Chapter 38 Caspia
Thirty-Eight
Caspia
B lood coats a marble floor. Burgundy swirls over glossy white. Swords and arrows lie scattered around lifeless bodies. Sunlight streams through windows tinted with blues and greens and yellows.
Through the wide balcony doors, a wind sweeps into the large, echoey room. It ruffles the feathers on my wings. It stirs the metallic tang of death. The tang I taste on my tongue.
A man stands before me, his sword dangling from a hand as the other clutches a gash in his side. Bloody tears drip down his face. “Please, Caspia.”
Caspia.
Somewhere, deep inside, the woman named Caspia screams. She rages to be set free. To be unleashed from the torment and the fire burning through her veins. But her scream is nothing compared to the pain and madness and craving for more blood. More death.
There is no Caspia.
I release my own scream, the sound shaking the walls.
The man drops his sword and closes his eyes. “I love you.”
Somewhere, deep inside, the woman named Caspia cries. Begs. Fights.
But the man becomes just another dead body on the cold marble floor.
…
The sky was on the razor’s edge of dusk. My eyes were too full of tears to make out the stars from Andreas’s balcony.
Was that how Xandra had felt after she became the bariwolf? Had she been trapped inside the beast, forced to watch every gruesome act?
We were not meant to be here.
I didn’t want to heed Brother Nold’s warning from the library and leave. But if that vision was the alternative, if I stayed and killed Andreas, I would never survive it.
Why had the Divine called us here to this cursed land?
There had to be some reason. I had to believe it wasn’t simply to slaughter innocent people.
Maybe soon, I’d understand. But for that to happen, I knew in my heart it was time to leave.
Losing Andreas was inevitable. I realized that now. We were destined to end.
The thrum pulsed through my veins.
The light of the two moons seemed to shine particularly bright on the ship with white sails still docked in the bay, like a beacon calling me home.
I was not meant to be here.
It was time to say goodbye.
Wiping my cheeks dry with my palms, I filled my lungs and tipped my face to the sky.
By the grace of the Divine, take this pain.
Part of me wished that I hadn’t been born to my family. I wished the gift had passed me over. I wished my blood was simply blood.
But the other part of me couldn’t regret this journey. Not if it meant finding Andreas.
“Will I always find you out here in the middle of the night?” Strong arms wrapped around my shoulders. Andreas set his chin on my head, the heat from his bare chest warming my back.
I took hold of his forearms and closed my eyes. “Not always.”
His body tensed.
I should have known he’d hear the truth behind two simple words. That they meant more than my inability to sleep through the moon.
“You’re leaving.”
Yes. I couldn’t say it. My heart was in pieces, and admitting it would only make me cry.
He buried his nose in my hair, folding his body around mine. “We didn’t have enough time.”
A lifetime wouldn’t have been enough. But Andreas wouldn’t ask me to stay.
There was too much working against us. The realities we’d been ignoring, the differences in our lives, hung over our heads like a rain cloud. Whether we were ready or not, it was going to storm.
“There is a ship in the harbor.” He pointed to the ship with white sails as if I hadn’t been staring at it for suns. “It was named after my mother and belongs to my family. The captain is a good man. He’s been working to help me restructure our fleet.”
Now it made sense why the ship hadn’t sailed away. When Andreas left the house for his business affairs, he was meeting with its captain. Of course his family owned the Malynn. Normally, the irony would at least earn a dry laugh, but I wasn’t in the mood for a laugh.
“There’s no one else I’d trust to take you home.”
That ship would need to sail farther than it had ever gone before, but that was a detail I’d share with the captain. I’d let him decide if it was possible and make the necessary provisions.
“I can’t go with you,” Andreas murmured. “But gods, I wish I could.”
I would take Andreas to Nelfinex. I would show him my city and castle. I would keep him there for the rest of my life. But if the Starling and Voster changed in Calandra, there was a chance it wouldn’t be safe for Andreas in Kenn.
Besides, we both knew he wouldn’t leave. He had too many obligations. Too many complications.
I tilted my face to the sky. “When I’m home, I’ll look up at the two moons and know you can see them, too. And even though we are an ocean apart, you’ll be with me.”
His hold tightened. “Fuck, I hate this.”
“So do I.” Turning in Andreas’s embrace, I rested my head against his chest, listening to his heart. The thrum pulsed so strongly in my own I was sure he could feel it, too.
