Chapter Four Furi
Chapter Four
Furi
Furi watched as Yeeran approached the boundary.
‘Aiftarri,’ she said, and she felt the magic that made Mosima a prison stretch for a moment to let Yeeran enter.
She had been waiting for over an hour for Yeeran to return. It was hard enough seeing her, but it was harder still to be apart. Every minute she spent topside was agony for Furi, each second filled with a new worry.
Even though the role of ambassador had been Furi’s idea, it did nothing to ease her anxiety. And Furi was not used to feeling anxious, it irritated her.
But as she took in Yeeran’s face, her frustration turned to horror.
Blood streaked her cheek, and before she knew what she was doing, Furi had stepped towards her, her thumb running along her jaw.
‘What happened?’ she said. Her eyes flashed with rage. If the elves had harmed Yeeran then Furi would ride to battle this moment.
Yeeran stiffened with surprise as Furi regarded her, searching for the injury.
‘You have blood on your cheek,’ Furi said.
‘Oh,’ Yeeran looked down at her hands. ‘I must have cut my palm on a rock, and when I wiped my face…’
Her gaze skittered away from Furi’s and they stood still for a moment, neither breathing as Furi’s hand rested just above Yeeran’s neck.
Furi could feel Yeeran’s pulse racing beneath her fingers.
It was the first time she had touched Yeeran since the night she had uncovered her father’s treachery. She recalled the moment.
‘Death is all around us,’ she had said to Yeeran then. She had meant to walk away, but Yeeran had reached for her hand and held it so tightly their blood had beat as one.
‘But we, Furi, are alive. Don’t walk away from me now. As long as you’re willing to fight for the love we have, I’ll be here, by your side.’
She’d had two choices: fight, or lay down her sword. But Furi had been a warrior for so long. ‘I’m so tired of fighting,’ she had said. Then, she had unravelled her fingers from Yeeran’s and walked away.
And that was it, the love they’d so carefully stoked had burned out. Well, that’s what she told herself.
Now, Furi dropped her hand from Yeeran’s cheek, the reverberation of that night thrumming through her veins. She had been the one to break this thing between them. She had been the one who had given up.
She knew she had taken the easy route. Their relationship had proved more than merely rocky, it was damn well mountainous. Then, after Sahar had been uncovered as the Authority, everything and everyone she had trusted had been destabilised. She had to let Yeeran go.
But I never stopped loving you. Furi’s mouth drew together as though she were going to speak the words. Yeeran’s gaze rested on her lips, but no sound came out and the moment passed.
Furi moved a few paces back until her heels rested on the cliff’s edge.
Death behind and life ahead. But she wasn’t ready to take either step.
‘How go the negotiations?’ she asked to distract her from her thoughts.
Yeeran grimaced. ‘Not well, they want more fraedia.’
Furi’s gaze snapped to Yeeran’s, her longing sharpening to anger. ‘They cannot have it. If they take any more, Mosima will cease to function.’
‘I know that, and that’s what I said.’
‘How were you gone half a day? Seems like a quick conversation to me.’
Yeeran’s nostrils flared–the only sign of her irritation. ‘I tried everything, but they won’t give up their obeah-skin weapons if we don’t increase the fraedia.’
Furi hissed, her fangs slipping out from her top lip. ‘They insult us. Let us skin their soldiers and see how they fare.’
‘We cannot give them any cause for violence. They are so close to raising arms against us.’
Furi laughed. ‘Let them. What can they achieve with us locked in here?’
Yeeran rubbed her brow and Furi almost felt guilty for the lines she’d caused on her forehead. ‘We need to give them something—’
‘You are not suggesting we let them continue with their obeah weapons?’
‘Of course not,’ Yeeran snapped.
She was more frustrated than Furi had realised. Anger bubbled beneath the surface of Furi’s skin, but for Yeeran it was often buried deep. Like a well, it had some way to go before it overfilled and affected her demeanour.
‘Then what do you suggest?’ Furi tried to speak more gently, but she worried it sounded mocking.
Yeeran took a breath. ‘We need to invite them to Mosima.’
‘No.’
‘Listen—’ With every attempt to speak, Yeeran stepped towards her.
‘No.’
‘They need to—’
‘No.’
‘Furi!’ Yeeran grabbed her wrists. A flush of rage ran from her neck to her collarbone. Her eyes were blazing, her touch hot. ‘We cannot go on like this. Something needs to give.’
Furi let herself be bound by Yeeran’s grip for a second longer than she needed to before she shrugged her off, her shoulder knocking into the cavern wall. Whether it was that slight vibration, or the gods themselves, something creaked in the rock above them.
