Chapter 25 River
River
For over a day, River could not teleport. But she’d felt the effect of the magical ropes finally wear off—or rather, she’d
felt the absence of effect, the same way a burn from the sun dulled into nothingness—and still, River had neglected her power,
opting to move through Vestriya on foot.
Walking gave her time for all that thinking she hadn’t yet done, without any sort of crisis occurring to distract her. She
wasn’t chasing Galwell, or fighting with guild members, or being kidnapped. She was making her way to Celine with patience
and intent, gathering together a sufficient apology while building out a plan for her new life.
Only when her chest began to ache with longing did she realize she was using walking as an excuse. She was afraid that Celine
might turn her away for taking so long. She was afraid Celine had only had her rescued out of standard kindness, not something
more.
She was afraid of what her own feelings actually meant.
When River could avoid it no longer—worried she might keel over from all the longing—she finally closed her eyes and imagined
Celine.
She ended up teleporting to a strange, run-down village called Arveto.
There was a makeshift sign hammered into a tree stating the village’s name, painted in an ominous red.
Or maybe the threatening energy had to do with all the deterioration.
Everywhere, spindly weeds with tiny specks of blackened berries sprouted in between broken pathways and up the walls of battered buildings.
More windows were boarded up with wood than fitted with panes of glass. All the trees were leafless and gray.
For once, River’s magic did not drop her directly in Celine’s path. Instead, Celine was several paces ahead of River, carrying
a basket packed with loaves of bread and chunks of fresh cheese. She passed them out to villagers as she walked by, offering
a kind smile and squeezing many hands.
All the practicing River had done in her head seemed insufficient when presented with the fullness of Celine, observing her
generosity of spirit. And the reality of her. Those lips she’d kissed only once. That body she’d barely held. There was so
much she wanted to know about Celine’s life, and so many things she hoped to be worthy of but didn’t know if she ever could
be again.
It was true that Celine had lied, but River no longer felt the pulsing heat of anger when she thought about it. She’d developed
an understanding in their time apart. She too had told lies to protect herself, on more than one occasion. And the truth was,
she missed Celine more than she cared about what she’d done.
In the distance, Celine held out a vial of dark liquid. “Do you recognize this?” she asked a wizened old woman seated in a
rocking chair outside what looked to be the village’s apothecary shop.
The old woman held the small green bottle up to the sunlight. “Of course I do. This is our cinderflower extract.”
Celine nodded, like she already knew that much. “When I last visited, it was only being used as a painkiller. Can you tell
me when it started being used as a poison?”
The old woman tensed. “Are you in trouble?” The concern with which she asked suggested a prior relationship between her and
Celine.
“No, no.” Celine pasted on the smile River had come to know as her false one. “Something happened to a friend of mine involving this. He was very nearly killed by it.”
Intrigued, River checked again that her location was secure, wanting to continue watching without disruption or notice. She
was tucked into the narrow alley between two buildings, and the passing villagers paid her no mind, far more interested in
securing some of Celine’s food or, perhaps more pressingly, her attention.
“It was discovered that in large doses, the cinderflower is deadly,” the old woman said, her face wrinkling in regret. “A
man came to our village with a bad headache. He took more than we recommended, and he fell dead within the hour. It was a
horrible accident, and we tried to stop production altogether once we figured it out.” The woman swirled the vial, watching
the dark liquid swish around the bottle. “But the royal guard showed up not long after, telling us they’d be buying out our
entire supply indefinitely. They didn’t say why, but one can make an educated guess.”
Celine pulled out her notebook and quill to scribble down this information.
“I’m sorry to hear what happened to your friend,” the old woman said. “I’m glad he survived it. It’s certainly not what our
village wants to do with the extract, but it’s the only way we can survive at all. We’re the only ones who can make it, since
it grows from our ruined soil. It’s all we have.”
Celine bit her lip, looking away for a moment before she said, “Thank you, Mariana.”
Mariana.
So they did know each other.
“Of course, dear.” Mariana rose slowly from her rocking chair to peek her head into the shop. “Loris, tell the children Celine
is here.”
