Chapter Twenty-Six Yeeran
Chapter Twenty-Six
Yeeran
‘We need to surrender.’
The four words sounded like a death knell.
‘You can’t be serious, Furi,’ Yeeran said.
‘Why not?’ Furi said quietly. ‘I’m tired, my people are tired.’ The queen lay back against the sofa in Rayan’s chambers. Her eyes had lost some of their light.
Yeeran went to her now, keen to reignite the spark in her eyes. ‘We cannot surrender. If we do, everything we did was for nothing.’
‘If we surrender, Lettle will be able to enter Mosima safely. They’re at the border of the army camp now,’ Rayan said.
The king had been following Lettle’s journey across the continent through Ajax’s eyes. As each day passed it was as though he were a little bit more alive, like a wilting plant given water drop by drop. It was no surprise he was so ready to surrender if it meant reuniting with Lettle.
Golan, on the other hand, had withdrawn more with each passing day.
It was clear he was troubled about reuniting with Alder.
So it surprised Yeeran when he said, ‘They’re right, this will never end until we end it.
’ He still wore a set of brightly coloured gloves, and his hands clenched as he spoke.
‘As I understand it, when we free the humans from the obeah’s bodies, the boundary will come down too.
So no matter what happens, the elves will one day pillage Mosima.
We might as well make the choice our own. ’
‘To give up is to surrender Mosima,’ Yeeran said. ‘They’ll mine all of the fraedia and the city will be left to die.’
‘It’s already dying, Yeeran,’ Furi said. ‘Half the fields are burnt or destroyed. The poisoned estuary has seeped into our riverways, killing off swathes of amphibians. And that’s not even including the mammals who feasted on the poisoned fish.’
Yeeran grimaced. It was true, death was everywhere she looked. But she wasn’t ready to concede. ‘There is still much life here–the trees and plants, the magnolias that still bloom—’
‘I cannot keep doing this for a single magnolia tree, Yeeran,’ Furi said dryly.
‘But what about the people? This is their home.’
Like it had become hers.
‘I am thinking about what is best for my people,’ Furi said, her eyes glistening.
Yeeran realised the depth of her pain. This decision is like acid on her heart; it is eating her.
She kneeled beside Furi and cupped her cheek. ‘I know you don’t make this sacrifice lightly, but there is more to consider here. If we surrender, you know the elves will not relinquish the Fae Lands. Lorhan will remain the Bleeding Field.’
Rayan shook his head. ‘What other option do we have, Yeeran? We lost three hundred and eighty-two people to the wasting pox, most of them soldiers. We are running out of food and soon that number will increase. Too many people have died, and the battle hasn’t even begun.’
Yeeran had given up so much to fight for Mosima: her regiment, her city, even Salawa’s love. All she had rejected in order to stand shoulder to shoulder with the fae because she believed in their cause of reclaiming their homeland.
Meow.
Miller made himself known by breaking the tense silence in the room. He trotted through the obeah door as though it were made for him and jumped onto Furi’s lap.
The cat had made a full recovery and become a permanent guest in the palace.
Furi stroked him fondly.
‘See, Miller’s on my side.’
Yeeran looked at the queen, imploring her one final time. ‘You’ll be forced to make a home on the Wasted Marshes.’
‘The elves have done it for nearly half a year, I think we’d survive,’ Furi said.
She was not changing her mind, and from the looks on Golan and Rayan’s faces, neither were they.
Yeeran sat back on her heels. ‘Let us at least put it to a vote. Let the people choose on this matter.’
‘Yes,’ Golan said. ‘A decision this big cannot be made by us alone.’
Rayan and Furi exchanged a glance then nodded.
‘Yes, I think you’re right. Let us put it to the people,’ Furi said.
—
Yeeran watched from the edges of the Royal Woodland as Furi and Rayan called the animals of the city to their side.
Letters had been drafted and were being dutifully attached to the animals’ hindquarters to circulate around Mosima.
But Yeeran knew the whisper networks would work faster than any letter.
‘You’re disappointed,’ Golan said beside her.
Yeeran ran her hand through her short curls. The seawater had dried it out and it was in dire need of oiling.
‘Frustrated more than disappointed. We’ve been fighting for so long, I don’t like giving up.’
Golan frowned. ‘You have held up your weapon for so long that you no longer feel your body straining to lay it down. Can’t you see that?’
Yeeran had been a soldier for two decades. First it had been Salawa who had given her purpose, then Furi.
‘I’m not sure who I am without a war to fight,’ she admitted softly.
‘You’ll still be you,’ Golan said. ‘But you’ll be lighter as you’ll no longer carry the burden of other lives in your hands.’
Yeeran stroked her drum absentmindedly as she spoke. ‘I don’t even know what I’m good at beyond fighting. I don’t have the skills you do.’
Golan laughed bitterly. ‘Do you think I knew I was good at painting faces until I did it? Perhaps if I’d been born an elf I would have been a chieftain by now. Necessity is what moulds us. You’ll find something you’re good at.’
