“What do you mean?”
Sella handed one end of the rope to her. “Here, pull this tight.” Reba did so, and Sella asked, “Did you think changing the world would be peaceful? Time to grow a thicker skin, Reba. What you should be upset about is that Yamah may have ruined any hope we had of getting your friend Tavi on our side. And now we’ll be hunted down by authorities, because the murder of an innocent woman won’t be ignored. You heard Tavi’s screams; she saw you. In one moment of stupidity, Yamah may have ruined everything. That’s what should make you angry.”
At that, it was as if a barrier inside Reba shattered. She raised her voice to a full-throated yell that echoed inside the enclosed, wooden space. “Why was he with us?” she asked, throwing down the rope. “Why was this half-witted goon with us at all?”
The wagon hit a particularly bumpy portion of road, and the rope slipped out of Sella’s hands. She gathered both ends, which were bouncing as if alive, and worked to continue tying them. Finally, she answered, “Konner insisted we bring him with us.”
“Konner?”
“Ash was going to lead this expedition. He’s been training with Konner for long enough to have some good fighting skills, and with his quick hands, he could have easily grabbed Tavi. But Ash is weak. Konner didn’t think he’d follow through. He hired Yamah instead.”
“Konner?” Reba asked again.
“Yes, even the master strategist gets it wrong sometimes. He did get one thing right; Yamah is gifted.”
“I haven’t seen him use magic.”
“He’s got a scent gift. It allows him to smell even the tiniest bit of rot in food.”
Reba’s face screwed up in confusion. “How is that supposed to help us?”
“His gift is useless. But Konner figured Tavi could kill Yamah and take his breath to get her gray awakening.” Sella raised her eyebrows at Reba. “You’re just sitting there. I need your help to get his feet up to his hands.”
With great effort, they moved Yamah onto his side, and then they yanked on his meaty legs and arms until his hands and feet met. Once done, they wove rope around his wrists and ankles, tying them together. Reba pulled tight when Sella told her to, and soon they were confident Yamah couldn’t get out of his bonds even if he had a year to try.
They drank more of their water stores than they should have. Reba couldn’t stop thinking about how Misty had looked with her neck torn open by Yamah’s knife. Tears filled her eyes.
Sella gave her a look of contempt. “What’s wrong now?”
“It seems so pointless, Misty being killed.”
“It’s a pointless world. You can’t get stuck on one thing that went wrong.”
“But this one thing could have been prevented,” Reba insisted. “We could have gone without Yamah. Ash could have come instead. I would have found Tavi, and we would have taken her back to Savala. This all happened because Konner didn’t trust us—not just Ash, but all of us.”
Sella’s eyes were hard. “Konner does some stupid things, but he’s got the money and influence to give us power. Or to take it away. Remember that, Reba.”
With that, Sella lay her head on a bag of supplies and closed her eyes.
“This isn’t what I wanted,” Reba pled. “This isn’t who I wanted to be.”
Sella responded by turning on her side, her back to Reba. The message was clear: Nobody cares. It’s too late.
Reba settled herself near a corner of the bouncing wagon, watching the unconscious man in front of her. This isn’t what I wanted. It was the biggest understatement she’d ever made. She’d started to regret her decision within days of leaving home with Ash, Aldin, and Narre. When they’d realized how weak her sight gift was, their interest in her magic had quickly waned. They’d said the most useful thing she could do was tell them about her friends. Especially Tavi.
She’d felt like a stupid little girl, an idiot who’d been drawn from home by two strangers with handsome faces and honeyed words. So she’d tried to smother her regret with cooperation, telling the two men everything they wanted to know, attempting to recapture the respect they’d given her when she’d first met them in Oren.
When they’d all arrived in Savala, Konner had tasked Sella with taking Reba to get her gray awakening. After making it clear that she found the responsibility beneath her, Sella led Reba to a small town in the middle of nowhere, a place Ash and Aldin had visited. A sick, elderly, sun-blessed man was there, seemingly waiting to give his final breath to Reba.
