22. Rhaek
RHAEK
T he cave looked the same.
It always looked the same after a reset. That was the point.
I meant, it felt the same.
I stood at the entrance. The shelf at the back.
The uneven floor. The way the space held just enough room for two people to not touch each other, if they chose not to.
She had chosen not to. For a long time she had chosen not to.
I had put between us and left it there. I answered her questions and watched the distance shrink without either of us acknowledging it.
I looked at the empty cave for a long moment.
She had sat there. Right there, on that floor, her hands in her lap, asking me things she needed to know while the water rose outside and the alien creatures roamed outside.
I had wanted, then, to tell her everything.
I had not.
I turned and checked the tide.
It had reached its peak adn was now beginning to drop. The crossing would be cold but manageable. I stepped into the water without slowing. It came to mid-shin, the current pulling south, the rock uneven underfoot. I had crossed worse.
I had the speech ready.
I had built it on the ridge while the water rose and she was somewhere I couldn't see and the instinct was running its sequence and I was holding the line.
The apology first. Then the full explanation.
My species, the bond, the logic underneath everything I had done.
The way we do not think in terms of control.
The frame is protection. The frame is always the best possible outcome for the person the bond names.
I understood now that she did not share the frame. That what felt like care from inside my species' logic had felt, to her, like something that had been taken from her.
I was going to say that.
I was going to stand in front of her and say it out loud and let her do what she wanted with it.
But I needed her to know the truth.
The bone reef hill was ahead of me, the white formations catching the light, visible from every point on the platform. The highest place. I had watched her run to it.
I came up off the crossing and onto the base of the hill.
“Helsa.”
No answer.
I pushed through the first line of formations, the pale branching shapes narrowing the path, and called again.
“Helsa.”
Wind. The low sound the formations made when the air moved through them. Nothing else.
I went deeper. The centre of the hill, where the formations were closest together. The northern edge. The south face. The small sheltered space between the two largest formations where someone might sit if they needed to be enclosed.
Empty.
I stopped.
I turned back toward the centre of the hill and that was when I almost stepped on it.
A print.
Small human prints.
I went still as my eyes tracked them.
There were more. Leading away from me through the formation corridor, the stride long and urgent. The heels burying deep, rolling as if she were running. I followed the line of them with my eyes and then froze.
By the Creator, no…
A second set of prints.
Coming from the water's edge.