Yeeran looked at Furi. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright and clear as she helped pull together the missives.
Maybe I’ll become a healer, she thought.
Her time with Jay in the quarantine district had been rewarding.
Though it had been awful to see people die under her care, she hadn’t been overwhelmed by guilt.
Their blood was on her hands, yes, but at least she knew she’d done everything she could to prevent their deaths, not cause them.
You would make a good healer, Pila said. And so would I–I like giving cuddles the most.
Yeeran smiled. There are more things to healing than cuddling.
I know, but you did cuddle Furi a lot when she was sick.
I did, Yeeran replied. You could, you know–become a healer when you’re human.
I will do many things when I’m human. But also, I will not do many things. It will be my choice.
Choice was something the human souls had had very little of.
You will be able to do whatever you want, Pila, Yeeran said sincerely.
I would like to travel most of all, I think.
The thought of being separated from Pila twisted her heart. I hope you will still come and visit me often?
Of course, she promised.
Their inevitable unravelling was getting closer with every step that Lettle made towards Mosima. Yeeran’s blood accelerated at the thought.
‘No matter what happens, this is an ending of a kind, isn’t it?’ Golan said, and for a moment Yeeran wondered if he too could read her mind. ‘Whether the people vote to fight or leave, we either die or we lose Mosima.’
His words, though morbid, were said with relief. ‘It’s nice to feel in charge of your own future,’ he added.
‘I suppose.’
They both watched in silence as a group of haba jumped into the skeletal branches of the trees to disperse the messages tied to their legs.
It wouldn’t be long now before the citizens would start to gather.
She had started the morning knowing exactly how she would vote, but now she wondered if Golan was right–she could feel her body straining to lay her drum to rest.
She looked at the fray. ‘If we must make a home on the Wasted Marshes, at least we will have true sunlight once more.’
Golan smiled, his gaze turning hazy from his own imagination. ‘And true moonlight…oh, and stars! Have you ever seen a shooting star? I’ve heard of them in books but never seen one.’
‘Maybe Furi and I can erect our tent next to you and Alder? But not too close, of course. I wouldn’t want to be woken up by your—’
She stopped when she saw the expression on Golan’s face. ‘What is it?’
Golan rubbed at his eyes, smearing his make-up with the tears that had gathered there. ‘I do not know if Alder will still want me after all that has befallen him.’
‘He’s still the same, Golan.’
‘Is he? Neither of us can know that.’
Yeeran enfolded Golan into her arms.
‘What if I’m no longer enough for him? He was emperor once.’ His words were muffled against Yeeran’s shoulder.
‘Afa and Alder are not the same. You must remember that, or your love is already lost.’
Golan pushed himself away from Yeeran and said quietly, avoiding her eyes, ‘He killed all the humans in the world.’
‘Afa did.’
Golan nodded as though to reassure himself. ‘Yes, Afa did. Alder could never be so cruel.’
‘Never. He is the gentlest person I have ever met. Except maybe for you.’ Golan gave her a rueful smile and wiped at his face.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
Yeeran could tell that Rayan had been patiently waiting for a break in their conversation before striding over.
‘The letters have been sent,’ he said. ‘The fae have already begun to gather in the courtyard beyond the woodland. I’ll go up ahead and make sure the stage is set.’
‘I’ll help Furi and meet you there,’ she said.
But Rayan lingered, his skin draining of blood. He swore.
Yeeran knew immediately he was looking through Ajax’s eyes.
‘What is it?’
‘Couldn’t she have waited just another hour? Stubborn, reckless, impetuous woman!’ he said.
‘Rayan?’ Yeeran said, gripping his wrist. ‘What’s happened to Lettle?’
His eyes blazed. ‘They’re going to infiltrate the army by trying to blend in.’
‘Oh.’ Yeeran’s hand dropped to her waist. ‘It’s risky, but if there was anyone who could talk her way out of a battlefield it would be Lettle.’
‘It’s more than risky.’ He seemed annoyed Yeeran wasn’t more concerned. But she’d seen her sister cross live battlefields to pilfer pockets for food and had learned just how tenacious Lettle could be.
‘She’ll be all right, Rayan,’ she said. She has to be all right… There was no world in which Yeeran lived and Lettle didn’t, so she didn’t entertain the thought.
Rayan scrubbed at his face. ‘We need to get the vote over and done with. We need to open the boundary so she can enter.’
‘Go, get the stage set up. We’ll be there.’
He nodded, his gaze going distant once more as he began to walk away, one eye in Mosima, and one eye topside.
Golan let out a slow breath. ‘I suppose this is it. Time to go choose our future.’
His eyes were still red and Yeeran squeezed his hand. ‘How many shooting stars do you think we’ll see on our first night?’
He laughed. ‘A hundred at least.’
‘Shall we stay up all night? Toast bread by the fire?’
‘Bread? We can do better than that. Have you ever grilled salted mango?’
They let themselves dream for just a few brief moments, knowing deep down in their hearts that it would never become a reality.