Chapter 36 Sirsha #3
“I know pain.” Div crouched beside her, drawing circles in the dirt with her small hand.
“For once, I was a dragon of great wit and wile. I hid in the mountain fastnesses far to the north, a magnificent and singular creature. There was no one in all the world like me. Magic flowed from me like water from a glacier. I could change form. I could fly on the back of the north wind. I could move rivers and level forests. I was unstoppable. Or so I thought.”
Despite the fact that Sirsha knew this was but another of Div’s fanciful tales, she listened. It was a distraction to make her refocus. A question to make her forget.
“One day, I grew sick,” Div said. “Some illness that only haunts dragonkind. Humans caused it. I could not find a cure. And my family was gone, taken from me by human violence. There was no one to help me. I was alone. And terrified. But when I died, my power was so great that its removal left a tear in the fabric of this world. My spirit returned through that tear. But it was twisted. In pain. Only hearts make the pain go away. That is why I crave them.”
She looked at Sirsha, and there was no deception there.
Only understanding, one broken creature acknowledging another.
“You felt it, in the Owa Khel. For a moment, there was no pain here”—she touched Sirsha’s heart—“and even though it was a place of terror, you wished to stay. For it was better than the emptiness. Yes?”
Sirsha nodded. “Yes.”
“That is why I hunger, little witch. To fill the hole. To ease away the emptiness, just for a moment.”
A memory rose in Sirsha’s mind then. Something she’d forgotten because of her pain but that came back to her now.
“In Kotama, after I broke the Adah oath,” Sirsha said, “you spoke of your light being taken. You said they took it. Who did you mean?”
“Humans, of course. Your kind,” Div said.
“Other than humans, only one other creature is so cruel. Animals kill for food. They torment because they do not understand the pain of other beings. Even wraiths and efrits do not seek out violence. They are compelled to it, sometimes, but it is not by choice.”
“What’s the other creature?”
Div grimaced. “Hope that you do not find out, little witch.” She faded away and Sirsha remained crouched by the stream, pondering Div’s words, turning only when a soft step sounded close by. Arelia.
“All right, Sirsha?” Arelia dropped beside her, looking adorably awkward.
Despite the ache, Sirsha smiled. “You don’t usually ask that.”
“I’m trying to be more empathetic.” Arelia glanced surreptitiously at where Sufiyan was talking with Ma.
Even in the dark, Sirsha saw Arelia’s cheeks redden.
“No—no reason. I noticed that Sufiyan always asks questions and he always listens and it makes people feel good.” She took a deep breath before reaching out for Sirsha’s hand.
“Quil told us of what you’ve been through. I’m so sorry. I wish I could have been there. Helped you. Will you—will you tell me how you are now? Please?”
It was a sweet question, gently asked. But Sirsha couldn’t find the words to answer it honestly. “I’m f—”
“No,” Arelia said. “Don’t do that. Don’t keep your secrets inside. Secrets are monsters that live and feed in the shadows of our mind. They must be expelled. If you like, I can tell you one of my secrets first. Sometimes the best way to invite a secret is to share one of yours.”
Where do I begin? “I have to go to the jinn,” Sirsha said.
“I have to get their help. They’re the only ones that can bind this monster.
Loli told me as much. But she also told me I needed to know Div and I don’t.
Every time I try to get a story out of her, she lies.
She tells me something that feels like a shade of the truth, but never the whole thing. ”
“When I’m stuck, I research,” Arelia said. “You need to know more about her—you could start with her origins. Particularly as we’re going to one of the few people who might be able to tell you something.”
At Sirsha’s confusion, Arelia brightened, clearly relieved to be able to help.
“Laia of Serra is at the encampment, working in the infirmary.” She paused and looked at Quil, his back to them as he scanned the dark for whomever he awaited.
“I suppose he hasn’t gotten a chance to tell you about her role in Div’s appearance. Beyond the book she wrote, I mean?”
“No,” Sirsha said, mind racing. She had to speak with the Kehanni—but she’d need to keep Div away—
“Quil?” Someone called from the shadows of the canyon. Quil drew his scim with a rasp and the air was suddenly charged as the Jaduna called up their magic.
A huge hooded figure appeared from behind the portal. “Quil Farrar?” The voice was deep. Measured. A voice that commanded respect and trust.
A voice that Sirsha recognized.
Before Quil could respond, before the Jaduna could stop her, Sirsha was past all of them, walking directly toward the dark-haired man lowering his hood, silver eyes widening when he recognized her.
She forgot the broken Adah coin. Forgot Div.
Forgot everything but her rage for the person who had started this entire cursed journey.
“Elias bleeding Veturius,” she growled.
And then she punched him square in the face.