by P. M. Biswas
Gimme, Tam said, even though her traitorous mouth only produced, “Grm.”
The lip of a goblet was pressed against her lips, and sweet nirvana flowed into her mouth, a cold rush of indescribable relief. She let out a garbled moan.
Before Tam could thank her helper, her brain decided that this was the optimal time to take the scenic route back to oblivion.
She went under with a tiny burp.
NALA WAS sitting by Tam’s bedside when Tam reawakened. Whoever had been crying before, it couldn’t have been Nala; she was as expressionless as a plank of wood. She fit right into the décor, which was yet more planks of wood, topped with the twining branches overhead that were typical of elvish ceilings. If Tam wasn’t mistaken, she was back in Emeraude’s elf-issued chambers.
“You are awake,” Nala said noncommittally. “The prince told us that you had returned to the corporeal realm.” She hesitated. “It is good to have you back.”
Tam blinked. Repeatedly. “Um,” she said, grateful that her voice was cooperating with her again and wasn’t just an indecipherable croak. “I’m fairly sure I’m still dead if you’re expressing joy at me being alive.”
“Not joy.” Nala folded her arms mulishly. “Studied indifference.”
“So you had to study to be indifferent to me? That’s progress.” Tam reflected. “Or I’m dead.”
“You are not dead.”
“But I was?”
“Briefly.”
“How briefly?”
Nala seemed reluctant to tell her—but, being Nala, she didn’t spare anyone the facts. “Eight weeks.”
“Eight weeks?” Tam was appalled. “It felt more like eight minutes. Eight very cozy minutes.” Tam shifted in bed, clammy in her bedclothes. “Did I mention I miss the afterlife? It was very comfortable. No complaints whatsoever. Top-notch accommodation.”
“Why don’t you go back to it, if you like it that much?” Nala snapped sourly.
“Aw, you missed me. Just confess that you missed me.”
“I missed you,” Nala said impassively. And then she just… sat there. As expressionless as ever.
Tam’s words got all jumbled up in her mouth. “You—did you just—” She floundered. “Is this a prank? Did Loren dare you to do this? Although he’s not the sort who’d dare anyone. Not even himself.”
“I did miss you.” Nala shrugged. “It is the truth.”
“Holy gods,” Tam breathed. “It’s just like the saying goes. The truth is stranger than fiction.”
“It is not so strange. I missed your pointless chattering and your frequent attempts to get me to kill you.”
“I wasn’t attempting to get you to kill me. You just wanted to kill me. All on your own.”
“Perhaps.” Nala studied her fingernails. “You will be glad to hear that Seer Soma is in excellent health. She visits the Pool of Healing daily to restore her vitality, but she is almost as she was before.”
“You bet I’m glad!” Tam beamed. She’d successfully brought down only the north side of the mountain, then. And Loren was skipping about telling people of her legendary return from the dead, so he must be healthy too. “Did I squash Danis’s army like bugs?”
At that, a real emotion darted across Nala’s face—pleasure. “Yes. Like bugs. Twitching, sticky bugs.”
“Were they all buried in the landslide?”
“All but a few stragglers. I went back with my Sentinels afterward to finish them off.”
“Yes!” Tam pumped her fist victoriously. “That should set Danis back by months, if not a year.”
“Aye,” Nala concurred. “The pass is permanently barred. It will be impossible for Danis to breach Mount Zivan even after he does recoup his forces. The only access to Astaris will now be via the sea, and shipping his legions to us will delay Danis’s invasion by many months more, in addition to the months it takes him to assemble a new military. By then, we’ll be ready for him.”
“We?” Tam smirked. “What an improvement that is to our team morale! Congratulations on overcoming your xenophobia.”
Nala leveled Tam with a flat gaze. “Congratulations on overcoming your death.”
“Thanks! And you’re right about Danis. The greedy bugger sent his whole army to us so he could conquer us in one fell swoop. He planned to take us like he took Axenborg—raze us to our foundations, slaughter us all, convert us into his mindless slaves, and use us to pursue his conquest of the world. But we kicked his arse, didn’t we? Let’s see how fast the bastard can conjure up more undead soldiers.” Tam spat on the sheets. “May Astar curse him.”
