by A. G. Henley
I hope she’s right. She’s taking a big risk with so much undecided between the Sisters and us. But she wants to protect herself and her unborn child, and she’s doing what she thinks is best. I can’t fault her for that.
Amarina and I embrace her one more time, and then we’re escorted out. Peree greets us at the gate, which he tells us is well on its way to being whole again—with their help.
“What did they say when you offered a hand?” I ask, grinning, as he leads us back to our new campsite in the trees. The smoke from the Eternal Flames drifts into my nose as we walk, and I sneeze.
“The Sister in charge of the repairs turned red as a cardinal and started stammering. She had to go ask someone for permission, but they eventually agreed. They seem more comfortable now, but at first, you would’ve thought we were a pack of wolves. Several guards were assigned to watch us. Moray was flirting with them.” He snorts. “It was kinda funny.”
I scrunch up my face. “Wolves?”
“Like dogs, only fiercer. I have a good story about them if you want to hear it.”
“Yes, please, but later.” I hear the brothers talking together near a small cooking fire, and I smell some kind of stew. They must have hunted today, too. “There’s something I have to do.”
I ask to speak to Moray and Conda alone and tell them what Frost said. Conda makes a shocked noise.
“She’s doing what?” Moray says. “Uh-uh, that’s not happening. She’s not keeping my baby from me.”
I touch his arm. “I’m not sure you can stop her. The Sisters—every last one—will protect her and the baby if she tells them she’s committed to staying, becoming a Fire Sister for real this time.”
He sputters. “I’ll… I’ll just… go in there and get her.”
“Moray, we’re in the middle of negotiations with the Sisters. I think they’re coming around. If you try to go get Frost and someone is hurt, everything we’ve been working for will be ruined.” I pause. “I didn’t have to tell you what she said, when things are at such a sensitive point, but I didn’t want to keep it from you, either. I thought you deserved to know.”
“Damn it!” Moray says.
I reach out and find his arm. His muscle is tensed. “I understand why Frost decided to do this, but I don’t agree with it. You’re the baby’s father. I think you should be able to help make decisions about how your child is raised. But… maybe you haven’t convinced Frost that the baby will be better off with you in his or her life.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Moray says.
“Is it?” I ask. “Think about how you’ve talked about Frost, how you’ve treated her, and then decide if it’s all that ridiculous.”
He doesn’t have a comeback this time.
“What about me?” Conda asks. “Did you tell her what I said, how I feel about her? I’d take care of her.”
He must have told Moray how he felt, because his big brother doesn’t react. “I did. I’m sorry, Conda. She said that if we get an alliance going, and you want to come back, she would see you.”
“That’s not good enough,” Moray says.
I sigh. “It might have to be for now. Please, please don’t make me regret telling you. Don’t do anything stupid. Promise me.”
It takes some cajoling, but they finally promise. When we go back to camp, Moray is testy, and Conda is solemn. Cuda asks what’s wrong, but I never hear them tell him. I tell Bear and Peree to keep an eye on the brothers tonight when they’re on watch. Interestingly, Bear spends most of the evening talking to Kai. He seems to be the only one able to draw her out. I even hear her laugh once or twice.
Amarina, Derain, Peree, and I spend the evening anticipating seeing the children. If all goes as planned, we’ll be with them in the morning.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Amarina and I meet with Adar and Alev again. This time, Golnar and Grimma are there, too. Grimma greets us amiably, clearly curious about the alliance, while Golnar sits in chilly silence. But she warms up a bit as the morning goes on, especially when we tell them that the anuna could use some expertise in defending Koolkuna.
“They have no walls?” she bursts out. “No defenses?”
I hesitate to be perfectly honest about it, but some of the Sisters have already been there. They’ve seen the situation. There’s no reason to lie. I feel a hint of interest from Golnar as she considers the challenge of helping them learn to protect themselves better.