But when it was time, Reba froze up. She told Sella she couldn’t kill someone. Sella reminded Reba how wonderful it would be to live without resistance, even saying gray magic would be Sava’s reward for putting the man out of his misery. At last, Reba shuttered her guilt and misgivings and achieved her gray awakening.
Again, regret hit hard and fast. Sure, she didn’t have to worry about resistance anymore, but her pitiful quantities of strength, tolerance, and control were unchanged, and her gift was still of limited use. The biggest difference was that magic was now painful, sometimes even excruciating. And that meant she hardly ever used it.
She’d finally felt useful when Konner had sent her on this trip. She could lead the team to all the places Tavi typically visited. When the team took Tavi, Reba would be the hero. And she never would have admitted it aloud, but she was looking forward to spending time with her old friend. Reba would get the companionship she craved. Tavi would help the Grays achieve their goals.
And then the trip, so full of promise, had turned into a horror story. How could it have gone so wrong?
The wagon turned onto a smoother road. Reba leaned against a sack of oats they’d brought for the horses. She didn’t feel tired, but before she knew it, her eyes were closed, and she was dreaming of knives, kerchiefs, and home.
Chapter Five
Years after her labor and birth, a woman will recall how you soothed her, how you spoke to her, how you touched her. We speak of birth as being one of the greatest joys of a woman’s life, and it often is. However, before the joy comes pain, and we always remember how others treat us when we are in pain.
-From Midwifery: A Manual for Practical and Karian Midwives by Ellea Kariana
“Take me to her!” Tavi screamed.
“Officer Andisis, your father, and Uncle Shem are getting her.” Tavi’s mother’s voice remained quiet, but it didn’t have its customary calming effect on Tavi.
“I can heal her!” Tavi cried, for what must have been the twentieth time.
Tullen held both her shoulders, brought his face close to hers, and didn’t speak until she met his eyes. “It’s too late, Tavi.” His eyes were swollen and red. “It was too late as soon as it happened. No one could have healed her.”
“But I want to see her!”
“You don’t need to see that again.” Tullen barely got the words out through a fresh sob.
Tavi stopped screaming; it was time to try pleading. “Please, I have to try. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t.”
“It’s too late,” Tullen said again.
Tavi cried out, the roar of a wounded animal, and jerked away from him. She ran to her room, slammed the door, and threw herself on her bed, sobbing the same word over and over: “No! No! No!” After a few minutes, her throat was raw, and her crying slowed to hiccups and occasional sobs. She sat, knees to her chest, and stared at Misty’s bed.
When they returned home and Tullen told Tavi’s family the terrible truth, Tavi’s father had left the house at a sprint. Before long, he returned with Tavi’s Uncle Shem, Officer Andisis, and another safety officer, all of them on horses. Everyone had worried the Grays would come to look for Tavi, but they didn’t. Surely they were fleeing.
Once Tullen had described the people he’d seen in the forest, Officer Andisis quickly organized a search for the Grays. He would search close to home, with help from local volunteers. He’d sent his colleague to Tinawe, the nearest large city, to ask other officers for assistance in ca
nvassing the city and nearby towns.
Tavi was the only one who’d seen the big man without a kerchief. She’d tried to recall what he looked like, but the picture in her head was of a face with grotesque, distorted features, twisted with evil. A true monster. She couldn’t remember the human face she’d seen.
Weeping louder, she put her head down, pressing her face hard against her knees. She heard her door open but didn’t look up.
“Tavi.” Mey finished the word with a sob and sat in front of Tavi, wrapping her arms around her daughter and resting her forehead against Tavi’s shoulder. Their shared grief caused their bodies to tremble against each other in a harsh arrhythmia.
At last, they both calmed. “Tullen wants to come talk to you,” Mey said.
“I don’t want to talk to him.”
