by C D Beaudin
Would she?
But he doesn’t air his thoughts to Awyn or Adriel.
Although Saine has the same thoughts, apparently.
“Why are we listening to her? She fell from the sky, she probably hit her head,” Saine whispers to Kepp.
“Well then, you probably did too. So why would I listen to you?”
Saine glares at him and keeps on hobbling along.
He rolls his eyes and runs after him.
Their feet are covered in blisters and blood. The boots on their feet have almost completely worn through, and their pants are ripped, which isn’t so bad considering the heat. But for Awyn and Adriel, they had a whole other problem.
Their feet were bare. Their shoes must have been removed at some point between their capture and the fall, so the bottoms of their feet were becoming raw. They managed to messily stitch some bigger patches of the men’s shirt fabric into slippers of sorts with a fine bone they’d found. It seemed to be a stroke of uncommon luck—though, they are barely holding together. And their dresses are almost ripped to shreds, but the slip underneath is mostly intact, so they aren’t completely exposed.
Despite that, they seem to be making good progress. The ridge of the Rohidian mountains are in sight. They’ll probably be walking into winter. Though, it’s hard to know when the seasons change in the desert.
An hour—or, maybe two—later, mist starts to form. It grows thicker as they continue to walk, and it becomes harder to breathe. Soon, the mist turns into a silver fog. The troupe starts to cough and wheeze as this smoke-like atmosphere chokes them.
“This has to be where the curse ends,” Adriel yells through the fog. Their vision is blurry, and their hearing muffled. If this is where the curse of the desert ends, why don’t they feel the cold of Rohidian mountains?
Underneath them the ground turns icy, and the air frosty, but it still isn’t any colder than back under the hot sun. The fog still clouds their path, so much so, they aren’t even sure they’re still going west.
But then the cold hits. All at once, freezing, penetrating cold. It stings their lungs and they gasp for air. The fog has cleared, but now a heavy snow plunders upon them, wind and snow smashing into their bodies and freezing their steps. They all march on, but their bare skin is starting to ice over.
Kepp is regretting making slippers out of their shirts. The desert was just so hot, none of them were thinking ahead to the drastic climate that is the Rohidian winter—and the curse Revera has cast upon the land has made the season even more penetrating.
“We have to find shelter!” Kepp yells through the howling of the snow.
“Where?” Adriel yells back, the three of them only feet apart, each trying to make their way through the harsh winds. But then Adriel stops, swaying in the wind as she looks back.
Ten feet away lies Saine, his face in the snow, the white powder covering his body. She screams and fights her way back to him. Kepp and Awyn follow her.
Awyn kneels beside him, turning his limp body over and puts her fingers to his throat. From the way her face darkens, he can tell there’s nothing there.
Adriel breaks into furious, racking sobs.
“The sudden cold must have given him a heart attack.” Then under her breath, she mutters, “Welcome to Rohidia.”
Chapter Eleven
“Saine. Wake up!” Adriel sobs for Saine, who lies there with no heartbeat. “Saine!” She holds him in her arms, and they sit there in the snow, the cold wind stinging their faces.
Hot tears clinging to Awyn’s, and no doubt Kepp and Adriel’s too.
Awyn and Kepp watch in painful silence. Awyn doesn’t know what to do, she didn’t study with Kaniel long enough. She should have. She should have read more, listened more. Looking over at Kepp, he just stares, not moving.
She lets out an icy sigh.
Adriel has stopped crying, she seems to have no more tears to shed. She just hugs the man in her arms, her eyes drooping, her hair falling over her darkened face. Awyn looks at the path ahead, the blizzard clearing up, but it’s still a maze in the mountains.
“Come on, we have to move.” She stands, knowing they won’t follow her. She can feel Adriel’s angry glare boring into her back. Awyn knows it’s insensitive—that it’s more than insensitive—but they need to move before something else bad happens.
Bad things always happen to the people around her.