Adar is more open about some of the Sisters’ challenges today, too, like their touchy trading relationship with the ants, the headaches of occasional drought conditions, and health problems, particularly among the older Sisters, thanks to the Eternal Flames and the Cloister’s poor air quality.
I tell them of the Groundlings’ similar fragile relationship with the Lofties and, as best as I can, how the Council of Three addressed our issues in the past. Amarina talks about periods of drought that the anuna dealt with. I mention that Nerang probably has some miracle breathing cures he could share, but to watch out—they might involve heavy doses of wooze-inducing incense. We actually laugh a few times together; Golnar even chuckles once, although she chokes it off with a cough.
The Sisters seem even closer to a yes by the time we wrap up. We’re to see the children next. My body fizzes with excitement, and I can feel the bounce in Amarina’s steps through her guiding arm.
“One more day’s work and the new gate should be complete,” Alev tells us as we leave the great hall. “My Sisters inform me that if not for your… friends’… assistance, we would have required several more days to cut the trees and prepare the wood to assemble them.”
“They were happy to help.” Most of them, anyway.
“It did not go unnoticed.”
“We were the cause of the damage. The least we could do is help put it right again.”
On the way to the children’s compound, we walk past where I know the wasp enclosure lies. There’s only silence. No furious buzzing, no creepy scratching, no sound at all. I say nothing, and neither do the Sisters who accompany us. They must know we released the insects, but I don’t feel one bit bad about it. The Sisters are better off without the power of the sting. And anyway, for all I know, they already have some heavily wrapped wasp catcher running around in the woods, gathering a new swarm.
Alev waits with Amarina and me as Adar enters the children’s compound. My stomach twists with excitement and anxiety when the gate creaks open a second time. Will the children be healthy and well? Or completely traumatized? How much of Kai’s difficult personality was due to being Gathered, and how much was losing her father, having to bury him, and becoming runa for a time? It kills me that Kora and the other children could be similarly affected. But at least we’re here, now, and hopefully close to securing their release.
Amarina’s breathing ratchets up. I hold her hand; it’s hot and damp.
Light, quick footsteps come toward us, and like a rabble of butterflies, they blow into us. I pull each of them to me, trying to touch them all, reassure them that we’re here. I can’t speak through my tears, or through my laughter.
“Mirii!” Kora shouts. “Are you taking us home? Where are my father and mother?” Her coarse, curly hair covers my face as I lean down to scoop her up in my arms.
“I want Papa and Mama!” Darel says, sounding like he might cry, too. I lift him up with my other arm.
“Mama!”
Amarina says oomph! Then bursts into tears.
“Ellin, my Ellin… Mama’s here.” Her voice cracks.
“Is my sister with you?” Thrush asks. “Petrel? Or Peree?”
Of all the children, his voice sounds the most different. It’s more somber, holding less mischief. I hope that doesn’t mean the Teachers have been harsh in their discipline of him. Thrush was one of the oldest Gathered. He would have the clearest understanding of what was happening to him, and so the effects of being ripped from his family might be most obvious. After all, Thrush and Moon lost their par
ents some time ago. He came with us from the Lofty trees. He had barely had a chance to adjust to Koolkuna before the Sisters took him. None of this would be easy for him. I kneel, put Kora and Darel down, and hug him, holding him for a long time.
I embrace as many of the children as I can find. Kissing the tops of their heads, I whisper to them that we’re here, that we’re hoping to free them, that their parents are desperate to have them back. Amarina’s still weeping and babbling to Ellin in the first language of the anuna. Ellin comforts her, which breaks my heart. When my friend’s tears of joy finally run their course, she turns to the other children of the anuna, speaking to each of them, comforting them. I do the same.
“Kora and Darel,” I say, my own voice wobbly, “your father’s here, too, outside the walls. He has missed you so much.”
As much as I want to, I don’t tell them that they’ll see him soon. I’m just not sure.
“I want him,” Darel says, clutching my leg. “I want a piggyback ride.”
