by T J Muir
Her mother looked up at her with a sad smile and then looked away. There was more emotion in her face than Diya had ever seen her show and more. When had her mother become old? There were faint lines at the edges of her eyes. Her eyes that looked so sad now as she tucked a strand of nut brown hair back into her hairpin.
“Marrick said he would arrange for clothing and personal things. They should be there when you arrive,” her mother said, consoling herself more than Diya.
Strangely, she’d never been that close to her mother, having been raised by nurses and tutors more than by her own parents. Now, though, she felt sharp pangs. Most of them were for Jay, but having just lost the most important person in the world, she felt a pull that had never been there before. She didn't know what to do with her emotions, so she put her energy into deciding what to bring, a few favorites, as well as the warmest clothes she could find. What was the weather like near Oldfall? She tried to remember. It hadn't been that long ago, but Marrick said it might still be winter there. He said it was cold enough for ponds and streams to freeze solid. She knew what ice was but the idea of that much water turning solid? Everything felt hazy, as if she had drank too much.
She shook herself, realizing her mother had been talking. “What?”
“I said, it might not be so terrible.”
Diya nodded. She was too tired to argue even though it felt like the world was ending. Were it not for the circumstances, she would probably be excited for an adventure. Her crushed heart just wanted to curl up and not think about anything. She sighed. That was not an option. She knew that. Thinking about it made her angry. How dare the family try to force this on her. Growing up, she had imagined a grand wedding to some wonderful, handsome man— even if she had never been able to settle on one. Until Jedda. She closed her eyes tight and swallowed down her grief. Jedda, where are you? Come rescue me from this horrible nightmare.
“Don't forget your necklace, that swan you love so much.”
“What?”
“Your necklace. Here, I'll find it for you.”
She shook herself, trying to focus on her mother's words. The swan. A necklace she had gotten to remind her of that day with Jedda, talking about swans and forever. That reminded her of the carved swan he had given her. She dashed over to the dresser, digging around until she found it. She clutched it tight, trying to decide the safest place to pack it.
“Oh, Marrick said to pick some of your favorite jewelry, especially the more valuable ones. He said it would make the cover story more believable,” her mother said.
That wouldn’t be difficult, she realized. She still had the bundle of jewelry she had grabbed the night she went to see Trey. It was still wrapped up, tossed into one of her drawers. She grabbed it and tossed it onto the bed near her mother.
Rethine picked it up and examined Diya’s little horde before packing it with the other things. “This is a nice selection. I always loved that bracelet. It’s a stunning little sapphire, especially against the ajak silver,” her mother said, then sighed. “Also, your father has put aside funds to send with you. He doesn't know if he will be able to get more to you, so try to be careful with it. I know how you like to shop.”
Her mother was rambling on, trying to fill the silence.
“Maybe this will all get cleared up soon, and you'll be home before the rains come or for the harvest festivals.”
A half-shrug. Assume it is forever.
“How could he do this?” It erupted out of nowhere. How could Jedda abandon me?
“You know Tak didn't mean it to end this way.”
“What?” Diya, confused, felt her anger surge again, remembering her uncles’ foolishness— and her own helplessness. A part of her now wanted to leave. To forget. To be somewhere fresh and new. This decision, at least, was hers. It might be the only power she had— to run away, but it was better than submitting herself to a fate decided by others.
Once she had packed her things, her mother straightened her hair and sat on the edge of Diya’s bed.
“Have you written a note to leave behind?” Rethine asked.
“What?”
“Marrick suggested that you might do well to leave a note behind, something angry and hurt. Something you might have done if you were actually running away.”
Diya hadn’t considered that. Would she have left without saying anything to her parents? She imagined Jay coming to her window to take her away. Would she have stopped long enough to inform her parents not to worry, or more importantly, not to look for her?
“Okay. I’ll write something before I have to leave,” she said.
Rethine nodded, then paused, looking down at her hands.
Diya knew that look. “What? What are you not saying?”
“We have another request. It won’t take very long, but your father and I agree that you need to write an apology to Hak’ket. It needs to look like we are making sure you comply with this arrangement.”
“What?” Diya couldn’t believe what she had just heard. “He insulted our servants, sneered at everything he saw and then-”
“None of that matters,” her mother said, cutting her off. “An apology is required.”
Diya clenched her jaw and glared at her mother, but this time, Rethine held her ground. Finally Diya growled. “Fine!” Having conceded, she went over to her desk and scrawled out a hasty note that essentially repeated what she had said to Hak’ket when he left. When it was done, she folded it and shoved it into her mother’s hand.
Rethine looked down to read what Diya had written and grimaced. “Well, it certainly looks coerced,” was all she said, drily.
Just then, Maldi ducked her head inside the door.
How long has she been there?
“What do you want?” Diya asked, a little too sharply.
The girl took a step backwards, eyes wide.
“I’m sorry. You surprised me,” Diya said, trying to treat the girl with her usual familiarity.
Maldi blinked, looking back and forth between Diya and Rethine.
“Is there a message for my mother or myself?” Diya asked.
