Chapter Nineteen Fenlia
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Fenlia
Fen has never been interested in knowing more about Cieli.
She did not think she would ever see her again after she healed her face at Aliamon’s and Calissia’s request. Cat has certainly never offered more information about the other Reaper, and considering the terms of their departure from Himmelsheim, Fen did not feel particularly inclined to ask additional questions.
Her understanding of Cieli is thus: she followed the orders of her king above all others.
And so, Fen is more than a little surprised when Cieli ignores those orders and rides after her and Marina on their way to Himmelsheim and intercepting Zinnitzia at Great Dawn Pass.
‘Fen,’ Marina calls to her when they notice the rider behind them. Then they both guide their horses down from an extended lope to a careful walk, allowing the Reaper time to catch them. Fen scowls as Cieli draws near. She asks, as officiously as she can, ‘What exactly do you think you’re doing?’
‘I’m going with you,’ Cieli informs her, rather unnecessarily at this point.
‘Why? You were supposed to go to Crowen.’
‘Yes,’ Cieli agrees, waving one hand this way and that, as if brushing the complaint clear out of the air.
‘But she is leaving you halfway – off to find this Zinnitzia Giver, right? So what happens if you run into any refugees from the city on your way to Himmelsheim?’ They’ll die.
They’ll die, or continue to be plague carriers, because Fen will be unable to heal them on her own.
Fen bites her lip, stymied by the revelation. But Marina takes far less time to consider it. ‘Come along, then.’
‘Cat told her to go to Crowen!’ Fen argues.
‘Stello Alest told me to help care for his people. The people of Soleb are now his people, are they not?’ Cieli argues back.
Fen very nearly says no. She stops herself just in time.
Her tongue forms the word, but the sound catches in her throat.
Cat is Elician’s husband. Soleb is Cat’s country now as much as Alelune is (or will be).
Cieli may be interpreting Cat’s orders as rigid and absolute, but Fen knows him well enough that he is rarely so precise.
He expects, sometimes, for those around him to know what he wants and means.
His hisses are an entire language built upon sharing emotions and feelings by intonation, and to Cieli, understanding Cat’s implications may well be second nature.
Maybe Cat did want her to do this. Or maybe Cieli is just lying.
‘She’s here now,’ Marina decides evenly. ‘And we don’t have time to waste. Come.’ And then she leans into her horse, sending it back into a lope, and Fen hurries to do the same. Cieli rides in pace just behind them, a silent but thoroughly irritating presence.
They ride long and hard. Horses are not built for extended endurance runs.
They are built for quick bursts – a few miles at best – that separate them and their predators.
Long-distance riding requires a far different set of muscles and training.
It also requires far more understanding of a horse’s individual needs.
A lope lasts longer than a gallop, a trot lasts longer than a lope.
Switching between the two helps extend that time, but eventually even walking or stopping is necessary.
Still, each time Fen is forced to stop, she grits her teeth.
She peers along the open road and farmlands, hoping to catch sight of anyone who might have come from Altas.
She hopes, too, that none of them are sick.
That they got out, somehow, without contracting the disease and everyone’s anxiety has been for nothing.
That hope fluctuates the longer their journey takes from running to walking to stopping altogether.
She imagines the horrors, the potential for destruction.
Fen hopes she never has a chance to meet Gillage.
From everything she has heard, the boy King of Alelune is a monster fit only for an execution; anything less is simply too kind a punishment for what he has done.
She says as much to Cieli and Marina the second time they’re forced to wait for the horses to drink and eat and recuperate before continuing on.
‘For someone who is apparently gifted by the god of life, you are so quick to imagine death,’ Cieli comments.
‘And you think he deserves to live?’ Fen snaps back.
Cieli glances at her warily, but Fen ignores the look. She never agreed to friendship with all Alelunen Reapers. Cat is Cat. It took time to get to know and trust him. But even with Cat’s favour – she will not extend that same faith to Cieli.
And Cieli has already proven that she has no trouble killing anyone that stands in her way.
She would have killed King Aliamon and Queen Calissia without a moment’s hesitation if Cat had not stopped her.