“I want one first!” Kora says.
“I’ll give you both a ride,” I assure them. “Thrush—Peree is here, too. He’s been worried about you. Moon and Petrel are back in Koolkuna, but I know they’ve been thinking about you every second since you… left.”
“I’ve thought of them, too.”
My throat constricts at the sound of Thrush’s solemn voice, so similar to Eland’s after the blow of Aloe’s death and my disappearance into the caves. Like any boyishness has been choked out, leaving a young man grown old before his time.
I say whatever I can to remind the Sisters, who I think are watching and listening, that these children have families waiting for them. Families who love them. Families who will be devastated if they don’t come home. But mostly, I hold the children. I want them to know we’re here, that we came for them.
Surrounded on all sides, I smile widely, my eyes wet, and face toward where I hear Adar and Alev murmuring to each other..
“Thank you,” I say. “Thank you so much for allowing us this. You have no idea how much it means.”
“No, I don’t think we did—before.” Alev’s voice is thick with emotion. “Adar? What is your decision?”
“Fennel, Amarina, you have my permission to take the children back to their homes,” Adar says in her formal way.
“Really?” I pull the children in tighter as they squeal and cry with excitement. Amarina breaks into fresh sobs.
“Yes,” Adar says. “Please understand—we are not monsters. Many of our Gathered daughters are happy to be with us. They were not wanted in their villages, they were not fed, they were mistreated. We give them a safe place to learn, to grow, and to become strong women who will never be abused again. But it is clear that yours are not the same. They were well cared for, loved, and they want to return with you. And so they shall.”
There’s an uncharacteristic smile in Adar’s voice. “We are intrigued by the idea of an alliance. You both have thoughtful ideas, and you have—all—shown yourselves to be willing partners.” By the way she says all, I think she means the men, too.
Alev says, “We would like to invite a group of you to return to discuss how our communities might help each other. You and Amarina in particular, if you will come, perhaps in the spring when it warms.”
We agree. Then I have another idea.
“Alev! Will you come back to Koolkuna with us now? You can meet the anuna, our people, and see how we live. Then I can show you the truth about the sick ones instead of only telling you.”
After all, that was how Wirrim persuaded Peree and me to believe the Scourge were not as dangerous as we’d always thought.
“Thank you,” Alev says. “Allow me to speak with my sister before I give you an answer.”
“We’ll wait to leave until the gate and the damaged wall are repaired, too,” I tell them. “Plus anything else you need help with.”
And that’s how we find ourselves by the repaired Cloister gate two days later, packed and ready to leave, waiting for the children—and Alev, who decided to come with us. The gate swings open on new hinges, which the men helped fashion, and the children run to us. Derain shouts to Kora and Darel, and they howl with delight.
I’m standing with Peree as Thrush comes to him. The boy cries a little as Peree murmurs to him.
“It’s so good to have you back, cuz,” Peree says. I smile; he calls Petrel that, too.
“I’m not really your cousin,” Thrush says.
“As far as I’m concerned, you are. You’re family. Nothing can change that, you hear me? We’ll always come for you, and we’ll always be here for you.”
I said the same thing to Eland when I awoke in the caves after the Reckoning to find Aloe had been killed. I told him I’d always come back for him, and I did. I just couldn’t protect him from everything.
But I’m realizing—slowly—that I did the best I could, and I have to forgive myself. I have Kai to thank for that. If no part of her father’s death was her fault, then how could Eland’s be mine? But it still hurts. Oh, how it hurts.
“You ready to go home?” Peree asks Thrush.
“Yeah.” He sniffs. “And I’m hungry.”
I laugh and dig through my pack to find some dried boar meat the Sisters provisioned us with for the journey home. We collect up the other children, the ones whose parents, for one reason or another, couldn’t come with the search party, and check in with each of them, making sure they’re all right.
Ellin helps us, updating Amarina and me about how one had a stomachache the day before and another got a scratch while practicing archery with the Teachers. I already hear leadership qualities in the girl. I hope to get to know her better when we get home.