“A visitor,” she said, swallowing, her voice sounding unsure now.
Diya cringed, afraid Hak’ket had returned, or worse, his father. “Who is it?”
“Your cousin, missus. Jomar.”
Diya smiled, genuinely happy. Jomar was like a brother to her, a long time confidant and co-conspirator. They had lied for each other and spied for each other countless times. He had gone to great lengths to cheer her up when Raifen had jilted her. Both times.
She looked over to her mother, silently imploring her for a tiny respite.
Rethine looked doubtful, lips pursed but then she relented. “Perhaps a visit with your cousin will cheer you up,” she said. “I know there are big decisions to be made,” she glanced sideways towards Maldi for a quick moment before looking back to Diya, “but maybe your cousin can help. Maybe he can talk some sense into you. By all that is holy, I know I’ve tried, and I have talked myself into exhaustion.” She nodded as she spoke and headed for the door. As she passed Diya, she laid a hand on Diya’s arm and gave a quick squeeze. “The private garden should be nice,” her mother said and then turned to Maldi. “Please inform Hachin, down in the kitchens. She will know to make something and serve it in the garden.” Then she turned back to Diya with a quick stern look that Maldi couldn’t see. “Take care to treat your cousin well. And mind your tongue.”
Down in the garden, Jomar rushed over to her and hugged her tightly. She surprised herself, holding onto him as though her life depended on it.
“A halfblood lover!” he exclaimed. “How scandalous!” He said that with a mischievous grin and a glint in his eye though. “How did you not tell me about all this?”
Diya held him at arm’s length and hung her head, feeling chastised. “It was all a bit sudden,” she said, “and things developed very fast.”
Jomar threw his head back and laughed. “You should
hear the gossip. The women all pretend to be outraged. But secretly, I think they are jealous.”
“Jealous?” Diya asked, confused.
“Jay had a certain air about him, and a good number of eligible young women would have willingly invited him into their beds.”
Diya slapped his arm, shocked at Jomar’s utter lack of tact and discretion. Then she laughed, knowing it was exactly that cordial bluntness that she loved in him. He was the closest thing she had to a sibling, and there were very few secrets between them. Until now.
She felt guilty, keeping this plan to herself. She wished she could confide in him. He would cry for her and agonize on her behalf. He would also conspire and support the plan. He would revel in the scope of the deception, but she knew her parents wanted absolutely no one to know.
Fortunately, Jomar was an engaging conversationalist and was brimming with gossip. Once that was exhausted, he asked about Hak’ket. He already knew the specifics and was only interested in an opportunity to mock and ridicule ‘the loathsome wretch,’ as Jomar described Hak’kar’s son.
She was sad when Jomar finally left and she hugged him tightly, wondering how long it might be before she saw him again. She looked at him, wishing she could tell him everything. Instead, she sighed and looked at him closely. “Thank you so much. I love you. You know that, right? And if you don’t hear from me for a while, please know that it isn’t personal and that--” she stopped in mid-sentence, choking on the words. Fortunately, Jomar just hugged her again.
She walked with him all the way to the main gate where his family’s carriage waited for him. She smiled, waved and watched until he was out of sight. Then she went back to the house to finish her preparations. She would be leaving that night, as soon as the moons had set. Marrick said it would be the best opportunity to slip out without being seen. She felt better, knowing Marrick had a plan.
CHAPTER Six
Flying at night was different than flying during the day. Before, when she had convinced Marrick to teach her and Jay to fly, it had been warm and sunny, a fun and rebellious adventure. Now, being strapped into the metal frame in the dark of night felt surreal. She looked up at the silk and canvas wings, a swatch of darkness against the moons’ soft glowing light, Triappa and Breshan were thin slivers in the sky. This flier was heftier and bigger than the one she had flown in with Jay. The wings were dark with no markings. She understood why. The point was to be invisible.
Marrick went over the basic instructions and rules before hurling the flyer off the launching ramp. Her heart lurched as the flier plunged into the darkness, dipping downward before catching the wind. She gripped the handles until her hands and arms began to cramp. Once they leveled out, she forced her fingers to loosen up. She closed her eyes until her body relaxed. After that, it was easier. When she turned her head slightly or the flier tilted in the currents, she caught stunning glimpses of the stars. Diya stared in wonder at the myriad colors blazing in the night sky, so much more than she could have imagined from the ground. The stars seemed more vibrant and the air clearer. The feeling of being so high above the ground made her delightfully dizzy.
Marrick’s flier climbed higher still, until the towns below became nothing more than tiny flickers of light.
The flight out of Tatak Rhe and across most of Chanmyr was longer than the short flights she’d made with Jay… Jedda. Diya still couldn’t get used to thinking of him using his real name.
Cold began to seep in despite the extra layers, and she wanted to beg Marrick to land. She was sure it should be morning by now but saw no sign of the sky turning lighter. She twisted around, trying to look behind them for any hint of sunrise, and felt the flier jolt in response.
“Sorry!” she yelled forward, hoping Marrick could hear her as he worked to smooth out their flight.
