She nodded and rubbed a few more tears away with the palm of her hand. She did believe it. The only alternative was accepting that her brother was going to die, and that was something she simply couldn’t do. Not yet. Not ever.
If there was even a sliver of a chance to save Tyrus, she had to go after it. Even if that meant leaving him alone in some of the darkest moments of his life.
Valkyra woke Aleida early the next morning, and they made preparations to leave. Now that she’d decided her best course of action, Aleida was anxious to get moving again. They still had a long way to go around the desert, and she didn’t want Amar getting too far ahead of them once he and his friends reached the other side.
She was saddling the horse when Hasan came outside. He crossed his arms and watched her with a disapproving scowl but didn’t say anything. Like Aleida, he was stubborn, and he must have known it would be pointless to try to talk her into staying now that her mind was made up.
“Did you at least take some food from my larder?” he asked.
She shook her head. “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll be fine.”
He clicked his tongue. “I refuse to let you leave my house with an empty stomach or an empty pack. Come. We can fill your bags while breakfast is cooking, and then you’ll sit and have a proper meal with us before you go.”
She followed him back inside the house without protest. Tyrus was up and sitting in a chair by the window, his blond hair still sticking out in wild tufts like he’d just climbed out of bed. “You weren’t going to ditch me without saying goodbye, were you?” he asked.
“Of course not. I’m only getting ready.” She smiled and ruffled his hair the same way she used to when he was younger. He swatted her hand away.
Hasan set about making breakfast and began to pull food from his larder. There were round juicy apples and dried apple slices, hard cheeses and breads he’d baked himself, salted pork and fish caught fresh from the river. It was enough food to last Aleida several weeks. He divided them into piles for her and wrapped them up in paper and cloth, giving her instructions about what needed to be eaten soonest before it went bad and what could wait a while. By the time they had packed everything away, her pack and the horse’s saddlebags were full to bursting.
They ate a hearty breakfast of buckwheat pancakes and honey-sweetened apples. Aleida tried not to focus her attention too much on the way Tyrus’ hands trembled as he raised bites of food to his mouth. He ate everything he was given and even took seconds, so at least his appetite hadn’t failed him yet.
She eyed his bony legs and the collarbones jutting above the neck of his shirt. How could he be so thin if he was really eating enough? Was he only trying to keep up appearances now for her sake, or was the disease simply stripping his body of all useful nutrients?
They sat around the table and talked for a while after breakfast, until the itch to continue her journey became overwhelming and Aleida stood up to leave. “I should get going.”
“Already?” Tyrus slid himself forward in his chair and motioned for Hasan to help him up.
“You don’t need to get up.” She took a step toward him but stopped as Hasan came around to his side.
The Tarja put one of his own burly shoulders beneath Tyrus’ and raised him to his feet. “It’s time for him to begin his studies for the day anyway. And fresh air is almost as good as any healing magic.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” Tyrus said, “but I enjoy it anyway.”
They all walked out into the sun together, and Aleida turned to her brother. “Take care of yourself, all right?”
“Isn’t that what Hasan’s here for?”
“Well then don’t give him a hard time,” she said, nudging Tyrus in the ribs. “Do what he says, and try to keep up your strength until I get back.”
“I’ll take good care of him,” Hasan said.
“I know you will.” She ignored the tightness in her chest and put her arms around Tyrus’ shoulders. “I’m sorry. I wish I could stay longer.”
He raised his free arm to wrap around her back. “I know.”
“I’ll return as soon as I can, I promise. I’ll make you well again, and everything will go back to normal. You just have to be strong a little longer, all right? You have to keep fighting. You can do that for me, can’t you?”
“I promise,” he said.
She held him tighter, unwilling to let go. What if this was the last time she got to hug him like this? “I’m so proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too,” he mumbled. “But you’re squeezing me to death.”
She forced herself to pull away and turned to Hasan. “Thank you for everything.” There weren’t enough words to express the depth of her gratitude, but someday, she hoped she’d find a way to show him how much she appreciated all he’d done for her and Tyrus. “May Artex bless your life with his most wondrous creations.”
“Go in harmony, Aleida,” he responded, dipping his head to her. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
With an old, familiar weight on her shoulders, Aleida turned, mounted her horse, and steered him toward the road that would lead her south to Atrea. She didn’t permit herself to look back.
24
Kesari
Saya roused Kesari and the others early the next morning. She had already refilled their water stores and went to load everything onto Berna’s back while the others readied themselves to leave Hayathu. When they exited their tent, she was saying goodbye to each of her brothers. Some of the younger ones clung to her, whining what Kesari could only assume were pleas for her to stay. Two of the older ones managed to pry the twins away long enough for Saya to walk to where her mother stood, watching the lively, noisy interactions between her children with serene repose.
Saya looked tense as she approached the Masahi, but she’d barely gotten a few words out when her mother threw her arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. Saya’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment, then she put her own arms around the woman. When they parted, the Masahi brushed a few strands of Saya’s hair behind her ear, her eyes shining with tears. They exchanged some final words before Saya turned and nodded resolutely to Kesari and the others. It was time to leave.
