27. Chapter 27
We hit the surface of the pool below hard, almost as if it were frozen and not flowing. The water was rougher and colder than I thought possible, my skin pricking with the pain of the cold, my joints stiffening, near immovable.
I tried not to panic as flashes of the avalanche came back to me through the feeling of being pressed by millions of thorns over and over again, the cold of the water taking my breath much like the avalanche did.
I could feel Malik beside me, the both of us fighting against the water together, gasping for air as we crested the surface.
"Lyra," Malik gasped.
"I'm here!" I yelled back, reaching my hand out for him.
He grasped my hand, and finally, I took in our surroundings.
All around us were dark waves that moved so fast that the surrounding land whisked by quicker than I could take it in. There was no knowing where or how far the river had taken us and where we were now.
We began to swim, fighting against the waves as they jostled us down the river, my arms quickly growing tired and numb from the constant battle.
I knew I wouldn't last long at this rate, that exhaustion would take over before long, but we couldn't risk being swept up by the current.
Such a fate would no doubt be a death sentence.
"Keep going, Lyra," Malik yelled over the rush of the rapids. "We are close to land and can get out of this."
I fought my way closer to the bank of the river next him, reaching for a fallen tree trunk to grab onto when the skirt of my dress caught on something below the surface, a large swell of a current dragging me under.
I tumbled with the undertow, my strength continuing to wane as I fought against it, even faster now as I worked to tug my skirt free, but it was to no avail.
My entire body started to grow numb the longer I stayed under the surface, my lungs screaming for air. I tugged and I tugged, yet my skirt would not come free, tightly hooked on whatever had caught it.
And again and again the current thrashed around me, and I gasped under the surface, water filling my mouth before I could stop myself, my lungs desperate for oxygen.
I had mere moments left, or else I would drown here in this freezing river.
Knowing that there was no way for me to free my skirt, I ripped the bodice of my dress off, the cloth falling from my body, freeing me from the river bottom.
I crested the surface once more, my lungs wheezing for air, my body trembling.
I was alive.
For now.
But I knew I would not last much longer in those frigid waters, the cold already starting to settle in, my fingers numb, the sensation moving up my arm the longer I was submerged.
I pushed my hair from my eyes with stiff hands, and glancing around the rushing water, dread making a home in my stomach.
Malik was nowhere in sight, as there was nothing but white waters before me.
I had lost too much time under the surface, and now Malik and I had drifted hopelessly apart. He could be far down the river, or worse, stuck as I had been.
I hauled myself up on the tree stump I had landed on, and made my way to the riverbank, crawling on shaking limbs in the frozen mud and silt, my eyes scanning my surroundings with fervor.
I would not accept Malik being gone, I would not allow it.
We had come too far, fought too hard, for it all to be over this quickly.
I stood and stumbled along the bank, strands of my wet hair freezing solid in the cold, my skin numb and pebbled.
"Malik!" I screamed, but the sound of the raging river drowned out any hope of him hearing me. It was louder than I thought possible, the water rushing over the rocks and tree limbs that lined the river. I kept to my trek, desperate for some sign of Malik, some sign of hope.
I don't know how long I continued walking, my voice becoming hoarse for all my screaming, my heart only becoming more desperate to find him.
I did not want to have to go to Rida alone, was not sure if I even wanted to face the mainland men and revelers without him by my side.
I knew I could, that I had the strength within me to do so but I had been strong for so long, and this journey had taken every last drop of perseverance.
I walked for what felt like hours, stumbling and shivering as I clutched my arms around myself, soaked and only clothed in my undergarments.
And finally, just when I felt most like giving up, about to accept the reality that Malik was gone and I would have to continue this journey alone, I saw his figure, lying half on the riverbank, half in the freezing cold water.
I ran to him on trembling legs, collapsing at his side.
"Malik," I said, grabbing his face in my hands. "Malik, can you hear me?"
His face was nearly void of color and cold, his eyebrows frosted over, lips chapped. My hands trembled as I took him in, fearful and full of despair. He could not die now, not after we had survived so much and made it so far.
"Malik, please," I begged, leaning my ear to chest, thankful to hear the soft pounding of his heart. He was alive, just barely coming in and out of consciousness, his breaths quickening as he heard my voice.
"Lyra," he gasped.
"I'm here, it's okay," I said to him, my hands shaking.
I examined the rest of him, my eyes landing on the blood that seeped through his shirt. It had spread far, coating his side and running down his torso, not enough to cover the ground, but enough to cause me to panic.
"You're bleeding," I said, my voice trembling with the effort to fight off the cry that threatened to bubble up inside of me.
Malik groaned, his eyes opening to meet mine and widening as they landed on me. I was certain I looked near death—I certainly felt it.
"Come on," I said, tugging on his arm, my fingers numb from the cold. "We have to get out of this water."
I pulled him up, supporting his body weight the best I could, the both of us trembling with exhaustion.
"We have to find somewhere warm. We'll die if we don't," I said, my body convulsing with shivers.
Even injured, Malik worked to remove his cloak, placing it around me to cover my bare legs and wet top as we stood, and together we made our way back into the forest. Malik came to as we stumbled through the forest, his grip tightening on me, pulling me close, the both of us clutching one another for warmth.
There was no telling how far the river had brought us, but wherever we were was home to temples carved into the mountainside, so expertly hidden that they almost blended in with the rock.
We made our way into the temple, the cave lit but dark, illuminated with sconces that were placed with care between the carvings and worn tapestries that lined the walls. It was a wide-open space, a cave turned into a sanctuary, the natural curve of the stone forcing a feeling of safety.