“It would be handier if your god did more than just curse him,” Nala observed. “Totally annihilating him would be more helpful.”
Tam smacked the bed enthusiastically. “You know what? That’s an excellent idea. I’ll bring up the issue with Astar when I pray to Him. Maybe He’ll listen.”
“Maybe? He’s rather unreliable for a god.”
“Gods are unreliable. That’s what makes them gods. You can’t hold them accountable, but they can hold you accountable.”
Nala frowned. “That is unjust.”
“So is life. Anyway!” Tam continued cheerfully. Now that she’d been raised from the dead, she was unflappable. Who wouldn’t be? “So what happened to the Stone? Do you not have an Earthstone, after I blew it to smithereens?”
“Do not flatter yourself, human,” Nala said archly. “There is little you can do to extinguish that which is timeless. The Seers and the Stones are extensions of nature, and thus, they are eternal. Much like a new Seer is born upon the passing of the previous Seer, a new Earthstone is formed whenever the previous Stone is demolished. It grows out of the earth at the center of the Wanderwood, fed by the energies of the forest itself.”
“Lucky Stone, I guess.” Tam plucked at her sheets. “And lucky me. Why am I alive? Shouldn’t I be dead? Very, very dead?”
“You were. I believe I mentioned that.”
“But you didn’t give me an explanation! I need an explanation.”
Nala sighed, as if further exposition was beyond her. “I shall depart and send in the prince, instead. Conversing with you is giving me a headache.”
“You smooth talker, you.”
Nala ignored her. “The prince’s vigil has been unremitting for these eight weeks. He has slept and woken by your bed every day and every night since we brought you back. Not for an hour has he left your side.”
“Yeah?” Tam’s eyes darted around. There was a rumpled mattress on the floor; that must be where Loren had been sleeping. “So where is he now?”
“Recovering.”
“Recovering? From what?”
“From your resurrection.”
“I wasn’t aware my resurrection was so heinous an occurrence that it required recovering from.”
“You do not comprehend the bond,” Nala said. “You do not comprehend its depth, nor what it can do to a soul when its other half is torn away from it.”
“Shouldn’t he be rejoicing that I’m back, then?”
“Joy is a complicated sentiment. In times like these, it is two parts grief.” Nala’s mouth twisted. “And one part rage.”
“You…. It’s like you have a complex understanding of emotions!” Tam exclaimed. “Who are you and what have you done with my beloved Sentinel Nala?”
“Be… belove….” Nala shot up from her chair like Tam had chucked a scorpion at her. “I am going. The prince will be in shortly.”
Nala escaped like the hounds of hell were after her. No sooner had she exited the door than Loren came in, looking very un-Loren-y. Tam couldn’t describe it, but he was… off, somehow. Not like himself.
“Loren! You’re safe!” Tam greeted him happily, then examined him. Closely. Loren’s ever-present veneer of perfection was markedly ruffled, and the luster of his magic was dimmed. When he saw Tam, he didn’t even smile. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” Loren said blankly and sat on the very
chair Nala had just vacated. His eyes were bloodshot.
“Have you been crying?”
“No.”
“Well, you’ve either tossed pepper into your eyes or you’ve been crying. Speaking of which, weren’t you crying continuously during the Earthstone ritual? And wasn’t it you I heard crying when I woke up? Tsk, tsk, noble prince. Where is your dignity?”
“In the grave,” Loren said. There was still that strangeness to him, that blankness, his movements rigid and lacking their customary grace. It was how a man with a deep wound would move—stiffly, tensely, cautiously. But there were no wounds on Loren that Tam could see. “Where you used to be.”
“Metaphorically, I hope? You didn’t actually bury me, did you?”
“No, Tam, we didn’t bury you.”
“Then why are you acting like you did?”
Loren said nothing. He was just so… different. His body was strung with tension, curving in on itself as if bracing for a blow. What was he so guarded against? It was like he was terrified that Tam might attack him. Which was bizarre. It had been easier talking to Nala. And that was saying something.
