68. Jia
The wind nipped at Jia’s cheeks as she looked up into the dark sky. It had been raining off and on all day and there were still clouds in the sky. Even the stars seemed to have been snuffed out tonight. The summer night air was cool, and she had come up to the battlements to get a breath of fresh air. She sat perched on one of the flat crenelations of the wall, sitting on the top.
Sahana is alive. The news that their leader had survived was both the greatest news of her life, and selfishly she knew, the worst. It meant Volla had gone to the afterlife alone. It meant that Volla had been the only one to die that night.
Jia brushed her fingertips down her chest. She had been up for over an hour. The phantom pains of when she’d felt Volla dying plagued her dreams almost every night. She could still feel the devastating pain of the knife piercing through her chest, and it made sleeping nearly impossible even though she was exhausted, weary down to the bone.
Jia was and always would be proud of Volla, proud of all her wife had accomplished and proud that everyone had loved her so much. Volla had made her happy, had seen into the darkest parts of Jia’s soul and had loved every inch of her anyway.
But sometimes . . . sometimes Jia wondered if the pain of Volla’s loss was worth the love.
“Frostguard.”
Jia looked over her shoulder, expecting one of the Guardian’s soldiers to inform her she couldn’t be up here. Instead, Kaiya stood there, holding a witch-light up in her palm, her other hand on her hip.
“What’re you doing out here?” she asked.
Jia blushed, and guilt sat heavy in her stomach. It had been weeks since the hunt at the winery, and every time Kaiya talked to her or looked her way, she felt the same things. Shame and guilt. For a multitude of things.
With a casualness Jia didn’t really feel, she shrugged one shoulder. “Looking for stars.”
Kaiya had been cool with her since she had saved Jia’s life at the winery, and tonight was no different.
“Are you okay?” Kaiya asked her, looking her over clinically.
Jia didn’t have it in her to lie, so she just shrugged again and turned back to the black sky.
“You’re not going to jump, are you?”
Jia huffed out a bitter laugh and hunched into herself. She’d thought about it, about simply stepping off the side, but she didn’t think the fall would kill her. It would be a waste of her time. And she didn’t want to die, not really. She just wanted the pain festering and eating inside her, to end. She wanted Volla back.
Kaiya was so quiet, Jia thought she had walked away, but when she turned to look, Kaiya was still there, staring up at the moon, too.
“Come on, Frostguard,” Kaiya sighed, blowing out a deep, resigned breath. “I want to show you something I found last week in the woods.”
Kaiya made her go change into something warmer, then they trekked through the dark forest, using only a small witch-light Kaiya carried in her hand. For nearly twenty minutes Kaiya led her through the sparse underbrush.
“Where are we going?” Jia hissed as the underbrush scraped against her shins.
“Just trust me,” Kaiya whispered back.
“I do. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t let you lead me blind to my imminent death,” Jia grumbled.
Kaiya snorted. “We’re almost there.”
A few minutes passed, and Kaiya tucked the witch-light into her pocket. “We’re here.”
Jia took a few more steps around a large tree, then saw where Kaiya had led her.
A small patch of forest was . . . glowing. Bioluminescent moss spread across the forest floor, seeping out of a small pond in the center of the clearing, and creeping up the trees. The moss glowed in different colors, mostly in florescent green but with purple and pink patches, too. It illuminated everything around them in a soft green and purple glow.
Jia sucked in a breath, pressing her hand against her mouth in wonder as Kaiya toed a patch of incandescent moss close to where they stood.
“This moss is an invasive species from House of Light. They had a mass removal of it a few years ago from this area of the forest since it was choking out the native species and messing up the sleep schedules of the nocturnal bats and other animals that live in this area, but they must have missed some. I found this a few days ago during my patrol shift.”
“It’s beautiful,” Jia marveled, stepping forward, looking around at all the light, soaking it in.
“Yeah, I think so, too,” Kaiya agreed, moving to the edge of the water, and sitting down on the soft moss.
The moss cushioned her as Jia sat next to Kaiya, looking around in awe. They sat together for a long time in silence, admiring the moss and the way it illuminated the forest.
“Are you okay?” Kaiya asked softly after a while.
“Yeah,” Jia responded.
Kaiya slanted her a look. “No, you’re not.”
Jia studied the way the moss grew at the bottom of the pond, absorbing the light. “I’m fine.”
“Stop lying, Frostguard.”