The cold air crept into her bones, a deep chill, and she shivered as she tried to focus on what lay below to take her mind from her discomfort. It was then she started to notice the occasional flicker of opalescent light amidst the solid yellow-orange glow of the towns. The Yfa chirrik.
Looking down, the blanket of darkness was interrupted occasionally by faint spots of luminescence. It looked a bit like stars reflected on water, vague but entrancing. Diya would’ve gladly braved worse cold to see this sight. Each shell shimmered with a slightly different color, the same but unique. Some seemed redder, others bluer or violet with hints of silver, white and yellow.
After a while, she felt the flier tilt downward, and Marrick began their descent. The skies were beginning to lighten into a dark grey. It had been a long night. Diya sighed, relieved. Finally, they’d reached their destination. Beautiful as the flight had been, she was certainly ready for it to be over. All she wanted in that moment was a soft bed with warm sheets to curl up in.
Before long, the ground rose to greet them, and Marrick yelled out instructions so Diya could help them get safely onto the ground.
Once they were down, Marrick slipped out of his harness. She was already pulling at the straps and buckles, frantic, by the time Marrick got back to help her.
“Here, easy,” he said. “Your hands are probably cold. Let me do it,” he said, sounding tired but insistent.
“Hurry up.” Now that they were on the ground, she felt the pressure of the hot tea she had drunk just before taking off. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.
“Just give me a moment,” Marrick said, pushing her hand away.
“Just hurry up!” She said, reaching for the buckle at her waist.
“Okay,” he said, releasing the harness. Diya climbed shakily from the flier, peering around in the dim light and squirming in her distress.
“What's wrong? Marrick asked, worried. “Are you hurt?”
“No. But it was a long flight. I really really need to--”
“Oh,” he said, sounding relieved. “Right. I never drink too much before a long flight.”
“You might have mentioned that before!” She snipped. “Where--?”
“Oh, an outhouse?” Marrick said. “There is one, over near the launch field, but there are probably fliers camped out—”
“Right.”
Marrick rubbed his chin. Was he reddening? It was hard to tell in the dim greyness. “Well, there's the woods just behind the cabin. No one is around. I'll watch.” He blushed, “I mean, I didn’t mean— I meant—I'll make sure no one—”
She smiled slightly at his discomfiture.
Having taken care of necessities, she felt a bit better. She came back over to the flier and straightened her clothes, trying to get the warmth back into her body. Marrick handed her a flask of brandy which she took gratefully.
“Is that Dunwood?” she asked, looking out over the hilltop to the dim lights below.
Marrick shook his head. “No. This is only halfway. That is Treyu below.”
“Why did we stop then?” she asked, bracing her hand against the flyer’s side.
“Because it’s a fool's mission flying through the entire night. It’s already nearing dawn. We can sleep in the small cabin for a few hours, and then I can check the flier out come daylight. We can be out again with the second Nibbin.”
Lunchtime? They were supposed to stay here all morning? Diya wanted to protest, but she saw the strained look on Marrick's face even in the dim light. He was doing this for her and for her family. She bit back her anger and hugged him instead. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
He nodded and grunted. “There should be something in the way of blankets inside. Go and get some rest, you'll need it for the next leg.” With that, he hauled the flier away from where they’d landed to anchor it down, tilting the wings down so the wind didn't catch them.
Diya woke to the bright sun and a brisk breeze. She rubbed her face, forgetting for a moment where she was. Remembering, she panicked. Where was Marrick? She sat and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. She looked around the tiny cabin. A plate waited for her on a low wooden stump next to the pa
llet she’d slept on.
The cabin was more a lean-to, far more rustic than anywhere Diya had ever laid her head. She picked up a small chunk of cheese and a sweet roll and devoured them faster than she intended. There was a bottle of water which she emptied. After straightening her clothes and fixing her hair as best she could without a brush, she stepped outside.
She found Marrick, snoring slightly in a hammock strung between two trees. Diya paused, chewing on a fingertip, trying to decide whether or not to wake him. She took a step, and a twig snapped beneath her.
“I'm awake,” he said, voice thick.
“I was worried,” she said. “I thought you wanted to leave earlier than this.”
Marrick grunted, heaving himself upright and disentangling himself from the hammock's webbing. “The wind. It shifted during the last bit of the night. Taking off in a cross wind would have been dangerous even without a passenger.”
“So, are we stuck here?”
Marrick wiped his face and reached for a flask from the jacket he’d used as a pillow. “If the weather changes then there may be a number of fliers heading out— there's a launch ramp on the south side of the ridge. We can slip out, launch from the back side, and hope no one is paying much attention. In the meantime, stay out of sight.”
Diya opened her mouth, then stopped herself, knowing anything she said would sound mean spirited.
“I'm going to get some more sleep and then go down the hill to get some breakfast for us.”
It was almost lunchtime, but she didn’t say anything. She just nodded and went back to the lean-to.
Inside, she curled up on the blankets. She wished Jedda was there. She wanted to tell him all about her midnight flight. She pulled out his letter and read it for the hundredth time. It told her nothing new. No matter how many times she read his words, hoping to discover some clue, the letter only made her heart ache more.