After several minutes of stewing in an inexplicable silence, Loren dug his hands into his pockets and extracted handfuls of round, red, glossy fruit, which he deposited in a leaf-shaped bowl by Tam’s bed.
Tam’s stomach grumbled. She was so hungry. Nay, she was starving. “Are those actual cherries?”
“They certainly aren’t imaginary ones,” Loren said tightly.
Tam peered at him. “Are you annoyed with me, or what? Because you aren’t your usual self.”
“Annoyed? Annoyed?” Loren exploded suddenly, lunging forward and wringing the blankets on Tam’s bed like they had personally offended him. Tam leaned back, startled. “And what is my usual self? The simpering, useless fool who was left holding your corpse?”
“My….” Tam gulped. “Corpse? Er. How… how did you… bring me back?”
“You lost your life. Only my bond pulled it back into you. But at a price.”
“What price?” Tam counted her limbs, checking that they were all there. They were. “Am I intact?”
“You are.”
Tam’s heart dropped, like a penny into a bottomless well. “But you aren’t.”
“That’s not—” Loren huffed. “—that’s not why I’m angry. That’s not what bothers me. What bothers me is that you, despite being a human who could easily have avoided taking on the Stone, deliberately put yourself in the path of its destruction. Why did you do it?”
“Weren’t you about to do the same? If I hadn’t stopped you….”
“If you hadn’t stopped me, I’d be dead. Yes. But I’m an elf. For an elf to sacrifice himself to the Earthstone is right and proper.”
Tam rolled her eyes. “Oh, blast your ‘right and proper.’ You’re my friend, I couldn’t have let you—”
“Friend?” Loren said keenly. “Wasn’t I naught but a comrade?”
“I’d do it for a comrade too! It’s not virtuous to lie back and let a comrade die for you if you can stop it.”
“Not if you can die instead?” The anger seemed to desert Loren all at once, and he hunched. Tam noticed how worn out he was, his immaculate appearance roughened by fatigue, his clothing creased, his ordinarily flawless hair in disarray. And there was that stiffness to him, that wounded stiffness, which was beginning to scare Tam the more she saw of it.
“What happened to you?” Tam asked quietly. “What price did you pay?”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Loren said after a while, almost guiltily. “I did it all on my own. It was practically unavoidable, given that I was bonded to you. If you hadn’t offered yourself in my stead, I’d be dead altogether. At least with this, I’ll live.”
“At least with what?” Tam demanded, panic thinning out her breaths. By Astar, she hated being alive. It came with all these feelings, feelings she’d figured she was over with. “Loren. Just tell me. Or I’ll beat it out of you in a sparring session.”
“You’re banned from sparring—or any other physical activity—for another fortnight. You’ve been comatose, Tam. You have to heal from it, because if you don’t—”
“Right, yes, I’ll heal from it! But what about you? What can’t you heal from?”
Loren shuffled in his chair like he was nervous. He looked down at the floor, and then up at the ceiling, and then across at the cherries in the bowl. Anywhere but at Tam. “I’m not immortal anymore,” he mumbled.
The announcement rang within Tam like a gong. A horrible queasiness roiled in her. “What?”
“That’s why I… that’s why we could both live. You offered most of your life force, which was why you were momentarily dead—and, after that, in a slumber that lasted eight weeks. I could only counterbalance your sacrifice with mine. I could only compensate for pulling you back from the edge by offering some life force of my own.”
“And the Stone claimed your immortality.”
“It was an equitable exchange,” Loren said as convincingly as he could. “Two lives were offered, so the Stone took half of each. It took enough from you to send you into a coma and most of your organs into failure, and enough from me to render me mortal. Since then, I’ve become like you. You can die of injury, accident, and disease, and now, so can I. It’s only fair, if you think about it.”
“If I think about it? I don’t want to think about it! Is that why you’re moving like an old man? Because having your immortality ripped away from you hurts just that much?”
