limping, half carried by his father.
Blessed Aslendrix. What in the stars?
It might be Calix’s voice I recognise, but there isn’t much else that I do. Half of his face is contorted with bruising, pushing his features together and encasing them in purple and red welts. His eye is swollen shut, his lip and cheek the same.
His arm is strapped to his side, and one of his legs looks to have been broken, given the lack of weight he’s putting on it.
“Stop staring. Perrin said I’d be fine.”
“Perrin told you to rest. Not to come all the way out here with us,” General Aster scolds him.
Calix rights himself and staggers a little towards me. Even with this one eye swelled shut, I can see the sorrow he carries. He feels responsible—like he let me down. Not a fucking chance in Zuns that he did. I embrace him, slinging my arm around him.
“Easy there, Ten.” He returns the gesture, though. “I’m sorry. But he…”
“It’s not on you. No matter what I asked. I didn’t expect you to end up like this.”
General Aster gives us both a stern look, clearly disapproving of our exhibit of touch in this informal way.
I help ease Calix to the ground, and he stretches his leg as much as he can.
