Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Light
Nassir was slow to move, but his clicking let me know I was following in the right direction at least.
We went down what might have been a shallow incline, and then we made a wide turn of some sort.
“Hold out your right hand and you can touch the wall there; we’ll follow it to the water,” Nassir said.
I nodded, realized that he couldn’t see me, then answered, “Okay.”
The rock wall was rough and bumpy. The texture had a lot of sharp points to it, and I had to be careful to touch it only lightly as we went along for fear of slicing a finger open.
I heard the water before we came to it. A slight trickle, the quietest of brooks bubbling somewhere ahead.
“I hear it!” I said excitedly.
“Do you see any light?” he asked.
I blinked. I did! It was barely a faded gray, hardly distinguishable from the dark around me, but assuming it wasn’t my imagination, I could see just a touch of light coming from somewhere.
“I think so, barely,” I answered.
“Ah, so I bet it’s a window after all,” Nassir hummed to himself.
We went further ahead, and I could smell the difference in the air. The gray even turned a shade lighter, and my heart sped up as we got closer and closer.
“I think it’s melting snow from the outside. It’s quite cold, and it only drips sometimes. I think that is when the sun is out,” Nassir explained.
“That makes sense, I don’t know where else water might come from and land in a cave like this.
” I nearly slipped on some loose gravel underfoot, but I caught myself and moved forward more carefully this time.
“Nassir, do you have any kind of magic? I mean, earlier when I was meditating, I heard you in my head.”
“I’d say you’re the one who was in my head. I was minding my own business when you pushed up to me. You are the purple bird, yes?”
“Purple bird? I don’t know, maybe? Are you the yellow fog?” I asked back, confused.
“Probably. I haven’t meditated in quite some time. I doubt I look like much of anything anymore. We’ll take a look at why you’re leaking all over me in a minute, first let’s get some water and I’ll show you how to find lunch.”
“Leaking?” I blinked in surprise. “I didn’t think I was leaking anything. I hope you mean magic.”
“Here we go, lean down here and have a taste.” Nassir made a splashing sound, and I followed it eagerly.
Water.
I drank. I scooped it in my hands and couldn’t bring it to my mouth fast enough. I drank until my belly hurt and threatened to spill it all back out, and then I drank a little more.
“Slow down, you’ll be sick,” Nassir said.
“I can’t help it.” I sighed, leaning back away from the water. “It’s been days.”
“Hmm, well, how about one of these? I bet you’re hungry too.”
He put something in my palm. I was afraid of what it might be: it was cool and had a slightly squishy texture with an unappetizingly moist surface.
“Uh, Nassir?”
“It’s only a mushroom.” He laughed. “Perfectly safe to eat, I assure you.”
Relieved, I popped it into my mouth. Now that I knew what it was, the texture wasn’t nearly as unappealing. It had a bland taste, but it would fill me up, and I was grateful for it.
“Along with the mushrooms that grow here, I sometimes find cave lichens and the occasional insect. Sometimes a rat is able to make it this far, but that is a rare treat.” Nassir splashed a bit, presumably getting some water for himself, and I settled against a part of the wall.
“Thank you for bringing me here. I don’t know how long I would have lasted if I kept sitting by the door.” I pulled my knees up under my chin and wrapped my arms around my legs. “I don’t think my friends can get to me, even if they knew where I was. I’m not sure what to do now.”
“Not much to do,” Nassir said. “Can’t get out, can’t call for help. Looks like you’re stuck here, same as me.”
I played with a part of the rough-textured wall as I leaned my head back.
“Until they drag me back out again, anyway.” I sighed. “I wish I had my fire.”
“Fire?” Nassir perked up. I thought. At least, he sounded more interested than he had since I’d met him.
“Yeah, I have fire magic, but I can’t get it to work.”
“Fire,” he said in wonder. “Wren, go back to the place in your mind where you found me. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can. I’m a little rusty, but I’ll try my best.”
“What? Why?” I asked.