“That’s fine.” Mey put her hand on Tavi’s cheek, sweeping her thumb back and forth.
“I’m tired, Mama.” She knew her friends were still out there, and her siblings, and Sall’s brothers. She didn’t want to see any of them.
“I think you should sleep if you can. Would you like me to stay with you for a little while?”
Tavi nodded, tears filling her eyes again. She lay down, and her mother lay behind her, holding her close like she hadn’t done in years.
But Tavi couldn’t sleep.
In the morning, Tavi didn’t want to get up. She must have gotten some sleep; she didn’t remember her mother leaving her bed the night before. But she felt more tired than she ever had, even more than in the days after her awakening.
Tavi looked across the room at Misty’s bed, then at the third bed in the room. Ista lay there, eyes open and haunted. “I can’t believe it,” Ista said. She appeared ready to cry, and Tavi looked away. Before long, Ista dressed and left the room.
An hour later, Mey entered. “I’d like you to come eat some breakfast.”
It was the last thing Tavi wanted, but she was too weary to refuse. She stepped out of bed, and four boxes on the floor caught her eye. Her birthday gifts. She looked away, got dressed, and went into the kitchen.
“Tullen.” She stopped, eyeing him. Why was he there? He didn’t live with them anymore; he lived above the butcher shop where he worked.
Tullen, too, looked tired and sad, but he gave her a small smile. “Have a seat, Tavi.”
She did. “You stayed here?” she asked.
He nodded. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”
Tavi looked at her mother. “He’s sleeping in the sitting room,” Mey said.
“I don’t want you to stay here,” Tavi said. She knew it was rude, but she didn’t have the energy or inclination to be polite.
Tullen’s smile disappeared. “We can talk about it later. Can I get you some toast?”
Tavi nibbled on the toast and choked down a few bites of eggs. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting food again, but the table was full of people insisting she eat.
Tavi caught her father’s eye. “Where is she?”
“She’s at the coroner’s, being prepared for burial.”
The usual strength in her father’s voice was absent. Tavi had heard both him and her mother crying in the middle of the night, three rooms down from hers. Now, his eyes were bloodshot and swollen, and he’d already dropped his fork twice due to his trembling fingers.
Tavi stared at her father, her food forgotten. “But I wanted to see her.”
Tavi’s mother said, “We didn’t think that was a good idea.”
“You should have let me make that decision.”
The table was silent, save the scraping of forks on plates. Tavi stood and returned to her room.
Tullen followed her. Once inside, she sat on her bed, and he sat on the single chair in the room.
“You’re not supposed to be in my room.” Tavi’s parents had strict rules about these things, now that the two of them were “romantically involved,” as Tavi’s father called it.
“I don’t think they’ll mind,” Tullen replied.
More silence fell.
At last, Tullen said, “I’m so sorry.”
“What does that mean?”
Tullen gazed at her for a breath. “I’m sorry Misty is gone. I’m sorry you had to see it. I’m . . . so very sorry, Tavi.”
Tavi nodded. It wasn’t a real apology, then, just a statement of sympathy. “You should have let me go to her when my magic wouldn’t work. They wanted me, not her. You should have let me go.”
Tullen didn’t respond to the accusation. Instead, he took a deep breath and said, “There’s something you need to know. I hope it will help.” He stopped, and when Tavi’s only reply was a stare, he continued, “When we got back from Savala, we agreed—Misty, Sall, Narre, and I—we agreed not to leave you alone in public.”
“I know that.”
“Yes, but that wasn’t all. We agreed to something else.”
“Just tell me.”
“Well, we’re all trying to plan for our fight against the Grays, and your gifts . . . they’re important. Vital, even. So we all committed to doing anything necessary to protect you. Even if it meant giving up our own lives.”
Tavi’s only movement was the blink of her eyelids, which felt as heavy as the top of a wooden trunk. She stared at him for what must have been a full minute. Then her voice came out of her chest, low and harsh. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Misty gave herself willingly. She loved you, Tavi. She did what she did because she wanted to.”
