Chapter 42 Cero
Cero
Cero woke in a strange place. A rocky black seashore surrounded by a roaring midnight sea. The sky above was the color of ghas-stained teeth. This place reminded him of the wild southern coasts of Kegar, the waves that slammed against the rocks as if they thirsted for the very marrow of the land.
The air pushed close, weighty, and yet the sky was so vast that Cero understood his insignificance.
“You have finally been named.”
A boy of about twelve spoke from beside Cero. He was small and delicate, with familiar gray irises and dark hair. He reminded Cero of Karinna, but his skin was a touch warmer and the tilt of his eyebrows less severe. He had the look of a child just entering young adulthood. But his eyes—
His eyes were older. As if he’d seen too much.
“Who are you?” Cero asked.
“I am Ruh,” the boy said. Cero knew the name. Karinna’s dead brother.
“Just Ruh.” The boy picked up a rock from the shore and tossed it into the water. The water surged, as if angry. “I mean nothing,” he went on. “The more important question is who are you, Cero bet-Dafra?”
“I’m no one.”
Ruh laughed, but it was sad. “You are Cero bet-Dafra, son of Kegar and Tel Ilessi of your people. You are the opposite of no one. Do you accept your name? Your burden?”
“I’m not the Tel Ilessi,” Cero burst out. “Those stories are just stories.”
“Some stories are just stories,” Ruh said. “Some are lies. Yours is neither. Your story is a storm. It will remake the world, or destroy it, perhaps. Do you know why?”
This was a dream, Cero thought. It must be. But he still responded. “I don’t,” he said.
“Because your tale is sacred,” Ruh whispered, then laughed, as if he’d just told Cero a delightful joke. But Cero did not understand.
“You’ve been visiting me in dreams. Why?”
“You are lonely, Cero bet-Dafra. I am lonely too. Perhaps I want a friend.”
“You say you are Ruh,” Cero said. “But I think you are something else. Ruh is dead. Aiz betrayed him. Mother Div killed him. I wish it weren’t so, because it is wrong. But that is the truth.”
“I am Ruh.” The boy looked away. “And I am dead. And yet here I am. How do you explain that?”
“What do you want from me?” Cero said.
“I want you to give me back my heart, Cero bet-Dafra.”
What in the hells? “Ah—I can’t do that. Div—” devoured it, he wanted to say, for though Aiz had never told him, he’d seen that horror in her mind once, when she was thinking of it. “Div took it,” he finished.
Ruh reached out and touched Cero’s face; his hand was not a hand but a paw, and his nudge was not that of a human but of a very impatient cat.
Cero blinked awake, coughing seawater, utterly discombobulated. His body ached with exhaustion, heavy, as if his skin had been coated in lead.
Abzi stared down at him, nudging his face with hers before meowing pointedly, impatient for him to get up.
His blurred vision cleared as he stared up into an impossibly blue sky.
A skinny tree laden with small golden fruit swayed above him.
Warm, pale blue waves lapped the sand he lay on, and the air was warm too, and very dry.
The sun was directly overhead and it beat down mercilessly.
Beyond him stretched a line of scrubby pale hills and a thicket of trees that indicated a river somewhere close.
Far to the west, blue-purple mountains cut into the sky.
They’d reached land. He had no idea how. They’d been miles from the shore. The last thing Cero saw before blacking out was the Sail careening toward the ocean.
Every bone in his body hurt. His goggles and cap were gone, his hair a tangled knot, the shirt of his leather flight suit ripped to shreds. As he sat up, he realized why. The Sail sat a dozen yards away, listing to one side.
A mangled, broken mess.
The beach was a long stretch of fine lavender sand, a color so unusual he struggled to comprehend it. Smoothed rocks of all hues were washed up on the shore like frosted jewels.
Karinna was nowhere to be seen.
Abzi yowled now, clearly in distress as she looked toward the Sail. And while Cero might not be able to speak to the creature like Karinna, he understood an order when he heard it. He got to his feet, nearly losing his balance as he staggered to the other side of the Sail.
Karinna lay half-under one of the broken wings, on her left side. The sand around her body was a dark pink. She wasn’t moving. She wasn’t breathing.
He knelt beside her, turned her gently on her back, and winced. Her body was cold, and she had a great wound tearing through her from her heart, up to her collarbone and down her bicep.
She was—
Dead.