“I can help you. Stars, what I wouldn’t do for the feel of true warmth again after all this time. I’ll help you, and you can warm us both up. Maybe we can roast a few of these mushrooms. I wonder if they would taste any better that way.”
“You think you can help me?” I let myself get a little excited.
“Only if you meet me in your mind. I don’t know how much training you’ve had, so I need in there to assess what we’re working with.”
“Right, okay.” I sat up, taking the familiar position and closing my eyes.
I took in a deep breath and began.
One . . . two . . . three . . .
I pictured the little cabin in my mind.
One . . . two . . . three . . .
I found myself inside it as everything came into view.
It was just as I had left it. I stood in the center of the room, but as soon as I felt my breathing could stay steady and I could move around, I went out the door. Outside was the shapeless yellow mass that I now knew to be Nassir.
“Hello?” I called, and I found I could speak this time. It had come from my real mouth, but I could still stay in here if I concentrated.
“There you are. I see the problem. You need to shut your door. No wonder you’re fraying all over,” Nassir said.
“My door?” I turned my head to see the cabin still open. “I didn’t think it mattered.”
“Everything here matters. You can’t leave your mind wide open: people you don’t want inside can come in, and your essence can leak out.”
“Oh,” I said, turning back to close the door. “I didn’t know.”
“So, a cabin, eh?” Nassir’s foggy shape floated closer. “Simple. I like it. Some of the young ones have the most eccentric tastes.”
“You can see it?” I asked.
“Well, I can. But I’m old. I suppose if I’m going to do this again, I should start meditating.” The form sighed. “So much for my small attempt at sabotage.”
“Sabotage? Who could you sabotage by not meditating?” I asked. “I thought it was dangerous to not meditate.”
“Hmm, it’s irresponsible, but I’d happily give up whatever magical strength I have left if it meant sabotaging him. Come, sit down, and I’ll see what you’re doing with that fire,” Nassir said.
“But who are you trying to hurt?” I asked again.
“I doubt it would be good if I told you, so I won’t. Now, do you want to do this or not?” Nassir was getting impatient.
“Fine, fine, I’m sitting.” I sat on the grass and focused on my breathing, and I felt Nassir settle in beside me.
“Good, you’ve got that down. Now, show me how you pull out your fire.”
After a little focus, I felt the gentle weight and warmth of flame form in my hands.
“I got it!” I grinned.
“Ah, what a mess. All right, firstly, you’re too calm. I’m surprised you managed to bring up anything at all. Fire is hot. It’s passion and anger and rage and excitement. That’s what you should use to bring it out.”
“My emotions.” I smacked my forehead, extinguishing the little fire. “Of course! Cosimo told me something like that once when Thain took me to the library.”
Nassir sucked in a breath. “Thain? He lives?”
“Yes, you know him?” I blinked. I knew Thain was old, but I hadn’t considered that another ancient being might know him from hundreds of years ago.
“Sort of. I know of him. He was a promising young warrior in the War of the Wyldes. Fierce, to say the least. I paid little attention to the gossip from outside of the Winter Court once things were settled, and never heard what became of him. I suppose it’s nice to hear he has survived.”
“Oh,” was all I could manage to say.
“Ah, but nostalgia aside, try again with the fire. This time, bring it forward with passion. Energy,” Nassir said.
Energy. I could do that. I thought. Most of my life had been a calm mask, no wonder my magic wasn’t coming easily to me. Now it was time to try something new.
My nose twitched as I focused. My heartbeat quickened and my brows knit together in concentration. Emotions that might evoke the spirit of fire . . . I focused.
The first time I saw the Wyldes.
The exhilaration of felling my first tree.
Chasing rabbits down the hills.
Schula finding me struggling with Puko in the bath, revealing my seal and scaring me half to death.
“Good, much better,” Nassir said.
My palm was hot, but it didn’t burn me, and somehow, I knew it wasn’t going to no matter how hot it got. The fire was bright, and tall, and . . . purple.
“Why isn’t it red?” I asked.