The boys lined up to give her a final embrace, and Kesari’s heart thrummed with a melancholy pang as she watched them. There was so much love evident between them, an entire lifetime of memories and laughter, fights and reconciliations, shared experiences and shared blood.
A family that was whole—something Kesari had once had.
They walked away, leaving Hayathu behind to finish their long trek south across the desert. Saya never turned back, but Kesari did, and even when they had gone a fair distance, she could still see six figures standing in the sand, watching their sister grow smaller and smaller against the horizon.
“Is everything all right?” Lucian asked as she turned back to face the landscape ahead.
Kesari nodded and attempted to force a smile onto her face.
“Then why do you look so sad?”
“It’s nothing.”
Lucian drifted a little closer to her ear and spoke softly. “Your family is waiting for you, too, you know.”
“My family is better off without me.”
She had repeated the words to herself so many times they barely sounded real anymore. The conviction behind them, however, was still very real. She had broken her family. They would never be whole again, and no matter how much she missed them or how many times Lucian reminded her they must be waiting for her, she could not allow herself to go back.
It took them another three weeks to reach Atrea, by which time Kesari had developed a painful sunburn despite her best efforts to prevent it. The landscape had slowly begun to change during their last two days of travel, until they found themselves in the grassy plains and milder weather that characterized much of western Atrea.
Saya found the road again, and they changed out of their desert clothing into
more comfortable attire. Kesari took to wearing Rajiv’s worn blue coat again, reveling in its comforting weight against her shoulders. A few short days later, they reached the town of Malfram, where Jameson Weatherford reportedly lived.
At the first signs that they were nearing civilization, Lucian retreated back into his lantern. Tarja were uncommon enough in Atrea, let alone Bonded Tarja and Spirit Tarja pairs. Before leaving home, Kesari wouldn’t have minded the extra attention their uniqueness drew, but now, she was grateful for Lucian’s discretion.
The town had been built at the edge of a lake fed by Atrea’s largest river. Most of the buildings were made of wood and brick, and the roads were hardpacked earth. The people here had pale complexions and dressed in typical Atrean fashion, with women in long, flowing dresses and bonnet hats while the men donned high-collared shirts, tailcoats, and trousers. Several of them stared at the foreign newcomers with quizzical looks as they passed. Other parts of Atrea were more diverse, including Kesari’s hometown of Deveaural, but Malfram generally didn’t see too many travelers or foreigners.
They found a small inn at the edge of town, and the innkeeper was willing to trade them a hot meal, two rooms, and some coin for Berna, who would no longer be needed now that their travels through the desert had ended. Saya kissed the donkey on the nose and patted her cheek before handing the reins over to the innkeeper.
“Ask him about Jameson,” Mitul said to Kesari. She was the only one of them who spoke Atrean and had now become a translator for the others.
She turned to the innkeeper. “We’re looking for a Tarja, Jameson Weatherford. We were told he lives here in Malfram somewhere. Have you heard of him?”
The man’s eyes immediately brightened. “Oh, yes! The Great and Honorable Wizard Jameson. He’s very famous around here. Or rather, he’s our town’s claim to fame. He was born and raised right next door to my grandmother, you know. She used to take care of him sometimes when he was a boy. The stories she could tell you about all the mischief he got up to.” He chuckled a little and shook his head.
“What’s he saying?” Amar asked impatiently.
Kesari ignored him and continued her conversation with the innkeeper. “Do you know where he lives now?”
“Sure. The king sent for him himself, asked him to come to Deveaural and serve the crown. He’s been there for over a year now.”
“Oh.” Kesari’s last hopes shattered like glass. They’d come all this way, through the forests of Kavora and the scorching Sularan desert, only to learn that the man they were seeking lived in the one place in Atrea she couldn’t go.
“What did he say?” Amar asked, more insistently this time.
“He’s not here,” she answered numbly. “He moved to Deveaural.”
Amar’s expression shifted to match her own disappointment. Kesari turned back to the innkeeper, thanked him again for the room and the hot meal, and followed the others out of the stables.
“I’m sorry,” Mitul said, putting a hand on Amar’s shoulder. “It’s frustrating, but Deveaural’s not much farther. Right, Kesari?”
“No. Probably a week’s journey, and the road is easy.”
“See?” Mitul said brightly. “We’re almost there, and we’ve got a good guide. We’ll have our answers soon enough.”
Kesari dug her toe into the dirt. “Actually, I don’t think I’ll be going the rest of the way with you.”
“What?” Amar snapped. “Why not?”
“I can’t.” She wished Lucian would back her up, but he remained silent in his lantern, black eyes peering up at her through the glass.
“I thought you were from Deveaural. Don’t you know the way?”
“Yes, but…I don’t want to go back there.”
“Kes,” Mitul said gently, “I don’t know why you left home, but whatever the reason, we can help you face it. You’ve done so much for us already, and we’ll do whatever we can for you. We need you. Won’t you take us the rest of the way?”
