Chapter Sixty-Five Ris
chapter sixty-five
ris
The captain brings us into port at the Spring Isle, and the vessel is barely secured before passengers are scrambling over each other and scattering across the land. Where do they hope to go? There are inns and rooms, but not enough for this swell of people. Any roof will do, it seems.
I gather myself for the journey back to the farmstead.
‘Thank you.’ I meet the captain’s eye, and he gives me a stiff nod.
‘We’re heading back now. Hopefully we can find your friend.’
I swallow the bile at the back of my throat, remembering Isagani’s imploring eyes. ‘Thank Aistra for folk like you,’ I say, looking back across the water to the mainland.
Thunder booms in the distance and we watch forks of lightning illuminate the sky.
‘Is it a storm?’ I ask.
The captain stares at the distant sky and shakes his head, eyes glassy. ‘We can’t go back in this now.’
‘I’m sorry!’ I call back as I scramble up the hill, already slick with mud from travellers’ boots.
I’m running away again. I’m good at that.
The farm comes into view, the land sparse and empty.
The animals are in the shelter, and there is a small light on in the cottage.
I stumble across the muddy grass, openly weeping.
I lean against the rickety gate, which buckles under my weight, and I regain my balance.
I crash through the cottage door, and I’m met with a yell. Ryla bolts out of the bedroom, an axe in hand. They catch me as I stumble and collapse in their arms.
‘Ris! Holy Aistra, am I glad to see you,’ Ryla says, wide-eyed. ‘What in Paranish is happening out there?’
‘Where is Biba—’ I start and wince at the sharp pressure on my chest. I try for shallow breaths, but then the world shrinks to a pinprick of light, and I have to let go.
When I wake, Ryla sits on the end of my bed, proffering a bowl. ‘Here, eat this.’
I try to sit up and feel a sharp stab in my side.
‘Easy,’ they encourage, settling a hand on my shoulder. ‘I set your bones while you were out cold. Your ribs were broken.’
‘Hanan fixed them.’
‘Not entirely,’ Ryla disagrees. ‘Who’s Hanan?’
I shake my head. I can’t, not yet. ‘Is this medicine?’ I ask, my voice dusty from lack of use.
They smile, mirthful but not unkind. ‘Not quite. But it will make you feel better.’
I reluctantly take the steaming bowl from their hands. Small turquoise pearls float in a deep umami broth. They hand me a wooden spoon, and I take a tentative sip. The flavours dance on my tongue: an earthy base, nutty body, and tangy top notes. I scarf down the rest.
‘Where’s Biba? Where are the others?’ I ask, wiping my mouth.
‘Biba? Isn’t she with you?’
I start, getting up. ‘Salvacion isn’t here yet?’
‘What are you talking about? Why would that bitch be here?’
‘Don’t,’ is all I can manage before my head starts swimming.
‘Kopiro’s with Vullis at the tap,’ Ryla continues, filling the silence. ‘He’ll be so glad to see you. You gave me quite a fright,’ they add slowly, examining my face. ‘What’s happening at the mainland? I saw the commotion from the ferry.’
They pause, and I can tell they’re bursting with questions about my ordeal. We look out the window at the storm, coming down in earnest now.
‘It’s chaos out there,’ I say quietly.
‘It’s all right,’ Ryla says, and then I realise they aren’t talking to me. Fetch has appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, making whining noises. ‘Come here, boy.’
Fetch eventually goes over to Ryla and licks their hand. He sniffs me and then jumps up, wagging his tail in recognition.
‘Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again so soon,’ I say, petting him enthusiastically.
A stream of light pours into the cottage, and I almost don’t recognise Vullis in the doorway.
It feels like years since I’ve seen my friends.
A barrage of feet, and they’re elbowing each other at the doorway.
Vullis and Kopiro hold me, and Fetch ensures everything is covered in his slobber and moulting fur.
‘Careful of her ribs,’ Ryla insists.
‘What in Paranish happened to you?’ Vullis asks in wonder.
‘How long have you got?’ I smile weakly.
‘It’s wild out there. Nowhere we’d rather be,’ Kopiro insists, kissing my cheek.
No one wants to break the silence after I’ve recounted our misfortunes.
‘Do you think she’s dead?’ Vullis asks after a time.
Ryla grimaces. ‘I don’t know. Don’t you think we’d . . . feel it?’
If prayers were good for something, as my mother used to say.
‘Paranish will be thrown into calamity without a ruler,’ Vullis says, visible fear on his face.
‘Seaguardians will be crawling over the Spring Isle,’ Ryla adds. ‘Not to mention the desperate mainlanders.’
There is something to be afraid for, after all. We’ll have to be smart about this. We can’t go rushing out after the Seaguardians.
‘How long do you propose we hide here?’ I ask. ‘I saw the chaos in Umasa. No one knows what to do.’
‘Perhaps it’s an opportunity for change, at last,’ Kopiro suggests.
‘That’s a beautiful thought,’ Ryla says, folding their arms. ‘But what makes you think anything will change?’
A bash at the door, more a testing of the wood’s give than a knock. We all look at each other. It’s inevitable, like the tides. Fetch barks and growls at the intrusion. Ryla quiets him as best they can. I stand slowly, grabbing the metal fire poker as I open the door.
‘Is this the kind of greeting I get?’ Salvacion asks, barging into the cottage. She’s rain-slick, her hair plastered to her face and trailing mud. I pull her into an embrace, heedless of the muck and grime I’m getting on myself.
‘Mama!’ Biba yells, and I can barely see her under the grit and dirt. I plant kisses all over her until she laughs, begging me to stop.
‘I worried I wouldn’t see you again,’ I tell her, bringing them to the fire.
‘Salvacion?’ Ryla says, incredulous. They pick up the axe and brace, standing to their full height. ‘You’ve got some nerve after what you did to Ris.’
‘No, stop!’ I insist, and Kopiro gently takes the axe from Ryla’s grip. ‘She helped bring Biba here. She’s one of us now.’
‘Is that true?’ Vullis asks, rubbing his face.
Salvacion nods. ‘We got caught in a riptide and nearly lost the whole skiff. The weather is almost as wild as the folk out there. She’s right: I want no part of the Bastion. I couldn’t in good faith continue to stand by her side once I truly understood what she was doing.’
Ryla sighs and settles back down in a chair.
‘Well, don’t just stand there getting the floorboards wet.
Get yourself cleaned up.’ Salvacion nods and lets a smile flicker on her face, heading into the other room to peel off her sodden layers.
Biba is heedless to decorum, stripping off and mooning the fire.
‘You need a bath,’ I tell her, taking her by the hand to the bathroom for a scrub.