“That is a good question,” Nassir answered.
“You mean you don’t know? What’s wrong with it?” I asked.
“Presumably nothing. Although I’ll admit I haven’t seen anything like this before. Oh.”
“Oh?” I was beginning to panic. “What does that mean?”
“Can I see your ears?” Nassir asked. “Not here, your real ears.”
Panic and the bitter hint of sorrow filled my throat. “Okay.”
The shapeless yellow fog looked at me curiously and then disappeared. My eyes opened to the dark cavern around us. I blinked several times before fully remembering I couldn’t see. Then I looked roughly where it felt like Nassir might be sitting.
“Can I touch your ears?” Nassir asked. “It’s the only way I can really see them.”
“Yes,” I said, pulling my hair out of the way. “Go ahead.”
Nassir’s fingers were cold, but they were also very gentle as he ran the calloused tips along the shape of my ears.
I didn’t know why I was so embarrassed by the act, other than the fact I hadn’t gotten to see them yet myself since they’d grown, and the sensation of them even being there was truly bizarre.
“Well, this is an interesting surprise,” Nassir said. “Wren, I think we need to start from the beginning, because I’m truly not sure how you came to exist. Please, tell me your story, I want to know it all.”
“My . . . my whole life until now?” I asked. “There isn’t a lot to tell. What’s wrong with my ears?”
“I was there when they were exiled . . .” Nassir murmured. “I’ll collect us some food. Why don’t you start us a fire, now that you have the hang of it, and I’ll explain everything after you tell me your tale.”
“Okay,” I agreed and tried to focus on my hands. Nassir shuffling around nearby was a distraction, and so were my mixed emotions, but I finally focused on the right energy, and a small flame came to life in my palm.
I was elated to see it was red. A normal, flickering, everyday red fire.
“I did it!” I called. Nassir’s shape was coming into view. I finally got a look at my only companion in the darkness.
“Ah, I’m done too. Hold on.” Nassir came close, and I studied him.
His skin was pale but at one time might have been the same color as mine.
His hands were scarred and calloused, and full of mushrooms and a greenish plant I didn’t know.
His hair was long, white, and unkempt down his back, and a beard fell from his chin to his chest in a similar fashion.
It was his eyes that made me gasp, though.
They were as white and blind as Puko’s left eye.
I knew DuVarick must have done it. This must be the extra measures he’d taken to ensure Nassir couldn’t create more art.
My shoulders shook with anger for a moment, but the flames flickered, and I had to concentrate to keep them up.
“Nassir, your eyes.”
“Don’t worry for me, it happened long ago, and I can get by perfectly fine without them. Being blind has not stopped me.”
His words didn’t make sense until he leaned down and gestured above us. I looked up and finally realized why the cave walls had such an unusual texture.
Nassir had done a lot more than a few marvelous carvings for the Winter Lands—he had carved the grand staircase, I was sure of it.
Every inch of cavern wall around us, as far up as I could touch, was sculpted in beautiful scenery.
Fae, creatures of the Wyldes, places I had never been to, plants I had never seen.
Not one tiny portion of the wall was left uncarved.
“Nassir, you did it. The stairs.” My voice shook as I stood, scattering flame along more and more of the wall.
This place was huge, and he had carved all of it.
Even now, with light to follow, it would probably take me an hour to walk back to the door, and he had carved it all.
Blind, in the dark, forgotten and hungry and cold.
Nassir had done it, not knowing if anyone would ever see it.
“Aye, it was me,” he said simply.
“Why? Why would DuVarick cast you away? Just for your art? Just to never have you create like that again?” My voice wavered.
“I’ll tell you what,” Nassir offered, “if you give me your story, I’ll give you mine.”
“Deal.” I nodded slowly, wiping my eyes free of any more tears.
“Good. If you can start from the beginning, I’ll try not to stop you with too many questions. When you’re done, I might just be able to tell you why DuVarick would put you in here.”
“All right,” I agreed. “From the beginning.”
I took a deep breath and told him.