“Having you ripped away from the bond hurt worse. Now that you’re back and awake, I’m improving. Losing my immortality isn’t that much of a deal.”
“That much of a—” Tam almost exploded, herself. “You could’ve lived a thousand years, like Soma, but now you may scarcely live for ten! What if you get the pox and vomit yourself to death? What if you get poisoned by a mysterious jungle berry and perish while frothing at the mouth?”
Loren paled. “Thank you for that reassuring imagery.”
“No problem.” Tam sulked. “Welcome to mortality.”
“To put a positive spin on things,” Loren said optimistically, after visibly marshaling his reserves, “I won’t outlive you. Not by a lot.”
That was a positive spin? It only succeeded in being morbid. “I wanted you to outlive me.”
“Too bad. Because I won’t.” Loren fiddled with the hem of his tunic. “You’re correct about why I look weary. I’m still recuperating from the loss of my immortality—and the temporary loss of my bondmate. It’s made a dent in my magic. But I’m on the mend, I swear. And so are you. We’ll be fine.”
“Sayeth the elf who traded his immortality for a casual sparring partner.”
“No.” Loren was painfully earnest. “For a friend.”
Tam threw her head back against her pillow and glared up at the leafy roof. “Why couldn’t you have just let me toddle off to the underworld? It’s nice down there! I’ve been there! I know!”
“I couldn’t let you die exactly because of why you couldn’t let me die. Because of our friendship.”
“No,” Tam contradicted him, “because of our bond. You said it yourself. If it hadn’t been for the bond—”
“If it hadn’t been for the bond,” Loren said stubbornly, “you’d still be the oaf who sparred with me during peace negotiations. You’d still be the blockhead who volunteered for a suicide mission and then swapped your life for mine. You’d still be you, Tam. And I’d still—” Loren cut himself off. “Never mind. Did Nala tell you that the Seer is regaining her strength?”
It was a blatant change of subject, but given that they were getting nowhere with the current subject, Tam permitted Loren the evasion. Besides, bickering like brats wouldn’t appease her. Tam wouldn’t be satisfied until she was out of bed and trouncing Loren in that promised spar. “She did. What of Queen Emeraude? Has she returned to her fortress? I doubt she can afford shunning her kingdom for eight weeks, espec
ially not in the midst of a war, and especially not with Kay as regent. By now, Kay must’ve made it mandatory for every citizen to read two hundred pages of an encyclopedia a day. He must be on the brink of getting assassinated.”
“I have not been apprised of Prince Kay’s political reputation, only that he is arranging an expedition to the Wanderwood to see you. As for your queen, it is as you say. She has long since taken her delegation back to her palace. She has asked for regular missives about your condition to be delivered to her, however, and has decreed that you are to be escorted to the palace after you have healed. Or you may ride back, if you prefer.”
“Eh, if Maple will have me. I’ve nearly died so often that she might prefer a rider with a lengthier lifespan.” Tam glowered at Loren. “Because of your tomfoolery, that rider can’t be you. Your lifespan’s like mine now.”
“I beg to differ. You’re still more likely to go leaping off the nearest cliff than I am.”
“Ha! I’ve already made a cliff crumble, remember?” Tam flexed her biceps. “I’m far mightier than any rock formation.”
Loren snorted. “You weren’t that mighty when you were dead.”
“And what a sojourn into nothingness that was. Memorable in the extreme.”
Now that the conversation had been steered into calmer waters, Tam did what she’d been yearning to do all along—she snatched some cherries from the bowl on the bedside table and shoved them into her mouth.
“Mmm.” Tam closed her eyes in ecstasy. The cherries must be magical, because they didn’t have any pits. As if that wasn’t convenient enough, they’d been stripped of their stems, which meant there was no work involved in devouring them. They were just bite after bite of pure bliss—tart, juicy, and divine.
There was a weird lull. Tam couldn’t discern why it was weird, but when she opened her eyes, Loren was staring at her.
“Whaff?” she said around her mouthful of cherries, her cheeks stuffed like a squirrel’s. Juice dribbled down her chin.