“No,” he muttered. He could not accept this. He would not. For the past few weeks, his world had been his Sail, Abzi, and Karinna. And though she drove him mad at times, he’d developed a strange sort of kinship with her.
They were both lost creatures. He because he’d trusted and aided a monster.
She because she hadn’t protected her brother and she couldn’t keep a friend to save her life.
She was stubborn and angry, but so was he.
Unlike Cero, Karinna didn’t bother hiding her insolence or her rage.
He admired her for it. Admired the fact that she never pretended to be anything she wasn’t.
Perhaps if she had been with anyone else, she would be dead. But she was with him and he could fix this. Possibly.
He’d brought Aiz back before. Many times, but usually she’d only been gone for a few minutes. Abzi had been gone for hours, and that had taken more willpower than he thought possible.
Karinna hasn’t been gone very long. Her body is mostly intact. Figure it out. He reached for his magic, trying to look for some spark of spirit yet left in her.
But his magic felt distant. Like he’d drawn too much of it. Perhaps he had by trying to get them here, even if he didn’t remember it. Abzi cried out, sounding like a wailing child as she circled Karinna.
“It’s okay,” Cero said. “I’ll fix her like I fixed you. I promise.” He pulled Karinna gently into his arms, hating how cold she was, how all the color had leached out of her skin.
“Come on, rebel,” Cero muttered. “Come back to me.”
Cero took a breath. Flying for so many days had left him rattled and tired. He could not afford either. He must exhibit utter control, else Karinna would slip away.
He put his hand over her wound. He could see her bones in his mind, the sinews of her body, the tension in her muscles. He willed her body to stitch back together, to heal. But when he looked down at her, she was as cold and still as before.
His magic remained out of reach. Panic began to eat at him, and he forced himself to be patient, despite his fear for her.
To go deeper. The warm water lapped at his ankles, and with every wave, he felt his magic strengthen.
He lifted Karinna—Spires, she was so light, too light—and carried her into the sea.
With the waves soughing around him, he held her to his body. He imagined her huge gray eyes opening. Imagined her demanding to know where Abzi was.
Not enough. Dig deeper. Find more.
He thought of her swiftness in the dark when they were attacked in Jibaut.
The dance of her limbs as she flipped under and around her attackers, knocking them to their knees like it was a game.
He remembered the way her muscles rippled when she stretched, the way the sun lit her hair reddish black.
He thought of the light on her skin when she’d walked out of the Jaduna guesthouse, the fire in her expression when she’d told him to stay away from Abzi.
He remembered the warmth of her body, pressing into his when he’d kissed her.
Her lips, so soft and curious, her hair brushing against his neck, her eyelashes against his cheek.
The softness in her face a few days ago when she’d apologized to him.
When she’d said, I’m angry all the time.
Sometimes I don’t know how to keep it in.
This was as she should be. Healed. Healthy. Like this, he told his magic. Whole. Alive.
He felt as if a hole had opened in his body and every drop of life now drained out of him. It was worse than with Aiz, worse than windsmithing in a storm, worse, even, than bringing Abzi back.
Karinna’s skin stitched together, and he could feel her body healing. But that spark within her burned so low. He imagined himself holding and breathing life into it. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
He had to bring her back. This had happened because of him, because he couldn’t do what she needed, which was keep the Sail aloft. Her fear had been to fall—he’d learned that the first time they’d taken flight.
Cero was the one who brought death upon her. He closed his eyes.
Damn you, Karinna, he snarled at that flame within her.
Come back so you can yell at me for crashing the Sail and offend absolutely everyone we meet.
Come back so you can cuddle with Abzi when no one is looking and steal the best parts of my meal.
Come back so you can reject me and I can be heartbroken and you can love someone else who I’ll hate.
Her whole body burned suddenly hot and that flame within her burst into life.
He nearly dropped her, he was so startled, but held on, marveling at the strength of her spirit.
He saw her in that moment. Saw a girl who was scared and lonely but courageous and loyal, too.
Clever and funny and deeply loving, though she struggled to show it.
He saw her, and he wondered why he’d never noticed any of this before.
When he opened his eyes, the sun was nearly setting. Hours had passed with him holding her here, the reef-broken tide surging gently around them. Her wound was nothing but a livid pink scar, and he was so fixated on trying to figure out if he’d missed anything that he didn’t notice her wake up.
“Cero.” Her voice was soft, just a whisper.