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I exhale. “It will take you home.”
48. Amyrah
AMYRAH
WE BEGIN OUR TRAVELS TOGETHERas the birds wake up and drizzle their masterpiece over us. Our pace is easy but steady. Sometimes I forget who walks by my side, and when his fingers trail down my palm and insert themselves between mine, a pulsing warmth fills me, and it becomes difficult to breathe.
The terrain around us changes subtly as we press on. The trees thin as the ground starts to dip and rise like frozen waves. Warmth flows down from the mountain ahead, teasing us with the promise of life and causing us to peel back layers. The shadows thin, although they still drift in wispy swirls wherever I look. But we are nearing the end of their dominion. Even if we didn’t have my light, we wouldn’t need a lantern.
As the day floats by and draws down the exhale of evening, Belwyn sits down against a pine and calls me over. I settle in beside him. He takes out a parcel of smoked meats, hard cheeses, and dried fruits from his satchel for us to share.
“My mother’s final gift to me.” He shrugs as I throw him a questioning look. He tries to appear nonchalant, but I can see the way his mouth pulls down at the corner.
We both partake without reservation. I can’t remember the last time I ate, and even stale bread would taste phenomenal at this point, but I know I will never enjoy a more delicious meal in my life.
By the time we finish, the songs of night have begun to warm up. Belwyn yawns and stands, stretching his limbs.
“What do you want to do? Find somewhere to shelter for the night—” His breath catches, and I think I see him blush for the first time. “Or push on?”
I frown and listen to the waters splashing. The stream has grown considerably in size as we’ve journeyed. To me, it’s the sound of someone beckoning, calling me on. I can’t ignore it now.
Standing and brushing pine needles off my dress, I shake feeling back into my legs. “Night hardly means anything to us valefolk, does it?” I smile at the way he cocks his chin. “Yes, Luvesti or not, I’ll always just be Amyrah from the Vale.”
He nods and gathers all our supplies.
When he returns to me, his expression is somber. He hands me my bag and looks at me intensely. “Don’t use that word, alright?”
My brow furrows. I can’t think what he means. Perhaps he doesn’t like me talking about the Vale. Is he so eager to forget what we’ve come from?
But one look at his face eases my mind.
“Just. It’s much too small for someone like you.”
Heat blooms into my cheeks.
Belwyn presses a palm to my back, and we continue chasing the stream.
Over the next few hours, the path turns into a grueling slog over ledges and up increasingly steep slopes. Without being able to see what lies ahead, all we can do is press on, one climb at a time. I wish the sola had stayed in sight. I wonder where it slipped off to.
The night settles in, bringing with it a chill and bone-racking exhaustion. We stop frequently to catch our breath and scoop what we can from what is now more of a waterfall than a stream. The noise of it grows as we press further and further into the Askonnet Mountains.
“How are you doing? Should we stop here?” Belwyn asks after saving me from a clumsy step on loose shale.
I shake my head and dab the sweat away from my forehead with the back of a hand.
No. We’re getting close. I can feel it.
He doesn’t argue, but lets me go ahead of him now, holding out his hands to catch me whenever he thinks I’m about to slip.
When the night is almost pitch black and my legs shudder beneath me, I must admit it would not be safe to continue. I close my eyes and suck in air through my nose.
It’s fine. There’s always tomorrow,I console myself. But in my depleted state, I am one small disappointment away from a complete breakdown.
“We don’t need to go on, you know.” Belwyn pulls me close to him—not to embrace me, but to be my strength.
I can’t form words. How can I make him understand? This isn’t about my safety, or even my need to discover what secrets my mother hid.
It’s abouthim. My father. The one who lay down his life so I might be free.