When she finally stops walking—knowing if she goes any farther Kepp and Adriel will never catch up—she sits down behind a rock, shielded from the wind. The snow stopped almost as soon as it had started, otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to keep going. So, she waits for her siblings to catch up. It’s not that she isn’t sad about Saine, because she is, but she prefers to bottle up her emotions until they burst out all at once. At least, that’s her new strategy.
Maybe it’s the fact that she can’t wrap her head around him being dead. Yes, that’s probably it. She can’t sort through her emotions, because they were stunted when she went into that cell…
Now I’m just making excuses for myself. Maybe I’m incapable of emotion? Perhaps I’m dead inside? Or the Dalorin in the Dark Woods did succeed in taking my soul? Or my heart has been turned to stone by Revera and I can no longer feel. But more likely, it’s because my heart will shatter into a million pieces, and I will never be able to get it back. I know this in a part of my brain I can’t reach.
Or maybe I don’t care he’s dead. It’s not as if I knew him.
She sits there for a moment. “I’m going crazy,” she mutters under her breath. Awyn stands when she hears the crunch of footsteps. She walks out into the path and watches them moving slowly, Kepp carrying his friend over his shoulder, dragging his own feet through the snow.
“Finally, let’s go.” She turns and continues walking. She knows she’s being harsh and unfair, but she can’t help it. The sooner they get to Rohea, the Rohidian capital, the better.
The silence is deafening. The only sound is the wind, the crunch of snow under their boots, and their breathing as they walk on. Kepp grunts with effort. Awyn feels a tear trail down her cheek as she hears him literally adjust the dead weight of Saine. She blinks it back, wiping it away before it has a chance to stain her cheek.
The fire flickers, illuminating the cave in an orange glow. The cave isn’t warm, but it’s dry. And they’re shielded from the storm outside, which has returned with a vengeance. The snow had turned to ice and pelted them just as they’d found a cave.
Adriel and Kepp don’t look at the body. They stare into the fire, while Awyn stares at the wall, lying down on the cold stone floor. The heat of the fire on her back, she sighs, her eyes fluttering as she grows more and more tired. She can hear Adriel’s quiet whimper, and Kepp choke on tears, trying not to cry over his dead friend.
I did this, Awyn thinks. I killed him. If I had only let Tamon kill me, none of this would have happened.
She sits up, and looks over at Saine, whose eyes remain closed. That’s not right. From what Kaniel had taught her, the dead’s eyes remain open. She walks over to him, unnoticed by her grieving siblings. Touching his cold hand, she gently moves his head. She puts her finger to his neck, and lets it linger for longer this time.
Did she just imagine that?
She lays her head on his chest. Thump. And there it is. His heartbeat. It’s very slow, no wonder she couldn’t hear it, only a few heartbeats per minute, but it’s there.
“He’s alive,” she mutters under her breath. Then she turns to the others. “He’s alive!”
Adriel and Kepp both turn, tears on their faces, their eyes wide with hope, but riddled with doubt. Adriel crawls over, and scrambles to take his hand. Now laying her head against his heart too, she feels his heartbeat.
“He’s alive, you’re alive!” She throws herself on top of him, not letting go. She wails with joy and relief, her arms around his neck as he lies unconscious and pale.
Kepp, now standing, just looks at Awyn.
“You must be mad,” Awyn says quietly. She barely knows her half-brother, he’s still a stranger to her.
Kepp’s eyes are grateful but cold. “Next time let us grieve without your pestilence.”
Awyn silently nods, and Kepp kneels next to his friend.
Awyn sighs. I was never allowed that luxury.
But she can feel relief and the strange feeling of joy spread through her body. Saine’s alive, she isn’t a killer. She knows it wouldn’t have been all her fault, but it’s hard not to blame herself. He’s her friend. But she didn’t kill him. The memory of Arleaand still haunts her dreams when she was slaughtering all those elves.
But she tries to remember that she didn’t kill them, she merely turned most of them into Dalorin.
Which is arguably worse.
The next morning comes and outside the fresh snow sparkles in the sunlight. It isn’t snowing anymore, which will make their travels much easier. But the snow is still much higher than it had been yesterday.