“Home,” I whisper. I can hardly believe it. We’re going home.
Peree pulls me into his arms. My hands tangle in his pack, quill, and bow as they slip around his back, but I manage to hug him.
“There’s Frost,” Conda says from a few paces away. “Up on the wall.” He sounds morose.
Moray mutters something about her that sounds insulting, but I choose not to hear it. I’m grateful the brothers didn’t do anything to damage our budding relationship with the Sisters over the last few days… not that they didn’t think about it. They may not understand Frost’s choice now, but there’s a chance they will, in time. Or she might change her mind and come back to Koolkuna after the birth. Either way, I believe she’ll do what she thinks is best for her baby.
“Fennel,” Alev says as we get underway, “you left something in the Cloister.”
“I did?”
Amarina, Kai, and I were allowed to gather our belongings and say a bittersweet goodbye to Frost last evening. I thought I got everything. Alev places a smooth, slim stick in my hand that I recognize right away. Aloe’s cane.
I’m happy to have it back, but I realize, as we walk through the forest and climb the ladder into the trees, that I don’t need it as much as I did on the way here. I’ve been this way before, and I return with much more confidence. Through Aloe’s cane, I know I have my mother’s lingering strength and support, and that’s enough.
Bear draws Alev into a conversation about the ants and where they came from. He asks her all kinds of questions about how they live underground, what they hunt, how they run their community. Then, he asks about other people and places she’s seen, eager for information.
Kora and Darel walk with Derain, singing a song. As far as I can tell, they haven’t left his side, except to greet Peree and me. As Peree talks quietly with Thrush, I find myself next to Kai. More than her scent, I recognize her particular gait. I swear her footsteps sound lighter than they used to.
“How are you?” My stomach tenses as soon as the words come out of my mouth, but the scathing rebuke I’m expecting doesn’t come.
“Fine, I guess.”
I wait. I’m learning that silence is often best with Kai. She’ll talk to me, or she won’t. I have to be patient. Like exploring a new plac
e, I’m feeling my way around the unseen, untested boundaries of our fledgling friendship.
“I was thinking about how much better things turned out this time. For the guru.” To her credit, she doesn’t sound resentful.
“Thanks to you,” I say.
“And you.”
“We aren’t a bad team.” I grin.
Darel is screeching with excitement. Derain must be swinging him around or giving him a piggyback ride or who knows what. I remember the days when I could make Eland happy with those simple things.
I breathe deeply, quelling the pain. “Did I tell you I lost my mother and brother not long ago?”
“I heard.”
“How… how do you get through it? How do you recover?”
“I’m not sure I’m the best one to answer that. I haven’t done so well.”
“I’d like to hear anyway. I’ve been struggling, too. It’s getting a little easier, but not much.”
Haltingly, as we trail the rest of the group, she tells me what happened. How her father injured himself while on the journey to rescue her from the Sisters, and how the wound festered after Alev helped her escape from the Cloister. How he suffered during the days’ long return to Koolkuna and how blood sickness eventually took his life under the shade of a greenheart tree near the River Restless.
Kai wandered for days in her grief, not eating, not sleeping, and drinking the poisoned water of the river. She stumbled into a group of runa, and only stumbled out again—mentally and physically—when Nerang found her weeks later. Then, to make things worse, her people kept her at arm’s length.
While the anuna have sympathy for the runa, she explained, they still see them as unequal, lesser than. And Kai, too, after she became one of them for a time. She felt that subtle stigma acutely… until she met Peree.
Kai talks, and I listen, saying little. I admire her strength, especially after all she’s been through. She’s like the walls of the Cloister when we first arrived, broken, but still standing tall, doing their best to protect the Sisters. Kai’s walls shield her vulnerable side, the parts of herself she keeps hidden away from the world. Her time with the Sisters formed and shaped who she is now. It damaged her, but it made her stronger.