Flight

by Jae Waller

  “Is Suriel coming?” Tiernan was on the floor by the fireplace, resting his head on his hands.

  “Nei. He can’t get past the creek spirit, remember.”

  He was silent so long I thought that was the end of it. Then he said, “Maika would still be alive if she had not married me.”

  “She knew what she was getting into.” That was my only comfort. Marijka had gone into our plan willingly, as brave as any warrior.

  Tiernan raised his head. His beard had grown out, not quite hiding the hollowness under his cheekbones. His tan had faded. “She was the one bright spot in my life. When everyone else gave up on me, she was still there.”

  “Not everyone.” I stepped inside, my fingers trailing along the doorframe.

  “I feel old beyond my years. My path has ended.” He rubbed the scar on his nose. “There will never be anyone like her. It is not an easy thing to love a soldier.”

  “I know.” My voice didn’t waver. No thunder drowned out my words. But he didn’t look at me.

  Tiernan tilted his head as if listening to the rain. “If Suriel cannot come here, I must go to him.”

  “Why?”

  “He sent me a message. I have a response.”

  “You—” My breath caught. “We’ve been over this. Even Rhonos said no one knows how to kill a saidu.”

  “Everything that lives can die.”

  I knelt and took his cold hands in mine. He’d been spared once for my sake, but nothing would save him if he was trying to kill Suriel outright. “The wind dies a thousand deaths. You only get one.”

  “Maika is not the first person I led into Suriel’s path. Jorum stayed at Dúnravn because I asked.” Tiernan stood, pulling away from me, and took his scabbard from a nail by the door. Hafelús rang as he drew it. He flipped the blade over, studying the edge. “I must make amends to those who have gone to Thaerijmur before me.”

  “This isn’t about being noble, or — whatever you think it is! It’s suicide!”

  “I am a soldier. When I die, it will be in battle.”

  Something inside me cracked. I couldn’t let him do this. Nor could I wait any longer for Rhonos to return.

  “Tiernan . . .” I gripped the stone mantlepiece, drawing on its steadiness. “Maika’s death wasn’t a message.”

  He stilled. Lightning glinted off his sword.

  My words came out in a rush. “I’m the one who told Suriel she might be willing to open a rift. Maika and I went to meet him in the valley of stumps, but the creek spirit had driven him off. He must’ve sent Corvittai to get her instead. I never mentioned her name or where she lived — but somehow he found out. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Whenever I’d thought about confessing, I imagined the heat of his rage. The cabin burning, rainforest steaming, ash filling my lungs like the shrine fire. But there was nothing. Just cool rain striking the doorstep.

  “I let you into my home,” he said slowly. “Into my life. I thought asking Maika to help Suriel was the most you would dare betray me. Instead you went straight to him.”

  “We would’ve told you if you were here. You wouldn’t even discuss it with us!”

  Tiernan knocked the table over with a crash and forced me against the mantelpiece, his calloused hand on my throat. “After all my warnings—”

  I choked out a laugh. “You going to kill me? My life for Maika’s?”

  He seized a fistful of my shirt and threw me clear over the fallen table. “Get out. Before I change my mind.”

  Wincing, I scrambled up. “Tiernan, I’m sorry—”

  He crossed the small room and slammed me into the log wall. “Get. Out.”

  I coughed, clutching my chest. “You don’t know anything! I offered to die for you and Maika. I tried to protect her. You weren’t here!”

  Tiernan pressed Hafelús against my neck, its edge stinging like hot iron, a single point of fire. Blood trickled down my skin. The realization slithered over me, cold and wet. He might really kill me.

  I grabbed his wrist. Ice crackled across Hafelús. He let go in shock, the blade clanging to the floor. Crystal shards exploded across us. I raised my other hand to strike him, but he pinned it to the wall.

  “Tiernan,” I breathed. “Look at me. Please.”

  He trembled, staring at a point somewhere over my shoulder.

  Tears broke free and streamed down my face. “Aeldu curse it, I’m right here! Just fucking look at me!”

