‘How you still hate to see hurt,’ Stide murmurs gently. ‘Even though it is everywhere. When will you learn? Pain is an essential part of life. It teaches us lessons we should not ignore.’
Thessa lets out a broken sound, halfway between a laugh and a sob. ‘You’re impossible,’ she whispers. ‘Even now.’
A wraith-like smile flickers on Stide’s lips before it fades. Her eyes darken. ‘Help me. Let me reach Mortidem before it is too late. Before I become something that would hurt you.’
We wait in silence, knowing it is not our place to speak. Not our place to offer empty words of reassurance to a woman whose life has been forfeited because she chose to walk this path with us, chose to help fight the monster that wanted us because she knew we needed to survive.
As the air holds still, Thessa bows her head, her shoulders shaking. A flurry of self-loathing strikes me. I was worried that Stide’s sickness would slow us down, would endanger us and delay my reaching the Issen. What I would give to take those thoughts back. I would go as slowly as we needed to keep that mottled green of the Rottings from claiming her. But such wishes are futile.
When Thessa finally looks up, her eyes are red-rimmed and resolute, the agonising decision carved into her face.
‘I won’t let you become a Rotting,’ she promises hoarsely. ‘I swear it.’
She goes to her pack and returns moments later with a drawstring bag. Her fingers tremble as she fumbles with the string.
Finally she opens it, and she hesitates only a second before drawing out a small vial, the liquid inside dark and still. It reminds me of a similar potion I made once – hemlock that I distilled for a similarly deadly purpose.
‘It’s fast,’ Thessa whispers, as though confessing a secret. ‘I’ve carried it for emergencies. For mercy.’ Her voice breaks. ‘I never thought …’
She cannot finish the sentence. She doesn’t need to.
Stide’s lips curve into a faint, grateful smile. ‘You’re prepared,’ shesays softly. ‘Always prepared. I love that about you.’ She smiles even as she shakes, her teeth chattering. ‘And I love so much about you, Thessa Rok. I hope you know that. You’re my dawn. For me, it has always been you. It always will be you.’
Thessa chokes, pressing her forehead briefly to Stide’s hand before she straightens, wiping her tears with the heel of her palm.
‘I love you too, my very dearest friend.’
Stide smiles. ‘Thank you. Now do it. Do it before it is too late to save my soul.’
‘I won’t leave you,’ Thessa promises, forcing steadiness into her voice. ‘Not for a moment.’
Thessa uncorks the vial with shaking hands and brings it to Stide’s lips. Her strength is seeping from her body, and yet the Quiet One swallows without hesitation, her gaze never leaving Thessa’s face. Almost instantly, it seems as though her chest becomes thick and heavy, her breathing laboured, and now pain rises in me. It is too much. Too similar to Llinos’s last moments, and I know I am not alone in feeling it.
Wordlessly, I fumble my way to Caz and lace my fingers through hers, feeling her pain in the force of her grip. Another friend lost before our eyes. Another casualty that will be added to the litany of scars that mar my heart.
‘Find happiness, my Thessa,’ Stide whispers, her gaze sliding to us and lingering on Caz, who sobs with hurt past and present.
Benny’s arm wraps around her as his own eyes glisten with unshed tears, his other hand gripping Ruben’s.
Pain swells in the air as Thessa leans down, pressing her forehead to Stide’s. The vial slips from her fingers. ‘I love you, my friend,’ Thessa repeats. ‘I’ll miss you so much. You know that, don’t you? You know how much I’ll miss you? I’ll miss you forever.’
But no answer comes from the Quiet One.
No sound will ever come from her again.
She’s gone.
Chapter 56
We unpack and rebuild the camp. There will be no progress today. We are not fit to journey, not fit to fight.
Besides, there are tasks to do. The body needs to be prepared for death, the way the Sannings deem it right to meet the Gods.
Thessa directs us quietly. We need to cleanse Stide’s body, lay out her weapons by her side, and offer her back to the earth from which she came.
We all do our part. The wolves and Kyor dig the final resting place, Ruben, Benny, and Loch collect the rocks to mark the land, and I seek out flowers, gathering wild thyme and rosemary that Thessa will place on the body once she and Caz have cleaned it from the stains of mortal life.
By the time all is done and the body is safe beneath the ground, no one has the strength or inclination to ride. Today, we are mired in grief, and it paralyses us all.
