Chapter Sixty-Four Finlyr
chapter sixty-four
finlyr
The slow death grip of Adarna suddenly loosens. I’m on my hands and knees, but my joints feel looser, warmth spreading across my skin. When I can look up, I see massive bits of stone falling from the sky and the echo of Adarna’s shriek.
I roll to avoid the falling debris, crawling away across bodies mangled by stone. Seaguardians and stewards emerge from the ruin of the Bastion. I scramble down the hill, frantic among the chaos. Umasa is a wreck. Families scream as they try to shift the rubble.
The streets are alight with confusion. There’s a feral energy to the town that sits uneasily with me. This is a pyre ready to catch. My instincts to run or hide have never been stronger.
Everyone else has had the same idea, and a head start on getting to the docks.
Folks have their possessions with them; others have nothing but the clothes on their back.
Children left crying and pissing in the streets.
Ruins of houses plundered for everything they’re worth.
It never ceases to amaze how thin the fabric of Paranish truly is. We’re all fucked, either way.
I move towards the dock, people parting when they feel my hand on their shoulder and see the bulky mass it’s attached to.
‘Where’s the ferry?’ I ask.
‘Gone. They’re all gone,’ an older woman reluctantly admits.
‘When are they coming back?’
A young man shrugs. ‘Who knows.’
‘There must be another way, other vessels,’ I insist.
The young man laughs bitterly. ‘No chance unless you got anything worth parting with.’
I bare my teeth and try to shake off the wallowing and wailing. It’s then I spot a familiar gait, peeling off from the crowd.
‘Isagani?’ I call.
They turn and by Paranish, I can’t believe it.
‘Holy Aistra,’ they shout, running through the crowd to meet me.
‘Are you all right?’ I ask, examining them. Isagani’s face and hair is covered in ash and dust, save two tear streaks down their cheeks.
‘I’m fine,’ they say, shaking me off.
‘Where are the others?’
Isagani turns to the sea, pointing to the ferry, just visible on the horizon.
‘What do you mean? What happened?’
Isagani begins to cry, burying their face in my chest. ‘She left me. Ris left me.’
I squeeze them harder, trying to process what they’re saying. Ris adores them as fiercely as I do. Why would she leave them? As I shield Isagani, I understand what kind of ugly desperation seeps out of us during tragedy.
‘I’ve got you, kid. I won’t let go, I promise.’
Insects swarming – that’s how it feels trying to push through Umasa.
The ferries have left port; everyone is restless and terrified.
I can’t blame them. The dock is useless to us, and we head back towards Umasa town square, ducking and weaving through the throng.
Paranish, they’re good at being a shadow. Thunder roars in the distance.
‘Storm’s coming,’ Isagani says, watching the sky darken.
I narrow my eyes and watch the overcast sky. Smoke and embers mix with clouds of stone and ash. ‘This feels strange. We should get inside.’
Isagani leads us down winding, dingy closes, and we crawl and scuttle down stairways and through alleys to reach Narra’s inn. We can’t think of anywhere else to go. It’s the closest thing that feels like home.
I bang on the door of the inn until my knuckles are bloody. Eventually a large brown eye appears at the peephole.
‘Narra? Oh, thank Aistra. Please, you have to help us.’
‘Look what the otter-cat dragged in.’ Her voice is wary, and the eye roves over us both. ‘Speaking of, where is Sinigang?’
‘I don’t know, I’m sorry, Narra. We all got separated,’ Isagani says.
‘Let us in, I beg you,’ I insist. ‘You can check we mean no harm.’
Eventually the door opens a crack, and I could cry. We squeeze through and it’s barred tight against the outside world.
‘What manner of chaos have you brought down on us?’ Narra asks, patting us down. Her fingers crackle with a spark, and my skin tingles as she searches. She grunts in reluctant assent. ‘You’re both clean of mischief. But grief lies heavy on your shoulders.’
‘Are the others here?’ I ask hopefully.