  Tiernan shoved me toward the door. He wrestled me halfway through before I got ahold of the frame, digging my nails into the wood. I planted my feet into the floorboards, my body wedged against his, our ribs pressed together. Sheets of rain blew into us.

  “Why?” he asked hoarsely. “Why won’t you go?”

  “I can’t let you die too.” I cupped his jaw with my free hand and pulled his face toward me. His beard was rough under my palm. “I don’t want to lose you, Tiernan. If I mean anything to you — please—”

  I kissed him, twining my fingers into his dark hair like I’d dreamt of for so long. His lips were cracked and dry. Raindrops slid down his face. I loosed my nails from the doorframe and slid my arm around him, but there was no warmth left. My burning man had gone out.

  His eyes met mine. In that moment I knew. I was one of his ghosts. No matter how much I pleaded or how loud I screamed, my voice could no longer drown out the voices in the wind, because mine was one of them now.

  I fished the fragments of the wolf makiri from my purse, pressed them into Tiernan’s palm, and folded his fingers over the cold stone. My lips formed words, but made no sound.

  I love you.

  And I stepped into the rain.

  •

  The Blackened Oak bustled with people and chatter. I leaned over the bar and managed to get Nhys’s attention while he filled a row of mugs. “I’m looking for Rhonos Arquiere. Have you seen him?”

  Nhys glanced up and down the bar. He passed out the mugs and beckoned me into a quiet corner. “I don’t normally give out info about patrons, but he should be back tonight. How’s Tiernan holding up?”

  “Not well. That’s why I need Rhonos.”

  Nhys grimaced and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Dinner be on the house if you want to wait around.”

  I curled up on a log bench and picked at baked cod and rutabaga. I was still wearing Rin summer clothes, but my cloak covered my tattoos and bare skin — and the bruises from the fight. People trickled upstairs to their rooms as the evening waned. I was nodding off when I heard my name.

  Rhonos stood next to me, longbow strapped to his back. His hood concealed his face, but I recognized his moss-green cloak and leather wristguard. “Come. Let us talk outside.”

  We went behind the pub, away from pools of light spilling out the windows. Flies buzzed around barrels reeking of offal. Horses shuffled and nickered in the stable. I made sure we were alone, then said, “Tiernan’s decided to challenge Suriel. He’s going to get himself killed.”

  Rhonos muttered something that was probably a Ferish curse. “Where is he now?”

  “Hopefully still at his cabin. I told the creek spirit not to let him leave, or he and Suriel would burn Iyun Bel to its roots. I’m not sure it understood though.”

  “You promised to stay with him.”

  “He tried to kill me!” I jabbed at the red line across my neck. “I can’t stop him leaving if my blood’s in the ground!”

  Rhonos closed his eyes. “You told him.”

  “I had to do something. You promised to come back. I’ve been taking care of him for half a month—”

  “I apologize. I got held up.”

  Only then did I notice the rips in his cloak and a faded gash on his hand. “Where?”

  “Crieknaast. Apparently Marijka magically healed soldiers in their military hospital, and plenty of towns
folk knew she often travelled there with Tiernan. That could be enough for Suriel to piece together that she was the mage you offered.”

  “But those soldiers wouldn’t have sold her out to Suriel. Not after she saved their lives.”

  “Gossip spreads, especially in cramped barracks.” Rhonos pulled a crumpled paper from his pocket. “I found this on the body of a soldier wearing the elk sigil.”

  I took it, pinching the corner between my thumb and fingertip. “You were searching dead bodies? Gross.”

  He gave me that withering look he was so good at. “It contains map coordinates to a site near Crieknaast. I found a Corvittai camp there. Either the soldier was aiding them, or he was a Corvittai in disguise. There is not much difference in the end.”

  My eyes flickered to his wounded hand. “Was he dead when you found him?”

  “The point is, there may be far more at stake. I returned to Caladheå to find out how high up the military the traitors run.”

  I studied the paper. All it had other than numbers was a single word. “What’s this mean? ‘Nonil?’”

