Chapter 122
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Two
Folami
At the behest of an exhausted Faylinn and Rohak, Ilyas, Lex, and I reluctantly left behind the bloodied and pockmarked hills of Deucena in favor of a trek northward to Alvor in search of the missing member of our quad.
And my daughter.
Despite the anticipation that hung heavy between us during our silent return, I was under no illusion that the people that we’d find in Alvor were the same as those we left behind.
War changed everyone—some in ways that were more obvious than others.
All I wanted was to clutch my little girl to me once more; to feel her soft breath against my neck as her ear pressed against my heart to lull her into a soft and peaceful sleep.
To feel her little arms as they stretched around my back and stroked my skin in comfort; to stick my nose into her small, coarse braids and inhale the scent of lavender and oat—the smell of home.
Was the last time I held her as my child already passed? Did her childhood end without me knowing?
The thought had me pressing my hand hard against my sternum to relieve the ache there. Lex caught the motion and quietly pulled my hand into his, squeezing hard in an attempt to ground me.
I could feel my thoughts spiraling, my heartbeat racing and vision tunneling, yet the simple gesture of his hand in mine, rough skin against rough skin, kept me on the brink of panic.
I shot him a grateful smile, though it was over quickly as that ache returned once more.
I felt Ilyas move to my right, his hulking form blocking the sun from my eyes, before he reached gently for the hand pressed against my chest.
Ilyas’ palm was so large that it engulfed mine completely, the warmth of his skin chasing away the cold that built in my blood and set my bones to shaking.
As if the fear of the unknown surrounding my daughter wasn’t enough for the three of us, there was still the undercurrent of uncertainty regarding Peytor and his fate.
Was he in Alvor somewhere looking for us?
Was he adrift in the ocean somewhere, hanging onto rigging and refuse, waiting for us to rescue him?
I refused to think of the possibility that his body was cold and bloated, resting against the sand and rocks beneath the peaceful waves as crabs and fish slowly devoured his corpse.
A shudder worked its way through me once more, which I felt reflected in Ilyas and Lex. They both looked haggard and older than their years; purple circles surrounded eyes fraught with swirling darkness, deep lines set in their brows as their foreheads were pulled into permanent scowls.
I don’t remember the last time either of them had smiled or laughed.
I hummed softly, thinking the same of myself.
“What was that noise for?” Ilyas asked, his voice a rumble of stone down a hill in the quiet morning.
“I don’t remember the last time I smiled. Or laughed,” I said, surprising even myself with my honesty.
Ilyas squeezed my hand in understanding as Lex bit his lip.
“Not much to smile or laugh about lately, was there?” Ilyas said.
I hummed again but felt Lex’s mood sour even further.
“It’s my fault,” he mumbled, chin hanging to his chest as his boots suddenly dragged through the sandy road.
“What?” Ilyas and I questioned together.
“I’m your Mage, the center of the Bond, and I . . . I haven’t been thinking of your emotions or what you need to feel . . . secure.” His voice was long and forlorn, the realization that he actually believed his words dawning on me.
I shook my head, braids tinkling with the movement, at the same time Ilyas grunted a sharp, “No.”
Lex sighed, pawing his free hand through his unruly hair, sweeping it back from his forehead even as the breeze picked up and brushed it forward once more.
I felt a glowing tickle in my belly at the ire in his eyes and the tightness around his lips as he fought a losing battle against the wind.
That little glow blossomed and took root, filling my chest with warmth and causing my lips to twitch even as Lex’s glower darkened, muttering curses at the wind as he walked.
“Can’t Torin control this damn breeze?” he growled.
“Worried about your hair, Mage?” Ilyas asked, the same mirth I found growing in my chest reflected in his sparkling ocean eyes. How beautiful they were when they glinted in such a way. A broad, slow smile spread across his brown skin as he saw me lose my own battle with my glee.
A low rumbling chuckle built in Ilyas’ chest before working its way out of his throat and exploding from his plush lips, his head thrown back in laughter as his whole body shook.
My own laughs joined shortly after, the two of us creating our own melody together; it was beautifully morose, the kind of lightness that can only come after the extreme dark. A relief of sorts that the sun did actually rise again to chase the shadows away.
Soon, Lex added his sound to our melody, a brilliant weaving of tones and experiences. It was a stunning harmony, but not yet complete.
Eventually our mirth died as we walked, but I felt lighter than I had in days—months, even.
I carried that golden feeling throughout the day as we continued our trek northward, during lunch at the top of a hill that overlooked the southern part of Deucena, and finally as we reached the outskirts of Alvor, finding reasons to laugh in the lightness that shone above even as the wind grew colder and bit through our thin tunics and pants.
The relief that built was palpable, and I nearly wept from the exhaustion of holding so many emotions for so long.