When Furi looked up, it took her mind a moment to register the obeah-sized boulder falling directly where she was standing.
I’m going to die, she thought. She’d never been frightened of death–only of leaving things unfinished: the treaty with the elves, reclaiming the Fae Lands, ending the curse…Yeeran. As Yeeran’s face filled her mind, Furi felt sure hands grip her waist and pull her backwards.
The red stone landed in Furi’s shadow, making a dense thud and blowing up a plume of dust. A few smaller rocks followed the first until the cavern walls were once again still.
You wouldn’t even be able to see my body beneath all that, she thought as she looked at the mound. She shuddered.
‘You’re all right,’ Yeeran said, squeezing her waist before releasing her.
Yeeran is always there, even now. The realisation sent her thoughts into turmoil.
‘Thank you,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Rock slides are so rare.’
Yeeran waved away her actions as though they were inconsequential and picked up the conversation from before.
‘You know I’m right about this. Bringing the elves into Mosima will also prove to them how essential the fray is.
At the moment they have no reason to believe that we are not hoarding fraedia to spite them. ’
Furi shook her head wordlessly. She was still thinking about her near death. They were not far from where her cousin, Nerad, had fallen and died.
Another traitor in her family. Another’s trust squandered.
She glanced at Yeeran. But what if I’ve been wrong, what if Yeeran is the only person I can trust?
She shook her thoughts free and tried to recall the thread of the conversation. ‘It’s too risky letting the elves into Mosima.’
‘We’ll have precautions in place, no weapons, a small party only. Let us at least discuss this with Rayan; I think you will come to see reason in this matter.’
‘Rayan has not left his chambers all week,’ Furi said tonelessly. ‘He is lovesick for Lettle. He cares not for this war.’
‘That is not true, and you know it. He bleeds.’
Furi looked at Yeeran, the words tumbling out of her before she could stop them. ‘We all bleed.’
Yeeran’s head jerked as though startled.
Furi knew the words laid bare the depth of her pain and she did not like feeling vulnerable, so she turned on her heel and called behind her, ‘Let us go then and find the king. See if you can both change my mind as you so clearly think you can.’
—
It turned out to only take two hours to change Furi’s mind. It wasn’t anything that Rayan had said that made her pivot; if anything, it was what he didn’t say.
Over the last few months, they had resorted to meeting in his royal chambers.
At first, they had been fearful of being overheard in the forest–they hid so many secrets now–and Rayan suggested they talk in his rooms. It went on like that for many weeks, until Furi noticed he rarely left them.
She had then proposed they go to the war room where their map of the continent was, for easy reference.
The next day Rayan had had the entire map and all its tokens brought into his living room.
The chambers barely resembled their previous function.
The sofas were lined with books as Rayan continued to research the humans, obsessively, some might say, and the walls were covered in notes.
He had no reason to leave the chamber now, and he rarely did, preferring to eat amongst his work too.
‘Rayan? Are you listening?’ Furi asked him. He had sat passively staring into the distance as Yeeran had presented her case for why they should welcome the fae into Mosima.
‘I’m listening,’ he said quietly. Though Furi wasn’t sure he was. He was only ever half-present, his mind beyond the walls of Mosima, out in the wilderness with Lettle.
She didn’t know what had happened between them, only that it had soured when Sahar uncovered Lettle’s lies.
The one born of a storm’s mist shall be your beloved. But when the waning moon turns, you will grant them their death.
Lettle had been stupid to hide the extent of the prophecy from them. Furi was glad she was far away, less likely to bring harm to Rayan in the meantime.
He could die of a broken heart, Amnan said pointedly. The obeah lay by her feet, grounding her as he always did.
True, she admitted. Sometimes when she looked at Yeeran, the pain was so great she thought she might die of it too.
‘We should let them in,’ Rayan said.
‘You understand what that will mean? Elves walking in Mosima?’ Furi said.
‘That is nothing new,’ Yeeran said coolly.
‘If they will not concede as Yeeran says, then what choice do we have?’ Rayan said.
‘We negotiate harder.’
Yeeran put her hands on her hips, making it very clear what she thought of Furi’s suggestion.
‘The people will revolt, we cannot guarantee the elves’ safety,’ Furi said.
Rayan shook his head, but his expression didn’t change. ‘Mosima isn’t the place it was four months ago. Golan’s work with the Free the Light Initiative has changed the mood in the city. Even with the army at our door, the Mosima is stable.’