Jia let out a long sigh, and finally looked over to meet Kaiya’s gaze. Concern lived there, in the warm color of her eyes, and something in Jia’s heart softened. “Okay. You’re right. I’m not fine.”
Kaiya nodded, and a frown pulled down at the corner of Kaiya’s mouth. “What happened?”
“Volla . . . my wife. She was killed protecting us on a mission in Lyondrea. Right before we came here.”
Kaiya nodded. She had heard it before. “And Isgra is her twin?”
Jia let out a bitter laugh and faced the pond again. “Identical twin.”
“Gods, I’m sorry, Jia.” Kaiya grimaced and rubbed at the back of her neck. “I am gonna ask this, and I want you to be honest. Are you trying to get yourself killed on the hunts?”
“No,” Jia answered quickly. Kaiya tilted her head unbelievingly, and Jia’s shoulders hunched slightly. “I’m not. Not actively. But if I were to lose my life . . . I wouldn’t fight it.”
Kaiya grimaced.
Jia brought her thighs to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Kaiya . . . I hurt. There is no ‘me’ anymore. She’s the one who died and yet there isn’t much left of me without her. I-I’m nothing. Nothing but an empty shell of anguish and tortured grief. I need it to end.”
Jia reached up and wiped away a tear with her finger. Kaiya turned to face her more fully. “I didn’t know the Torch while she was alive, but I know she wasn’t the only one who loves you. Live. If only for them. Greywood won’t make it out of this without you.”
“She has others supporting her.”
“If you think she can survive this without you, you’re a damn fool.”
Jia nodded slowly and forced herself to look Kaiya in the eye. She needed to talk about something else that had been plaguing her for weeks. “I don’t want to discuss that now. I want . . . I need to apologize to you, Kaiya. For saying what I did. For leading you on, for putting Death in a bad spot because of my actions, because you’re right. If I were to die on a hunt, my mother would not be pleased.”
Kaiya nodded and offered her a small smile. “Thank you.”
“I can’t offer you anything,” Jia said, the words like sawdust in her mouth. “I have nothing. I am nothing.” She was only grief and drowning loss now. “But I would like to be friends. I know I said we weren’t . . . but I would like to be. You and your people . . . they are extraordinary.”
“I didn’t bring you out here for that.” Kaiya offered her a somber smile. “I know the last thing you need is a lover. But you do need a friend. This place . . . well, it reminded me of you, and maybe you need a reminder that there is still light and beauty in this world, even in the depths of grief, even if it’s not as bright as you deserve. I know it could never match your loss, but I hope it helps . . . even a little.”
“Have you ever lost anyone special?”
Kaiya shook her head. “Not like that, not a mate. But when Ice invaded Death I lost my mother, and my two siblings. I defended the Whitewood with everything that I had to give, but in the end, it wasn’t enough.”
Jia’s eyes welled with tears as Kaiya leaned forward, plucking up a loose piece of bark from under some of the bright moss and gently placed it in the water. They watched it for a long moment as it slowly floated away.
“My grief always reminded me of the sea. At first, I was drowning and everything around me was nothing but wreckage. Even if I did see something beautiful, it cut me because they’d never see it. Everything good and beautiful reminded me of what I lost, and I was drowning.” Kaiya swallowed hard. “But somehow, I swam. Or floated. I found a reason to live even when the waves battered me and would try to pull me back under.
“I found Cannon and his friends a few months later through the army. I was beating anyone they set me against to spar, so they brought me to Cannon. He introduced me to the prince and to Ayres and the Guard, and they kept me busy. Gave me a purpose. Then suddenly it felt like the waves weren’t hitting as hard and were farther and fewer between. I started to feel I could survive, even though I had been uncertain for so long. I don’t know what it’s like to lose a mate but hang on. Swim. Find something in the wreckage to float on. At the very least, give yourself the chance to find out if you will ever be able to breathe again.”
The tears that had been collecting in Jia’s eyes finally fell. Give yourself the chance to find out if you will ever be able to breathe again. Gods, she was going to sob.
Kaiya looked out to the water again, and Jia forced herself to cry silently. She basked in the light in the dark night that surrounded her, and in her grief and lost love. This woman saw her. Kaiya understood her and her sorrows in a way that not even Rorax could understand.
They remained silent for a long while, as Jia fought for composure. Eventually, when her tears stopped and her throat unknotted, Jia reached out to brush Kaiya’s fingertips with her own.
“Thank you, Whitethorn.”