Ligaya and Morna appear in the hallway. Their faces are blanched, and they clutch each other as if the fate of the world depended on the touch. I try to disguise my disappointment that Ris, Hanan, and the others aren’t here.
‘A nip of palm wine and a stew is what’s needed.’ Ligaya smiles weakly.
It’s eerily quiet in here, the chaos of the town distant outside.
‘Where are the guests?’ I ask.
‘The few we had fled to the docks at the first sign of trouble,’ Narra says. ‘They could smell mischief in the air.’
‘I cast a protective circle around the inn,’ Ligaya says quietly. ‘It will hold for a time, and keep out anyone – or anything – unwanted, but our magic isn’t strong enough.’
‘What do you mean?’ Isagani asks nervously.
Ligaya looks to Morna. ‘We barely made it here from the shop. It’s chaos out there; it doesn’t feel safe.’
‘Safe?’ I repeat, incredulous. ‘If magic was good for something, we wouldn’t be in this mess.’
Ligaya cuts me a look. ‘We don’t have anything else to give.’
‘What happened to you two?’ Morna asks, biting her lip.
Isagani sits mute and hollow-eyed. There are some things that can’t be told, but I try my best to put our ordeal into words. I look at the dark circles under their eyes and their hair matted with sweat. Holy Aistra, what we’ve put our children through.
‘Then Paranish will be aligned now, right?’ Ligaya asks, once my tale is concluded. ‘Everything should return to balance now the royals are dead.’
‘I don’t know for sure they’re dead.’
Narra sighs. ‘Even if the royals are dead, that doesn’t mean something good will take their place,’ she says, chewing her lip in consternation. ‘And the land remembers our abuse. The world won’t return to harmony in an instant. It feels like a shift, an awakening of something.’
Morna gets up from her chair abruptly, looking uncomfortable. ‘We’re going to need more tea,’ she says.
Ligaya and Narra look furtively at each other.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask. Their disturbance is more personal, something unspoken. ‘What happened?’
Morna pauses at the doorway. ‘It’s my fault,’ she admits, turning. ‘I was an informant for the Bastion.’
I start up from my seat. ‘What the actual fuck?’
‘It’s all right,’ Ligaya insists, trying to coax me down. ‘She told us everything. And she’s agreed to a binding spell.’
‘Ris found me out and insisted I tell Ligaya and Narra.’
‘Which she did,’ Narra admitted. ‘It’s been a hard few months for us all.’
Isagani looks terrified. I stare at them and then back at Narra. ‘Are we . . . safe here? Can we even trust them?’
‘You have no threat from me, I swear,’ Morna says. ‘I didn’t fully understand what I was doing. It was just an exchange of information.’
‘What did they give you?’ I ask, swallowing hard.
‘It seems so trivial now. Books, maps, copies of documents.’
‘You’ve never seen the queen, have you?’ Isagani asks suddenly, their pupils blown.
Morna shakes her head.
‘I have,’ they say. ‘I’ve seen what she can do. Not just to the gifted, but to everyone.’
‘She means to consume the dead,’ I whisper.
Ligaya gasps and makes the sign of the circle around her.
‘You knew she was taking children from their families,’ Isagani shouts. ‘And you helped her. You pointed them out for her.’
Morna is sobbing, shoulders heaving, breaths coming in shallow gasps. Ligaya tries to comfort her.
‘Breathe, my love. Breathe with me.’
I go over to Isagani and try to hold them. They are angry, resisting me for a moment. ‘You’re right to be angry,’ I say, gently.
‘We’ve forgiven her,’ Narra says, finally. ‘You can choose to do so or not, in time. She can’t change the past, but she can make amends. I intend to make sure of that.’
Eventually Morna has no more tears, and the anger seeps out of Isagani.
We are all too exhausted to fight anymore.
I settle into the soft furnishings and turn to look at my kid.
Isagani’s fallen asleep sitting up. Tomorrow we will try to figure out what this means for all of us.
Perhaps for a time we can breathe, come up for air before we dive back into the murky waters of our future.