Kepp stirs, his brow furrowing. He seems caught in a bad dream, small beads of sweat dotting his face and neck. On the other side of the burned embers, Adriel sleeps soundly, her eyelashes gently touching her fair cheeks, her hands underneath her face.
And Awyn sleeps away from the group, only half-asleep. Her cut face from yesterday has healed with no scars, a perk of being an elf, she supposes. Even in sleep, her mind swirled with thoughts about too many things and too much to worry about.
Adriel’s screams bring her and Kepp into full alertness, sending them both into a panic. “What’s wrong, what happened?” Kepp asks frantically.
“Saine’s gone!” She cries.
Kepp’s eyes widen, and Awyn’s brows come together in worry.
“Okay, okay, calm down. He probably woke up and nature called.” Kepp tries to soothe his frantic sister, but it doesn’t do any good.
Adriel bawls, tears streaming down her face.
“He’s gone! He’s gone!” she wails, almost as hard as she had when they thought he was dead. “Saine…”
“Someone called?”
The three look up as they hear his voice, and a figure appears in the cave entrance. It’s shadowed, the sun behind him, but once he hobbles deeper into the cave, they see Saine. Adriel yelps, rushing to wrap her arms around him in a shaky hug.
“Uh, did I miss something?”
Awyn chuckles as Kepp just stares.
Adriel pulls away, but there is not an inch of a smile on her face.
“You idiot! Don’t ever do that again!” She hits his chest with her fists. “I just got you back, I’m not going to lose you again.” She continues to hit his chest. “I will chain you to my ankle if that will keep you from leaving me again.” She cries, collapsing into his arms, her head buried in his chest.
He wraps his arms around her. “I’m sorry.” His voice is soft, but she pulls away, glaring at him as she stomps on his foot.
“Ow.” He topples over on his good foot.
Adriel lifts her chin. “Serves you right for leaving.”
“You were all dead asleep when I woke up. I didn’t think you’d miss me in your dreams.”
Adriel purses her lips, crossing her arms. “Well, you were wrong, as usual.” She turns. “Idiot,” she mumbles under her breath. She sits beside Awyn, her face contorted into a snarl.
Kepp walks over to Saine, a smug smile on his face.
“Will you need to sleep with one eye open tonight?” the elf asks, a tight smile on his lips.
Saine rubs his chest. “I always do with that one.” He smirks, turning to face the brightness outside. The sun washes his face with white light, and he breathes deeply.
“After so long in that desert… It feels amazing, this cold,” Saine says.
“Yesterday you had a heart attack or something because of it.” Kepp grasps his friend’s shoulder, and Saine looks at him. “Don’t you ever do that again, almost die like that. I’m supposed to die tragically, then you weep at my grave with a bevy of grieving, jilted ex-lovers.”
Saine sighs mockingly. “Well, that’s every man’s dream.”
Saine pats his friend on the back as he limps back into the cave, leaving Kepp to look out onto the snowy path ahead. Kepp smiles and runs back after his friend.
“Hey, when do you think we’ll arrive at Rohea? It’s on the other side of the country, right?” Kepp asks, hovering over Saine as he puts snow on his wounds. “I don’t want to walk anymore. And what about polar bears and wolves? Don’t they lurk in the mountains of Rohidia? And what about soldiers? Or Revera? The Sanarx? She was planning on letting them free, so what if she has done it already—”
Saine shoves a snowball into Kepp’s mouth.
“Shut up. I’m not ready to die yet.” He smiles, slapping him upside the head.
Kepp rubs his forehead.
Awyn watches the exchange as Adriel bites into chunks of snow. “Is this supposed to be our breakfast?” Adriel asks, looking at the chunk of white in her hand.
“I’ve had worse,” Awyn says as she takes a bite. “But it doesn’t taste too bad. A bit crunchy, but that means it will be more filling.”
Adriel’s brow furrows, but Awyn isn’t about to explain her logic on these matters.
For Adriel, being locked up was like an unpleasant getaway. At least, that’s how Awyn would describe it. She was given enough food and water and wasn’t tortured by Revera. Of course, her freedom had been taken from her, but Awyn can think of a hundred worse things that could happen to a person.