We wasted no time in shedding the remainder of our wet clothes, heavy cloth falling to the ground in wet thumps before Malik grabbed tapestries off the wall, wrapping us both in the dry cloth.
Malik made quick work of a fire from discarded branches left in the cave, the warmth of the flame rising up through the rocks to my feet, thawing the bone-deep ache caused by the cold.
I turned to Malik, my head finally clear enough to assess him.
"Let me see," I said softly, moving the tapestry from his side.
His wound was deep, traveling up his side, almost reaching his chest. He would bleed out if the flow of blood was not staunched, and with no supplies and no one around for miles upon miles, I knew I needed to step in, to help him in the way that only I could, no matter how much I feared it.
I took a deep breath, my hands trembling, forcing myself to focus, to remind myself that I was more than my past, and that despite mistakes I had made, I was older now, more knowledgeable and more capable.
Despite all I could do with Yllsora, healing was the last of the abilities I honed, for there was something terrifying about pumping life into someone or something. It could go wrong so easily.
But I could not let Malik suffer. I rested my hand near his chest, using his strength to steady myself, and focused my energy on his wound, pushing the smallest bit of power into his chest, the wound closing with my effort.
"You don't have to do that," Malik said, his hands coming up to mine.
"It's okay," I said. "I can do it, I promise. Let me help you. You need it."
Malik quieted at my reprimand, watching me as I used a bit of the tapestry to clean the wound, using the smallest of drops of my power to ensure that the wound was clean and that the bleeding had stopped.
Every part of my body became heavy with a new wave of exhaustion as I tended to him, the weight of the despair and fear I had felt for him while in the river bubbling up once more, threatening to spill from within me.
I held it all back, wanting to be strong for Malik the way he had been strong for me this entire journey, letting me lean on him without question. But I found myself struggling.
"Lyra," Malik said, seeing right through my facade. "I'm okay, Lyra."
I nodded, continuing to work, ripping another section of the tapestry off, wrapping his side in the cloth, pulling it taut.
It was then that I finally felt a moment of reprieve and gave my mind a moment to catch up with my body and everything that it had been through.
From our fathers fighting with one another in Sorrel, to fleeing Therian and evading the mainland men, to the avalanche, and to running from his men who decided that they did not trust the Mother Blessed and sided with the king for a chance at glory, to now—to almost losing Malik, to being so sure that I was going to be the one to watch him die, all because of me.
It was all too much and I could not stop the tears that welled up in my eyes as I looked at Malik, injured, but alive and well in front of me.
"Hey," Malik said softly once he noticed the tears welling up. "It's okay. We're okay. We made it."
I nodded, all while trying to convince myself that I was fine, that we had survived once more and that there was no reason to panic. Yet I could not stop what welled up inside.
"Hey," Malik said again, watching me grow more and more upset as the seconds went on, raising his hands towards me.
I flinched when first he reached for me, more afraid of the dam inside of me that might break if I were to look at him. I had to be strong for him, I told myself, had to take care of him in this one moment where he needed me and not the other way around.
"Lyra," he said, like he knew what was going on. He reached up to sweep a lock of hair out of my face. "I'm okay."
I nodded again, still unable to answer or look at him for fear of the emotions that would be set loose when I did. But Malik wasn't having any of that. He angled my face to look at him, our eyes finally meeting.
"You don't have to hide, Lyra," he said. "It's just me."
Just him, as if he weren't the only person in the world who had the ability to look into my soul, to see me for who I truly was, into the deepest parts of me that not even I wanted to explore.
And as I looked into his eyes, it was almost like he could see everything I was feeling, all of it reflected back to me. The fear, the exhaustion, the need for just one moment to not be strong.
"Come here," he said, opening his blanket to me.
I hesitated for only a fraction of a moment, knowing the moment I let myself fall into his arms, there was no coming back.
If I were to allow myself to be held in his arms so casually, that wall around my heart that I had been upholding this entire journey was sure to fall.
I had been trying so hard to hold my feelings back that now they had built up within me, towering so high that they threatened to topple over.
But despite all that, I still found myself surging into his arms, nestling close, right into that space where I knew I perfectly fit. I laid my head to his chest, the heat radiating off his bare skin a balm to my senses. I felt the strength and steadiness of him and let it ground me.
I still held on for a moment, my tears still working their way up in earnest, yet I would not let them out. That was, until he said:
"Let go, Lyra, it's just me."
And then, my sobs filled the cave as I clung to him.
I cried for everything: for having to endure the pain of him leaving, for the version of myself that he took with him, whether he knew it or not.
I cried for the version of myself I had to become to survive, as she had become someone I could slip into when I needed to be strong.
I cried as I could already feel that version of myself slipping away from me, leaving behind another kind of sadness, but also gratefulness, as I did not need her anymore.
Part of me would miss that version of myself, as she had carried me through my hardest days, helping me be strong when I wanted nothing more than to crumble.
Now, I could become someone new, someone who would carry me through whatever the future held, this time with more wisdom and strength.
I cried as I let go of all the past versions of myself, whether I was ready to or not.
I cried for the headstrong girl inside me, who feared being let down so much that she had put up walls higher than anyone could ever scale. I cried for the weight that had been put on both Malik's and I's shoulders, and the relief that neither of us had to hold it alone anymore.
Malik soothed me and it was a comfort to let him, to let someone see everything that I had held in for so long, to know that someone understood.
We fell asleep, just like that, in front of the fire, with my head tucked under his chin, his arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me together as the tears slowed.
It was the best night's sleep I had had in a while.