46. Maren
46
Maren
I t hadn’t taken this long on Neris Island.
I’d pulled him onto the beach and had only given him a fraction of the air I was using now.
Throwing my sodden braid over my shoulder, I moved from his mouth to his chest a third time, gasping air into my own lungs as I pushed down on him with the heel of my hands.
His head lolled with every pump of my arms into his chest, every muscle in his body limp.
COME ON, KYE.
With a snarl, I forced his coat and shirt aside, nails digging into his bare chest as I called to the blood in his heart through my fist. And squeezed .
His muscles seized. His chest contracted. His neck arched backwards as he retched without coherency. I grabbed him by the collar and flung him forward, watching in blurry disbelief as his body sent his most recent meal into the snow between his legs.
His eyes rolled, and he felt flimsy against me—but he didn’t immediately fall back into the snow. Instead, he sank to his side, coughing and spitting, drawing ragged breaths of air into his lungs.
He moaned, legs and arms churning as though working through a burn in his middle, vivid claw marks from my nails carved into his flesh. I sat him upright, squatting over his legs to wipe melted snow out of his eyes with trembling fingers, and realized I was trembling.
He looked at me, golden eyes full of confusion at the pain in his thorax, and I’d never seen anything so beautiful.
“I broke it,” I wept, wiping my nose with a shaking arm. “I’m so sorry, Kye. I think I broke your sternum.” Hands across his shoulders, I leaned him forward against myself, tucking the crown of his cold, wet head into the hollow of my neck. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
My hands found their way up his neck and into his hair, dripping with half-melted snow. Suddenly my legs felt weak, and my knees sank between his thighs, not caring about the bile that sat nearby. He leaned against me, coughing softly and clearing his throat, his hand limp against my shoulder as I cradled him.
“I don’t know what happened,” he finally croaked.
I pulled him away far enough to study his face. “We made it to the top, and then I caused an avalanche—” I lost my breath at the word, dropping my forehead against his, fingers twisting in his hair and the snow-ridden fur of his coat.
“I’m fine,” he said, the words weak. He pushed himself upright, his palm digging into his chest, the corners of his mouth dragging into a low grimace. “I’m fine.”
His eyes drifted down the mountainside to the massive wall of snow below.
It had ripped trees from their roots and rocks from their beds. The debris poked from the snow at odd angles, disjointed and broken. Beyond the deadly berm, the Rivean camp shifted and blurred, ants angry their nest had been disturbed.
The dust of snow settled, giving way to bright, cold sunshine. Wool blankets torn from Kolibri’s back, the avalanche guiding their attention up, I’m sure we were as visible to the army below as they were to us.
“Their trail is buried as well,” Kye hissed through clenched teeth as though reading my thoughts. “It would take them hours to reach us. Perhaps a full day.”
“Can you stand?” I asked, sniffling as I scrambled to my feet to help.
He growled at the soreness of his chest as he staggered upright.
We both stared at Sero, half covered in snow.
Kye stepped in close to the gray horse’s stomach and knelt to his saddlebags, tugging his dagger free. The snow shifted under his weight, falling away from Sero’s front legs, both of them broken.
A noise broke from my throat at the sight. I dropped my head over my chest, coaxing a raw lump from the back of my mouth.
Kye groaned softly as he straightened, a fist over his heart, his lips curled.
“Do you need a minute?” I asked shakily, eyeing the stiff way his legs moved.
He shook his head. “I'm fine,” he sighed, pausing to run a hand along the ridge of my jaw, stopping as his fingers laced under my hair. He smoothed a thumb under my lower lip, smeared with blood. By reflex, I licked it away, the split already closed.
“Are you alright?” he rasped.
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
We weren’t out of danger as we scaled the pass and crossed into our own territory.
But the air smelled sweet with the release of a weight I hadn’t realized I’d grown so accustomed to bearing. The sun shined thick and bright down the Calderian side of the mountain, and though the climb down was difficult, it proved much easier than the climb up.
The trail gradient evened, and when I ordered Kye onto Kolibri’s back with me, he listened for once without question.
We shed our furs as we shared Kolibri, my body wedged tight between Kye’s legs. He wrapped an arm around my waist, clearing his throat every few minutes, leaning on me as much as I leaned against him. The mare shuffled across the ice, so nimble I was convinced she’d jumped out the oncoming avalanche entirely, the only one of us to avoid falling victim to the wild wolves of snow.
Ice around us thinned as we descended into Calder, turning to mud. The ash trees that had deserted the peaks of the other side of the mountain returned, painted scarlet and gold by the sun. Their leaves danced and rustled in the alpine wind, every bit as mesmerizing as the flames of a campfire.
Dusk found us still on the mountainside without a cabin.
I’d hoped we’d locate the old trail by now, but we hadn’t. We’d connected with the new one carved by Rivean soldiers, but it wrapped around the rocky face without any sort of structure in sight.
I supposed it made sense. Ten thousand soldiers wouldn’t need one tiny cabin. They had their own tents and gear.
But it was a disappointment, nonetheless.
Finding a rocky outcrop, I dug into the snow, building solid walls around us and over our heads.
It was tiny. But tiny was all we needed.
I left a hole in the roof for a fire, waiting until after dark to start it. Then we curled up next to Kolibri, exhausted.
I felt myself nodding off within minutes and jerked myself awake.
“I’ll take first watch,” Kye said.
I sat up to argue and he stopped me with a hand on my thigh.
“I’m fine, Maren. My ribs are just sore. You’ve earned some sleep.”
I stared at him, defeated. Angry.
I hadn’t earned anything. I’d killed Sero. And almost killed Kye. The entire Rivean army knew that someone was on the mountainside, alerted by the avalanche I’d caused. Somewhere at the bottom of Rivea lay a soldier’s body, his only crime being that he’d stumbled upon us.
All because I hadn’t wanted to take a ship.
The nearby memory of Kye blue and lifeless, his nose and mouth packed with snow, twisted around in my head. Now that we were bedded down and concealed by snow and darkness, I realized how much it made me want to vomit.
Back leaned against Kolibri’s shoulder, Kye gently took my hand, his thumb sweeping over my knuckles.
“He broke his legs,” Kye said softly, as though Sero had been lucky to suffocate under the snow. “He wouldn’t have made it.”
Beside him, I turned into Kolibri’s neck. The mare’s hair lay soft under my cheek, her skin warm. Kolibri tucked her head behind my shoulder, ears twitching under the mass of my hair.
Kye opened his mouth to speak, but I gently interrupted him, not in the mood for comforting words.
“If anyone comes, I’ll be the one to fight them. Not you,” I said threateningly. “If you hear anything , mother moon so help me, you will wake me up.”