She smiles weakly. Aradon would beg to differ.
Half a day of walking and the sun is high in the cloudless sky, but no heat radiates off its white surface. Though, it could be colder, so they’re grateful. Rohidia is a snow covered plain with mountains around the perimeter of the country. They have passed a few wrecked, tumbled down buildings, but other than that, no sign that humans ever lived here. No animals either.
Though, earlier they had found a few animal furs around a pile of ruins that was probably a house at one time. The outskirts of Rohidia have been completely abandoned, but whoever lived there had left a few things behind. They gave two of the skins to the men for a sort of cape, and Awyn and Adriel added the fur to their makeshift shoes. But even with the extra clothing, they hurt. Saine’s in the worst shape. While his ankle feels a bit better and some of the swelling has gone down, he still has to lean on Kepp to walk, making them the slowest moving of the four.
They don’t know how much longer they will have to travel, but what Awyn does know is that she can’t see the emerald palace of Rohea, so they aren’t even close.
All feeling is numbing now. Her feet no longer ache, probably due to the fact that she’s been walking through snow with barely any covering on her feet. That’s another upside of being an elf. You can last longer in severe conditions. Saine, though…
“When I get to Rohea, I’m going to eat a whole chicken. Glazed with garlic and butter, sprinkled with salt and oregano.” Kepp drools.
Just the thought of food makes Awyn’s stomach clench in sickness.
“Ah, will you stop it,” Saine says, squinting to avoid the sun cast snow. “I’ve had a headache for weeks, partly because I’ve been locked up with you. So will you just shut it.” He sighs, holding his stomach as it audibly growls. “And no more talk of food.”
“I’m more thirsty than hungry,” Awyn says, breathing heavily. “I’ve learned to live without food, but we need water if we’re going to survive.”
“There’s water all around you.” Kepp winces, and Awyn wonders if he’s as hungry as she is.
“Have you ever noticed that you feel thirstier after drinking water from snow?” she asks, looking at him but her feet haven’t stopped moving. Though, she wouldn’t be able to feel it if they did.
The thundering of horses fills her ears, and all at once the group herds together as a score of soldiers gallop up to them, meeting their eyes with the horses’ muzzles. Kepp grab
s hold of Awyn’s wrist and pulls her a bit behind him, Saine doing the same with Adriel.
“Who travels in the king’s lands during war and winter?”
They don’t answer, Awyn can hear them all wondering what the right answer will be to get the soldiers to let them free without a scratch.
“Speak!” the soldier on the fawn horse commands, the green plume of his bronze helmet swaying gently in the wind.
“We come to see the king,” Awyn says, but Kepp just tightens his grip on her wrist.
“What business do you have with him?”
“There’s a war going on, is there not? I come here offering information on the sorceress.”
“What information could an aggrieved elf have on Revera that is so great to risk the winters of Rohidia in nothing but a cotton slip and a ragged skin?”
“I come from Nethess.”
The soldier’s gaze pierces her, and he dismounts, walking toward them with such a steady stare she wants to shrink behind her brother. She’s weak, cold, and hungry, and her fear is unsteady.
“You come from Nethess? The hot desert of Asgoreth is no forgiving place, how did you come out alive?”
“It’s no secret. We carried one another if we were down, and when we were up we never rested until our feet couldn’t carry us any farther.”
He lifts his head. “Who are you?”
Awyn goes to speak but Kepp stops her.
“I am Kepp, son of the Elven Lord Rowan. This man here is Saine, whom is not equipped with elf healing and blood to withstand such treatment we have gone through. He needs medicine. This is Adriel, daughter of Lord Aiocille of Eron and Radian—”
“I know the Elven lords of whom you speak. But tell me who this young white face is?”
“That is no one, only another victim of the tower.”
He tilts his head, scanning the group with suspicion, curiosity, and authority. Awyn’s just impressed he saw her true face behind the dirt and dried blood. After a moment, he sighs.
“Very well. We shall take you to the king.” He gestures to a soldier and one dismounts, handing them all coats and offering two horses.