Our newfound lightness dimmed only slightly as we crested the final hill, stopping at its peak to view the wreckage of Alvor below.
Ilyas and Lex sucked in twin breaths, but I was quick to assuage their fears.
“Everyone was safe, no one was injured. Talamh had the wherewithal to hide those that refused to flee in the caves; he and I, along with the small contingent of forces left here, followed soon after once we . . . realized what had happened at sea.” The last part was hard to say, my mind straying back toward those shadows that held the answer to Peytor’s disappearance.
“So this is just a temper tantrum from a goddess, then?” Ilyas asked, chasing some of those sneaking tendrils back into the darkness.
My lips quirked into a smile at his assessment. I felt Lex’s eyes on the side of my face, and I turned to regard him with a cocked eyebrow. “What?”
His thumb came up to tentatively paw at the corner of my mouth, his own smirk plastered on his face.
“Nothing. It’s just . . . refreshing to see you like this.
I thought we’d lost you for a while.” His voice was soft and sad, his own shadows clogging his vision for a moment as my smile fell slightly.
A pang shot through me at the pain I’d caused him and Ilyas during my months of self-imposed silence and grief.
“She was never lost, only hiding. She needed to feel safe and seen before emerging once more.” A voice I knew intimately, perhaps even better than my own, floated from somewhere below, and I gasped as a head of dark, tightly woven braids crested the top of the hill.
A clicking noise followed her ascent, and my eyes rounded when I saw what was woven into her hair.
Bones.
“Itanya,” I whispered, not daring to believe that this wasn’t a mirage. My fingers shook, my breath came in pants, as I reached my hands out toward my daughter.
She kept her head down, chin pressed against the crudely made fur-lined leathers that she sported, a sharp contrast to the garments from the far south we usually wore together.
Ilyas and Lex took a step backward, creating space for Itanya and me to reunite.
If my daughter weren’t standing in front of me right now, I’d throw myself at each of them in gratitude.
Comfort and care pulsated from where they stood hand in hand, their gazes sympathetic and relieved all at once.
“Itanya?” I whispered again, tentatively stepping closer to my daughter.
“Hello, Mother,” she said in a voice that was hers but also . . . wasn’t. I couldn’t quite figure out what was different about it until she raised her face, a milky-white, sightless stare meeting my own.
I gasped, heart caught in my throat as my stomach plummeted to my feet.
“What . . . what—” I couldn’t find the words to simultaneously express my relief at her arrival yet horror over the state of her body.
It was clear she’d gone blind, yet I saw runes engraved on her eyeballs.
My stomach churned at the agony she must have experienced to receive those before my eyes flitted to the rest of her, carefully cataloging the thousands of microscopic runes etched into her skin along her hairline, down her jaw, and over her cheeks.
A quick glance showed the same on her exposed fingers and hands—though these were done in some sort of swirling pattern—and I wondered if every inch of her skin now held these runes.
“Itanya,” I said, my voice breaking on a sob. Her own expression collapsed as I fell to my knees, weeping into my hands.
I felt Lex and Ilyas move, their warm bodies a comforting presence at my back.
I broke, then, blaming myself for my daughter’s suffering. The shadows returned, blocking out every inch of sun that I’d pulled forth, forcing me back into that pitch-black pit I’d only just crawled from.
“Mom, it’s okay,” Itanya spoke again, her breath hot on my face as she threw herself at me. I fell backward, head and back hitting Ilyas’s body with a soft oomph, but I didn’t care. Itanya scrambled on top of me, pressing her ear against my heartbeat.
My sobbing only intensified, her childish action so at odds with the enigma she’d become.
“I’m okay, Mama. It’s okay. It was all supposed to happen this way, I see it now.” She whispered continued platitudes against my chest as my tears soaked her braids.
“I-I s-should h-have protected y-you,” I gasped, snot running from my nose. I vaguely registered a large hand stroking my forehead while another traced soft patterns into the skin of my arm. Even Itanya’s hands patted my back in comfort.
“No, you did everything you could—everything you were supposed to. We are all slaves to Fate,” she said sagely, without a hint of anger or lingering animosity.
“I was always supposed to become the Bone Weaver—it was written in the stars before I was even born. You were always supposed to leave, then find me again. There is nothing to forgive. I love you, mama,” she said, turning to press a light kiss over my heart.
My arms cinched tighter around her waist as my grief continued to pour forth. Eventually, Ilyas and Lex lay down next to us, covering our bodies with their own and surrounding us with comfort.
We lay like that, the four of us, for what felt like hours, and I took small comfort in holding my child once more while two of the men I loved lay beside me in quiet support.
My mind flitted to Peytor once more, his absence a gaping hole in our family dynamic.
“The ocean gives just as the ocean takes, mama. Be patient,” Itanya said cryptically, so quietly I almost didn’t hear.