Chapter 58
Chapter fifty-eight
Valenna
The ground was littered with bodies, and Valenna was disoriented. Her heart in her throat, she began to weave along the battlefield, searching for Evander. Everyone looked the same, dozens of leather jackets with shearling collars. What if she missed him?
“VANDER!” she screamed. “VANDER!”
Her voice was swallowed by the cries of the wounded and dying. Her feet sped, her panic rising.
“VANDER!”
Body after body after body, and none of them his. Then, over the din and the tumult, Valenna heard the sunbird. And somehow, she knew that she needed to run toward that song.
The battle was settling, Ashkendor retreating into the forest. A tattered cheer rose from the exhausted Sennalaithic forces.
They wavered, uncertain what to do. Should they take the beach?
Should they retreat as well? Half the army splashed into the ocean and struck out toward the boats.
The others half-heartedly pursued the enemy to the trees or through the clouds toward Ashkendor.
Valenna reached the manor ruin and scrambled over the rubble.
“VANDER!” she screamed again. “VANDER!”
Her voice echoed in the mist. The fog flashed.
The sunbird wailed again, nearby, just to her left.
Frustrated, she swept her hands and summoned a breeze—not a zephyr, but a clean spring breeze.
It cleared away the smoke, and suddenly she was standing in the dull sunlight, her back to the smoldering manor ruin, her face to the blooming dragon willow.
Like a weeping bride, the white tree inclined lacy arms over a motionless body. Crimson blood pooled on the petal-carpeted ground.
A scream caught in Valenna’s throat.
She couldn’t understand—how had this happened? He’d promised to wear his enchanted shirt. He’d promised to return to her after the battle. He’d promised …
Valenna wanted to run to him, but her knees hardly supported her as she staggered over the uneven ground. With each step, she felt as though someone was driving a spike deep into her rib cage.
Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe it was someone else.
She reached the figure and fell to her knees beside it, turning the face toward her. Evander’s eyes were closed, his face grimy with blood and ash.
“Please, please no,” she choked, feeling for a thrum of life under his jaw. She was not surprised when her fingers met hollow stillness.
Valenna’s heart cracked like a bone.
She gathered Evander’s sickeningly limp body into her arms, pressed her face into his neck as his head rested on her arm, and wailed.
All her sacrifices, all her sins, and she could not save him.
The Dread Five crew approached. Samara covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders shaking, she turned her back to Valenna, then ordered the crew to do the same. Silently, they stood guard over their captain.
Valenna’s cry of anguish shook the willow, and petals tangled in her hair. The dead forest shuddered.
She didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t mean to do it.
But her tears fell like a spring shower.
The scorched dragon willows burst into bloom, char falling from their branches like a shed skin.
Trees thrust their arms from the sand, and grass spread in a green carpet, covering the bodies of the dead.
Flowers adorned puddles of blood; buttercups bloomed over corpses.
In minutes, what had been a barren wasteland transformed into a lush forest bordering a meadow of wildflowers.
With a rush of wings, Raska landed in front of Valenna and reached out her scabrous beak. Fighting back sobs, Valenna lifted her bloodied hand and touched it.
As if washed clean by a torrent of rain, the tarry black on Raska’s plumage melted away. Beneath it, her feathers were pure white, tipped with gold.
“Raska?” Valenna breathed, looking up through swollen eyes. “All this time?”
Raska lifted her resplendent head and sang a mournful song, an elegy.
The Dread Five crew whirled around, then dropped to their knees, their heads bowed.
The sunbird had spoken. Valenna’s magic bore witness. She was Tahlia’s heir, the bearer of spring. The Botania.
Valenna didn’t notice or care. She stared through tears at Evander’s face, stroking the hair from his brow and running her fingers over the gash in his cheek. She had recalled this wasteland to life; perhaps she could summon him as well.
But Valenna’s magic had no such power.
Raska—the sunbird—edged closer.
“Could you still take him to his mother?” she asked. “Even if you no longer need her magic?”
With a slight hesitation, Raska nodded.
“But I promised,” Valenna choked. “I promised him I wouldn’t.”
The bird seemed to understand.
Clutching his body, Valenna looked down at Evander again and realized it was the last time she would ever see him.
In a moment, she would have to hand his body to some stranger who would bind him in cloth and take him away to be buried in the cold, lonely ground; every piece of him, lost—a treasure dropped into the sea.
She would never again bask in his lovely smiles, or feel his gentle hands, or wake up beside him in the gray morning light.
She couldn’t bear it. She might as well climb into the ground with him, bury herself at his side. How could she live without him? What would be the point?
“WAIT!” she cried.
Her splendid wings spread and ready to fly away, Raska paused.
“Take him,” Valenna said. “Take him to his mother. If she can save him.”
Raska hesitated.
“I know.” Valenna bent over Evander’s body. “I shouldn’t … But I can’t bear it. Just take him. Please.” She touched her forehead to his and sobbed. “Forgive me. I’m so weak, and I don’t know how to let you go.”
With a sorrowful hum, Raska bent down and touched her brow to Valenna’s.
“Please,” Valenna whispered. “I haven’t the courage to let him go.”
Raska waited while Valenna kissed Evander’s forehead and ran her hand once more down his cheek.
She studied every detail of his face so she would remember him.
Then she eased him onto the ground again and sat back on her heels.
Raska took Evander’s body gently in her massive talons, flapped her wings, and bore him away.
Valenna watched through a blur of tears as Raska disappeared into the clouds. When she could no longer make out the bird’s form, she hugged her ribs and wept.