Elvi’i lelvi’ov yelvi’u.
I love you.
When a Starling gave her heart, she gave it for life. No other man would take Andreas’s place. No other man would share my life.
All while he would go on with his. He’d marry that woman, his betrothed. He’d sleep beside her each moon. He’d have children who shared his tawny eyes and perfect smile.
I hated that future. I hated that woman. I hated that those children wouldn’t be mine.
“Kiss me,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. Ignoring the sting in my nose.
I’d have moons aboard that ship to cry.
Andreas took my face in his hands, searching my eyes. Then he sealed his mouth over mine, carrying me to his bed. And we gave each other one last moon to not think about tomorrow.
The Roslo docks at dawn were eerily quiet.
The walkways were empty, the market stalls shut behind tarps, and the shops closed and dark.
The air smelled sweeter, still chilled in the small hours of the morning.
The ocean waves smacked against the pylons of the docks, and the sky on the horizon was as dark as the clothes I’d donned this morning.
Gone were my gowns and slippers. It was fitting that I was dressed in the same pants and vest that had brought me across the Marixmore. Now they would take me home.
The pants were thinning at the knees. The sole of my left boot was coming loose. And my vest’s hem was frayed.
The elfalter rings were warm on my fingers. So was the necklace worn above my heart.
The only piece of Calandra I was taking with me was Andreas’s coat.
I’d stolen it from his dressing room this morning while he was asleep.
The sleeves were far too long, and it might as well have been a gown of its own for how it fell nearly to my knees.
But it smelled like him, like wood and soap and spice.
The captain hadn’t seemed surprised when I’d walked up to his ship this morning. He’d been at the stern, sipping a drink from a chipped cup.
Maybe he was a man who wasn’t easily shocked. Or maybe Andreas had told him to be at the ready for the sun I arrived. I’d ask later. We had plenty of suns ahead.
He still hadn’t given me his name, but he had agreed to take me wherever I told him to go. He’d asked for an hour to gather the necessary supplies, and then we would leave Roslo.
I’d wandered the docks for that hour before turning back. Every step down the walkway toward the Malynn was heavy, like I was wading through mud that came up to my waist.
Three men carried barrels across the plank between the dock and ship. A woman with short, spiked blond hair fitted her fingers between her lips and whistled to a bald man on the dock. He nodded and went to one of the thick ropes keeping the ship tied to a post.
There were five ropes left to untie. Five ropes, and we’d sail to the horizon, the crew following nothing but my instruction.
I pressed my hand to my heart.
And stopped.
The thrum was gone.
All I could feel was my heartbeat. I pressed harder, closing my eyes, waiting to feel it again.
Nothing.
If there was no thrum, then I had no way to find home.
No, that couldn’t be right. I’d felt it last moon on Andreas’s balcony. And I’d felt it this morning, hadn’t I?
Except I didn’t remember feeling it as I studied his face in the dark. I couldn’t remember the thrum when I slipped out of his bed to silently dress. I hadn’t felt it while I wrote a note to Kos before leaving the house and navigating the dark streets of Roslo.
Walking away had been excruciating. The pain must have masked the call.
So why couldn’t I feel it now? What did this mean?
I couldn’t get on this ship if there was no pull in my chest. I’d condemn us all to death. But if I didn’t leave, what did that mean for Andreas?
Would this mean his death? Would he even want me to stay in Quentis? I closed my eyes, torn between wanting the thrum to return and cheering that it was gone.
By the grace of the Divine, show me the path.
A wind, cold and sharp, blew the ocean spray against my face. A shout carried over the noise of the sea.
“Caspia.”
I turned away from the ship and toward the city.
Andreas ran down the dock, long legs eating up the distance between us. His hair was unruly, his shirt untucked. His eyes were wild and panicked. He didn’t stop running until I was in his arms. Until his nose was in my hair and my face was tucked into the crook of his neck.
Was this why the thrum was gone? Andreas had changed his mind. It was never me who’d had to decide. This was always Andreas’s choice to make.
“Stay with me.” He leaned away, taking my face in his hands. “Don’t go. Stay with me.”
“What about—”
“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.”
Tears flooded my eyes as a laugh or a sob, I couldn’t tell the difference, broke free. “Are you sure?”
This would change everything.
“Stay with me. My Caspia. Please.”
I threw my arms around his shoulders. “Until the Divine calls me home.”