That knowledge alone irks Fen to the core.
But Cieli also says, ‘Gillage is a child,’ as if she has different estimations of what constitutes monstrous.
‘Children who start genocides don’t deserve to live either,’ Fen argues.
‘One city does not a genocide make.’
‘So that makes what they did right?’
‘Fen,’ Marina cautions, but Cieli talks over her.
‘Those Reapers were promised Altas as a place to live in,’ Cieli replies.
‘I see little reason why else they would have continued moving throughout Soleb – they aren’t professional soldiers, used to being commanded within an army.
I see even less reason for them to have listened to the soldiers who brought them there in the first place once their task was completed.
Those soldiers would not have wanted to continue working with them for long either.
They only fought the Soleben army when it came for them to defend the city they had taken as their own.
Any journey beyond Altas would have been unsustainable.
So again, they slaughtered a city for the city.
That is not genocide. That is barbarity. I never claimed they were good people.’
‘And yet you were arguing for them to help our Givers.’
‘Are Solebens as a whole never anything other than honourable?’ Cieli asks.
‘Was it not your uncle who murdered our queen at the Blessedsafe? Was it not your people who captured Prince Marias and forced Altas into Soleben territory in the first place? Is it not your people who steal our blue stones and—’
‘Enough,’ Marina snaps. ‘The both of you. Alelune has done wrong, Soleb has done wrong. Both countries and people from those countries have done wrong by each other. And you both are in a position now where unless you work together, all those people will die.’
Some deserve it more than others, Fen thinks, but for once manages to hold her tongue.
She keeps her arms crossed in front of her chest and stares hatefully at her horse, waiting for it to finish getting itself sorted out and wondering if she could just heal it back into riding condition like they did with Lio when he first came home.
They still don’t talk when they do eventually get a chance to ride.
It’s probably for the best.
They find their first group of travellers who fled from Altas not far from Great Dawn Pass.
If this group is already here…it is very likely that others have already reached the pass and crossed the mountains.
There truly will be no stopping this plague from spreading if that’s the case. Every territory will be affected.
Marina leads the way to the group. She hops from her horse in a swift and elegant motion.
‘Is anyone here feeling ill?’ she asks as Fen and Cieli dismount.
The leader of their party, a dark-skinned man with a thick roll of cloth wrapped tightly around the top of his head, approaches her with a deeply earnest expression. He holds a bundle in his arms.
‘I am Rickard,’ he introduces slowly. ‘This is Maya.’ He holds the bundle up, revealing an ashen-faced child, perhaps no older than two. She is sweating and her lips are cracked. When her brown eyes open, the sclera is red and coated in pus. ‘Can you help her?’
Cieli hovers just behind Fen’s shoulder as she draws close to the child.
Fen asks, ‘Who else?’ because she knows: it cannot just be little Maya.
And it is not. It takes time, but the group begins to admit their woes: aches and pains, swelling and bruising, coughs and difficulty breathing.
Some are better off than others, but they are all exhausted and tired, and the only reason their party had caught up in the first place is because this particular group had been slowing down more and more to accommodate the limitations of their sick charges.
‘What is it?’ Rickard asks as Fen reaches for the child to take into her arms. She is smaller than the first girl that Fen had failed to heal.
Smaller than that first child who died because Fen couldn’t make things right.
Maya’s limbs are limp and useless. Her head hangs heavily, and Fen needs to support every part of the girl to keep her from slipping free.
She touches Maya’s skin and knows right away: there is too much life in the girl’s body.
Her gut flora is replicating faster than it is being replaced.
New blood cells are pumping into veins that are not managing the extra flow well enough.
She is not passing waste but holding it all inside as every part of her body is screaming live live live and not enough of it is fading from existence.
‘Cieli, come here,’ Marina calls.
‘Can’t you do it with me?’ Fen asks.
‘The point is to make sure that Cieli can help you get to Himmelsheim, isn’t it?’ Marina cuts back. ‘Make sure you have a good grip on Maya’s arm. You cannot let go of her while Cieli is touching her.’