Kesari’s heart began to gallop as a wave of dizziness spread from inside her skull and through the rest of her body. Her mouth felt thick, her breaths constricted by a sudden tightness in her throat. She could smell smoke. It filled up her lungs, the heat from a fire pressing against her skin.
“I’m not—” She backed away from the others. “You’ll be fine without me. I’m sorry.” She turned, headed for the inn, and was inside and up the stairs before she even fully registered what she was doing. Once inside her and Saya’s room, she slammed the door behind her.
Still fighting off waves of breathless panic, she sank to the floor. Lucian floated out of his lantern as a tiny spark and hovered in front of her face. He expanded to his usual size, constricted back down, and expanded again. “Breathe, Kesari,” he said softly. “Just breathe.”
She did, timing her inhales with his expansions and her exhales with his constrictions. Safe. She was safe. There was nothing here that could hurt her. The fire, the smoke, the screams—it was only a memory. Something that had happened a long time ago. Her fault, but there was nothing to be done about that now.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
It took several repetitions of this before she felt like she’d regained some control, the panic ebbing away until it was a whisper in her mind rather than a deafening scream.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Lucian asked.
She did, and she didn’t. She knew talking about it would help, but she could already guess what Lucian would tell her. Maybe she needed to hear it, but she didn’t want to.
She gave a resigned sigh. “Being this close to home already felt wrong. But going to Deveaural—how am I supposed to do that?”
“How are you supposed to keep running from it for the rest of your life?” Lucian countered gently.
“I’m not running. I’m just not ready yet.”
He drifted a little closer to her. “I think you are ready, and I think you know that. You’re scared, but it’s normal to be scared, Kes. Fear doesn’t mean you can’t do something, it only makes it a little harder.”
He didn’t understand. She shook her head and pulled Rajiv’s coat tighter around herself. “I know what you want me to do. You think if I go back there and face what I did, then maybe I won’t want to break our Bond anymore, and everything will go back to the way it was supposed to be.” Her words came out in a heated, hateful rush, scalding her throat. But she didn’t care. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s all you care about.”
Lucian was silent for a few seconds, his dark eyes solemn as he stared at her. Kesari stared back, warring internally with herself. She shouldn’t have been so harsh with him, but she was so angry. At him, but mostly at herself.
“Even I’m not foolish enough to believe it could ever be so simple,” Lucian said at last. “All I want is for you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” she snarled.
“Are you?”
She didn’t answer him. Of course she wasn’t happy, not truly. She hadn’t been for a long time. How was anyone supposed to be happy after what she’d done, what she’d lost?
“What was it you told Tamaya you wanted from breaking our Bond?”
It took her a few moments to remember. “Peace,” she murmured.
“Peace,” he echoed. “Maybe that will come from breaking our Bond, and maybe it will come from facing your fears and your family. But either way, you’ll have to go to Deveaural to find that peace.”
“I don’t have to do anything.”
“You don’t, but what’s the alternative?”
She sighed. He was probably right, as usual. Avoiding her past these last two years had brought her only superficial comfort. She needed more than that, which meant she needed to put the past to rest for good. The only way to do that was to break her Bond with Lucian.
Her heart wrenched sharply. Breaking the Bond could mean that Lucian would die—for good this time—and she still wasn’t sure she could handle being responsible for that, even
if he was technically dead already. But she at least wanted to know what her options were, and for that, she needed Jameson.
Maybe going to Deveaural wouldn’t be so bad. She didn’t have to visit her family, after all. She could avoid her old neighborhood and the places her parents and sister frequented. Deveaural was a big city, with plenty of room for her to blend in and avoid being seen if she wished. It would be fine.
“All right,” she said resolutely. “We’ll go with them.”
The others were pleased when Kesari told them over dinner that she’d decided to accompany them after all. Amar asked what had made her change her mind, but he left the issue alone when Lucian shot him a look through his lantern. Neither Saya nor Mitul questioned her about it further, much to Kesari’s relief.
They left Malfram the next morning. The east-west road that led to Deveaural was wide and well-kept, and they encountered a few other travelers along the way. Lucian spent most of his time in the lantern, though Kesari still spoke to him when there was no one else around. She was more talkative with the others as well, trying to distract herself from the growing disquiet building up within her the closer they got to home. If she thought about it too much, her pulse raced and her breaths became shallow, but Lucian was always there to calm her. A few times, she was half tempted to turn around, but she forced her feet to keep moving, one step at a time.
The journey passed without incident, and after a week, Deveaural came into view over the rise of a hill. A wide expanse of buildings stretched across the horizon with the blue sea gleaming behind them. Many had been built of white stone from a nearby quarry, giving the city a shining glow in the high noon sun. Other structures were made of wood, cut from the forest that pressed against Deveaural’s edges right up to the beach. A patchwork of fields extended around the outskirts of the city, melding into the fringes of the forest.
Tethered Spirits Page 21