A moment later, several children, all between the ages of three and six, rushed through the front door of the apothecary shop.
They were dressed in clothing that was more patches than original fabric.
Their faces brightened at the sight of Celine, and they hugged her, crying out her name in delight.
Once the greetings ended, Celine sat in the rocking chair beside Mariana’s and pulled a children’s book out of her basket.
As if expecting this, the children took spots at her feet, sitting with their legs crisscrossed as Celine began to read. She
gave a committed performance, putting on special voices and taking great care to make sure the children saw each illustration
before turning the page.
When she finished, the children cried out for more.
“That’s the only story I could fit into my basket,” Celine told them regretfully. “But I will leave it with Mariana so you
can revisit it as often as you’d like.”
“More! More!” cried the children.
River knew what she had to do.
With a running start, she hurdled down the empty road that led to the apothecary shop, propelling herself into a roundoff
back handspring. The ground wasn’t very forgiving, but River had enough adrenaline to power herself through the maneuvers
anyway. Out of her back handspring, she rebounded high, stretching as tall and straight as she could before rotating into
a magnificent laid-out back somersault, even going so far as to open her legs into a split while upside down for extra flourish.
When she landed, the children erupted in rapturous applause.
“You’re here,” Celine managed to say, her voice barely rising above the din.
“I am,” River said, looking long and deep into Celine’s eyes.
There were entire conversations in this exchange. Words that would fill hundreds of pieces of parchment, running countless
quills dry. At its simplest, this look was an apology. It was a question. It was an answer, too.
I am sorry. Will you take me back? You were all I thought about while kidnapped. You kept me alive.
“More, more!” the children cried, this time for River.
Knowing she and Celine could not yet reunite in full, River obliged the children, handspringing and cartwheeling and somersaulting
until her shins stung and her neck ached. The children, so desperate for joy and so clearly lacking in chances to receive
it, still wanted more. So River switched to doing for them what the acrobats of her family’s circus had once done for her—she
taught them how to tumble instead, and they put together their very own circus performance.
River could’ve spent the rest of daylight showing the children how to stand on their hands and work as a group to make their
own spectacular show. But Mariana, wise as she was, summoned the children back into the shop to wash up for dinner.
“Thank you,” Mariana said, squeezing Celine’s hands and then River’s.
Celine’s eyes were filled with tears as she told Mariana, “It’s the least I could do.” She handed over the remaining contents
of her basket. “For dinner.”
Mariana kissed her forehead, then entered the apothecary shop, leaving River and Celine alone.
“You know, I’d been planning to yell at you,” Celine said.
River laughed. Oh, it felt so good to do so, loosening up the tension and pain in her chest, freeing up space for all the
hope that wanted so desperately to bloom inside her. “What did you want to say?” she asked. “I’m quite sure I deserve to hear
it.”
“Oh, I had grand plans,” Celine told her. “I even wrote some things in my notebook. They were very harsh. But now that you’re
here, all I want to do is kiss you.”
River took a step forward, using her impish grin as one final peace offering.
“I’m pesky like that, aren’t I?” They were nose to nose.
If River had ever had a real place to call home, this was how she imagined it would feel.
Comfortable, secure. Enveloping. “I was in a similar situation. I’d been quite upset with you for lying to me.
But when I was held captive, none of that mattered very much anymore. ”
For a moment, they stilled, saying nothing, intertwining their fingers as they breathed in synchronicity.
“What is this place to you?” River finally asked.
“My magic,” Celine said quietly, as tears filled her eyes. “The first time my family visited Vestriya, I burned this village
to the ground.”
River worked to make sense of this, adding this new information to everything she already knew. It fit like a key into the
final locked barrier that stood between them. The voyage Celine took right before she met River. The lying about her gift.
The reaction to receiving the harpies’ amplification.
This was why.
“How did the fire happen?” River asked.
“It wasn’t on purpose,” Celine said softly, the tears beginning to fall. “My parents and I were in an argument. My emotions
were out of control. I got so angry. I couldn’t stop it from rising up in me. And then everything was burning. I never meant
for this—”