  “A navigational aid, most likely.” Rhonos tucked the paper back into his pocket. “We should find Tiernan. He may be more forgiving if he learns it was not entirely your fault.”

  “Did you miss the part where he tried to kill me?”

  “You are giving up on him.”

  “I’m not! Just—” I looked down at the cobblestones, still wet from rain. “I messed up today. Give me time to sort myself out.”

  “What did you do?”

  I squirmed. “Kissed Tiernan.”

  Rhonos gave me a long look. Finally, he said, “I see. Perhaps in another world . . . things worked out how we wanted them to.”

  •

  Hours later, I stood on the cliffs south of Caladheå listening to waves strike the rocks far below. The sky was clouded over with only a faint glow where the moon was. Cool wind rustled my hair. I took a swig of brånnvin and barely spluttered.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” I said.

  Anwea snorted and flicked her tail.

  I swished the flask around. “This was only half-full when I started.”

  A seagull cried. I glanced up and the horizon pitched. I dropped to my knees and rolled onto my back. Sharp rocks pressed into my skin. “Fuckin’ spirits. Suriel promised not to hurt her. Aeldu-cursed, lying, cheating tel-saidu . . . bet he’s never cared about anyone in all his three-bloody-thousand years . . .”

  I waved the flask at the sky. Liquor sloshed onto the ground. “You hear that, Suriel? Fuck you! I hope Tiernan kills you! I hope he burns you so bad the sky turns black! I hope no one ever hears your name again!” I screamed every Coast Trader curse I knew, moved onto an extensive list of insults to the aeldu, and only stopped after I’d gone through Sverbian. I wished I’d asked Iannah to teach me to swear in Ferish.

  The only breeze was from the water. Some other tel-saidu far away, one that probably never came inland. Faintly, rising from the swell of waves, voices slid up the cliffs. I couldn’t tell if one was Marijka’s. The dead were hard to hear in summer.

  “I’m sorry, Maika.” My throat scratched. “For bringing you into this, trusting Suriel, leaving you alone . . . I thought you’d be safe at home. S’posed to be me out there and you here with Tiernan. He needs you. I can never . . .”

  I wondered how far the dead could see over the ocean from Thaerijmur, if they watched the living world like spirits did from Aeldu-yan. “Sorry for kissing your husband,” I mumbled.

  The sky was brightening by the time nausea kicked in. I threw up behind a boulder and collapsed onto scrubby grass. My ribs ached. Airedain always distracted me through this part, cracking jokes and tapping out music with his hands. I pulled a blanket over my head and passed out.

  When I woke it felt like my skull had split in half to let out some angry, clawing creature. I swallowed a vial of willowcloak tincture, thanking the nearest anta-saidu for the fog that filtered the sunlight into something bearable. Once the throbbing subsided, I tethered Anwea in a patch of grass and headed for the cliffs.

  Airedain had shown me a route down, though we’d never gone hours after getting drunk. I went slowly, trusting the feel of footholds instead of my questionable vision. Sea spray battered my back and turned my hair crunchy with salt. In a cave near the bottom, I tucked my clothes on a rock shelf and dove into the sea.

  Iren kohal. Rivers keep flowing, from mountain to ocean.

  The cold knocked the breath out of me. I kicked off from the cliffs, straining every muscle against a current that threatened to dash me into the rock wall. The salt burned where Hafelús cut my neck. I swam into open water and plunged my head under.

  I will go where your fire cannot touch me.

  Everything was murky in the clouded light. A school of fish skittered below me. I dove at them and they shot out in every direction like splintering glass. I stayed down until my lungs begged, then kicked my way up, flipping my hair back as I broke the surface.

  I am not a ghost. I am still of this world.

  I shut my eyes and went under again. The ocean enveloped my naked body, rinsing away the feel of Tiernan’s lips and the scent of woodsmoke. I drifted, not in stillness, but rocking with the tide as my hair floated around me.

  I will not give into the wind. I will not drown in their voices.

  My body cocooned itself with waves. When I stretched out, silver fur rippled across my skin. I spluttered and held my snout to the sky. Seven years and I’d never taken my wolf body into the water.

