I stumble over the words I’ll need to tell General Aster of his daughter’s death. And being there for Calix.
No magic or training has ever given me insight into this. My own loss of direction and feeling, of being abandoned and let down by my father, now pales into the reality of the sorrow and loss dragging on my heart.
We’re barely moving faster than a walk by the time the darkness of the sky gives way to Novandia.
“We need supplies. Time.” Every second we remain here sharpens my nerves, but I have no counter to Kalan’s plan, if you can even call it that.
“Fine. We need to rest up. Work out what’s happened to Ever.” That’s the priority—the only priority—getting Ever safe. And then honouring Crimson by bringing her home, and neither is achievable without help. So, I go with Kalan’s plan.
As the sun climbs, signalling midday, Kalan stops for rest, laying Ever down on a slight rise of the ground. “We’re in the foothills. It won’t be much farther.”
“Until what?” I ask.
“Until we find shelter and friends. We need to book passage back to Kirrasia as fast as possible.”
“How?” I ask, as I lay Crimson’s body down. My muscles scream, but I ignore the pain, happy to focus on that over the reality of why they hurt.
“Same way we got here. Ever needs to see the Maker.”
A sense of déjà vu screams inside my head. Ever was brought to Kirrasia because her power was awakening. Now…
Kalan hands me a water skin, and I gladly quench my thirst.
“Where are we?”
“The northern foothills. Nehanduns occupy the south of the realm, and that’s where Kirrians come, too. The King’s domain remains in the northeast, sequestered away. The Usher has used the northern mountains as cover for his camp for years.”
“And you didn’t want to share that with the Orders in Kirrasia?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But it’s done, now.” He stands and paces by Ever. My eyes stay vigilant on her chest, following the shallow rise and fall of her breaths.
After everything we’ve been through, every hurt we’ve inflicted, there was a part of me that believed that she would be okay. And now, with the scorch burn at her throat all too visible in the light, I can’t hold onto that anymore. It’s slipping through my fingers as sure as holding onto sand and dust.
“I’m sorry about your friend.” Kalan nods to Crimson. “We need to keep moving.”
He walks back to Ever and lifts her still-unconscious body in his arms.
Under any other circumstances, I’d never allow another man to carry her. But I won’t leave Crimson to anyone else. She risked and lost everything for me. The least I can do is carry her now.
We continue on the path Kalan has set, walking at a steady pace. The trees grow sparse, giving way to rock and cracks in the earth, which slows us, but we remain on track.
The sun’s heat fades and turns to a glow, painting the world around us in splashes of gold. It would be pretty under any other circumstance.
Finally, in a clearing, nestled against a craggy strut of rock, is a small house, built into the side of the rock.
There are a couple of outbuildings, tucked away by a few trees. There’s no clear path, no obvious road or noise to be heard, and realise this is where Kalan’s taking us.
“Stay here. Lay her down by that stable.” He points to the outbuilding.
Her body is stiff and ridged and awkward to move, but I’m as gentle as possible as I place her down. The colour has drained from her face, a greyish pallor stealing all her beauty.
It feels wrong to just leave her here, but I don’t know what else I can do. I stand over her, not willing to go. Unable to move.
As dusk catches up, I finally find the courage to go up to the house.
I step through the wooden door and see Kalan and two other men.
“Aten Ciro, this is Shawn and Jensen.”