Tavi’s breaths were coming too quickly, and her head felt full of hot, pulsing blood. Three words pushed their way out. “That doesn’t help!”
Tullen spoke slowly, as if she were a child. “She pretended to be you because she wanted to give her life for you. If that was what it took, she wanted it.”
Tavi stood and took one step toward him. And despite the terrible tightness in her throat, her words were shrill and violent. “I didn’t want her to! Doesn’t that matter? Does what I want matter? Because I wanted to save her with my magic. But Sava wouldn’t let me! And then I could have gone to her, but you held me back! I wanted to heal her. But you held me back! Does what I want matter? I want my sister to be here, and she’s dead, and it’s because you held me back!”
Tullen’s face was flushed, and tears escaped his eyes. He reached out a hand, but she stepped out of his reach.
He walked to the door and stopped. “I’m sorry, Tavi.” He left the room, and moments later, she heard the front door open and close.
For the rest of the day, Tavi’s family sat, receiving visitors. Her parents and siblings told story after story of Misty. They cried and laughed, sometimes both at once. Tavi watched them until it was too much, and then she sat alone in her room until that was too much. In her mind, she replayed many scenes of times she’d shared with her sister. But she kept her memories to herself.
Narre and her family were there the whole day. Sall was too. Tullen came back, and he watched her, but they didn’t talk.
Officer Andisis and others canvassed the town and the forest. No one had seen the man, Reba, or the tall woman. There was no sign of them in the forest and no way to know what direction they had gone. They would have to trust the officers from Tinawe, who would send search teams all around the area.
Word was also being sent to Savalan authorities. But the previous autumn, when the Golds had arrived home, Officer Andisis had contacted safety officers in Savala with information on Konner and the Grays, and their investigation into Konner hadn’t uncovered anything suspicious. He was a respected banker, living a normal life. Yes, he owned a farmhouse. A very nice family leased it; they were growing crops and using the barn for its intended purpose. There was no way to track Ash, Sella, and Aldin without their last names. Tavi suspected the law enforcement of Savala didn’t take the residents of tiny Oren seriously.
Surely a murder would be prioritized by investigators. But if the Grays had covered their tracks so well when they’d been kidnappers, t
hey would cover them even more thoroughly as murderers. They won’t be found, Tavi thought. They’re too smart for that.
The next day, Tavi put on her nicest dress. Her mother came in her room and opened the hat box Tullen had given her. If I wear that hat on the day my sister is buried, I’ll never wear it again. Tavi didn’t speak the thought aloud, and she allowed her mother to pin the hat to her hair.
Mey left the room, and Tavi opened her present from Misty. She removed the slim, leather journal and placed it against the skin of her belly, under her dress. She tied one sash under her dress and another on top of it, pulling both tight. When she bent over to put her shoes on, she felt a strange sense of comfort as the corners of the journal dug into her skin.
An hour later, hundreds of people gathered at the graveyard behind the parish hall. A long, polished box was lowered into the ground, and people said and sang many words. One word was repeated over and over, during the service and after: Senniet.
“While this is difficult for us, Misty is full of joy and peace in Senniet.”
“Senniet is our home. In that sweet land / Our loved ones are held in Sava’s hand.”
“I’m so sorry. So sorry. She’s waiting for you in Senniet.”
Tavi accepted the condolences. She allowed herself to be hugged. She cried. And when she thought one more mention of Senniet would cause her to scream, she asked Ista if they could walk home together.
Once they arrived, she entered her room and closed the door. She reached up her skirt and pulled the journal out, wiping the thin coating of sweat off the back of it. She placed it back in its box and sat on her bed, staring out the open window into the bright, summer day.
Chapter Six
RELIN: Every battle is the most important!
-From Relin: A Play in Three Acts by Hestina Arlo
Facing the Gray Page 4