  I must leave the dead behind so I can live.

  29.

  AWAKENING

  Back on the clifftops that evening, I scrubbed the salt away until my skin was smooth as dew. My bodice felt too tight after wearing Rin clothes for weeks. I brushed my hair, braided it, and rubbed in a few drops of lilac oil to mask the smell of seaweed.

  Airedain was nowhere to be found in the Knox Arms. I nabbed Emílie, the brawny pub owner, but she said she hadn’t seen him all day. I glanced at the shelves of liquor bottles and thought better of it.

  The stairwell door was locked at Airedain’s flat. I stood on the sidewalk and threw chunks of ice at his window. I was about to give up when the shutter banged open.

  Airedain’s cousin Jonalin stuck his head out, rubbing his eyes. “Oh, it’s you.” He was bare-chested. His cropped hair stuck out in every direction.

  “Is Airedain there?”

  “Nei, he came by with some itheran girl and left again.”

  “Britte? The tall blonde one?”

  He paused. “Nei. Brown hair, pale skin. Viviwen, I think.”

  “Oh.” The ice in my hand melted and dripped onto the cobblestone. “Sorry for waking you.”

  “S’okay.” Jonalin’s head vanished. The shutter banged closed.

  A muddy paper tumbled down the darkening street. I put my hands on top of my head and then slammed them into my thighs. “Kaid!” An Iyo man several buildings away looked up, but just unlocked his door and went inside.

  I wandered Ashtown, going nowhere in particular. The streets were clean from rain. I was passing down a narrow lane, feeling tiny next to the red-brick buildings, when a group of itherans emerged from a pub. Their loud voices filled the lane.

  One called out, too cheerful. “Hey, tovakka! Hey, come here!”

  I stopped. “What did you call me?”

  “Ain’t you ever seen a tovakka?” he said as his friends laughed. “It’s a flower. Grows through cracks in the road where it don’t belong.”

  “Nah, tovakkan are actually pretty,” another boy said.

  I clamped my hands on my elbows to resist hurling ice at their heads. There was no one around to back me in a fight. I went back the way I came, laughter drifting after me.

  In an alley drowned with puddles, I l
eaned against the brick and slid to the ground, wishing I was short enough to blend into a crowd, wishing I could pin my hair as neatly as Marijka. Should’ve worn my cloak. Idiot. But deep down, I knew my Ashtown wandering was just delaying what I had to do.

  The southeast road out of the city was quiet. I recognized the draping willows even in the dark. I followed the sheltered lane to Parr Manor, almost hoping he wasn’t there, but light spilled from the windows. I stepped into the covered entrance, took a deep breath, and knocked.

  Several moments passed before a door swung open. Parr stood with a candle in hand, hair loose over his shoulders, collar unbuttoned above his waistcoat. His brow creased when he noticed the cut Tiernan left on my neck. “Miss Kateiko. Is everything all right?”

  “I need to talk to you.” I stared at him, too aware of the rise and fall of my chest.

  He took me into the room where we’d had dinner. Candles flickered on the hearth. An open book lay on the low table by the couch. I refused his invitation to sit, lingering in the centre of the room with my hands knotted behind my back.

  My throat felt dry. I swallowed and forced the words out. “Marijka Riekkanehl is dead.”

  Parr bowed his head. He folded his hands in front of his face and sighed. “I am sorry to hear that. Heilind must be devastated.”

  “I need to know the truth. Did you tell Suriel or the Corvittai anything about her?”

  “Goodness. Of course not. I would not put her at such risk.”

  “And you’re not helping them? Politically, or through your military connections—”

  “Do you think so little of me?” He took a step closer, looking pained.

  I lifted my chin. “Look me in the eye and answer the question.”

  Parr fixed his dark eyes on mine. “I have not helped Suriel nor the Corvittai beyond what we discussed about opening a rift. You saw yourself that I pressed the Council to declare war on Suriel. I promised to guard the identity of my source to keep negotiations open, that is all. I regret terribly if my actions had anything to do with Marijka Riekkanehl’s death.”