Chapter 44
Kyor and I walk in silence through the city.
Every other day before now, Isthyr has felt as though it had an unrelenting lightness, even when clouds covered the sky.
Despite the war with Morathka and the incessant uncertainty surrounding our futures, it somehow felt like a place where I could breathe.
But today … today the buildings feel close, oppressive, and that scentless, pure air presses in on me. More than once, Kyor slows his pace and turns to me, as if he’s about to speak, only to change his mind.
I appreciate it. I don’t have the words right now. I don’t have any words right now.
As the palace comes into view, he steers me towards it, but I pause.
‘I should check the library first,’ I tell him.
‘The library? You really think Caz will have already retreated there?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Because as long as she’s got a book in her hand, it stops her from being alone with her thoughts, and right now, that’s the last place she wants to be.’
He brushes his thumb gently across my cheekbone. I don’t know if the tears are still flowing or if they’ll ever stop. I lean into the pressure, my eyes closing involuntarily for a moment.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’ he asks. ‘Or give you both some privacy? Whatever you need.’
I contemplate the question. He’s walked halfway across the city to bring me here, but now I realise this isn’t the place I want him to be at all.
‘Do you think you could go back to the temple?’ I feel a flicker of guilt for asking, but it’s unnecessary.
I already know what his answer will be and that he would have probably gone back there without me asking.
‘Stay with Ruben and keep an eye on Benny for me? I know Loch’s there and he said he’d look after him, but—’
‘Of course,’ he says simply. ‘Of course I’ll go back.’
When his eyes lock on mine, it’s impossible to tell whether the pain I see is his or my own reflected. Then again, maybe that’s just what love is. Symbiotic pain. It only takes one of you to bleed for both of you to be in agony.
Kyor squeezes my hand, and I know he’s trying to convey all the unspoken words we want to share. But there are so many. So many that we could stay standing like this until our hair is grey and our bones grow weak, and still there would be more we have to share.
Finally, he releases me with a gentle kiss, and I turn and walk into the library.
The whispers that follow me into the building remind me of the ones from when we first walked through the city. I would give anything for those now. Anything to hear that uncertainty, that wariness, that judgement in their voices instead of their pity. I hate it.
I walk in and freeze. Brida is sitting in the seat the chaperones used back when we all had to have them. It’s been empty since the day that Magnus deemed us free to walk the city alone. Unexpected anger rolls through me.
‘Magnus asked you to watch over us again?’ I snap.
Brida jumps to her feet, already shaking her head. ‘No, I just—’
‘You just what? Wanted to see us in our pain? Wanted to revel in our grief?’
Her brow pinches. ‘No, I wanted to make sure your friend wasn’t alone.
I heard her send the Sanning away, and I…
’ She swallows. ‘I lost someone at the front lines a few moons ago. A good friend. I just wanted to be here, that’s all.
Sometimes you think you want to be alone, but you don’t.
Not truly. Or it’s not what you need in any case. So I just wanted someone to be here.’
Guilt riddles me.
‘I’m sorry,’ I reply, though the words feel shallow. I go to move, only to stop and turn back. ‘And I am sorry for your loss. Really, I am. This was Stefan, did you hear? Hear what he did?’
Brida swallows and looks sick. She gives a miserable nod. ‘He isn’t the man I thought he was.’
I sigh. ‘I always thought he was an arsehole.’ I twist away from the Issen and head upstairs.
Caz is here at her normal table, books spread out in front of her. I would think her lost in the world of words, but her eyes are staring, unmoving, at the pages.
I lower my voice to a whisper. ‘Hey.’
She lifts her head, confusion wrinkling her brow before immediately being replaced with a sorrowful smile. ‘Rose. I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought I should do some quick research.’
‘Research?’ My heart throbs. We just lost someone we loved. Research can wait. Every-fucking-thing can wait right now.
‘The Issen parting rites. It sounds beautiful, and it probably makes more sense to do it that way than anything else, you know. I’m sure Benny would want to do it the Eastern Isles way, but it’s not like there’s a sea here.
Maybe we could use the river, but I’m not sure how the Issen would feel about that.
You know, a burning pyre polluting the riverweed they need to survive.
And let’s be honest, it’s not like there are a lot of trees we can burn around here—’
‘Caz. That can wait.’
‘Not really,’ she disagrees primly. ‘They try to return the body to the Gods within twenty-four hours of death. Or at least as quickly as possible. As Ruben is in the city, there’s really no point waiting if that’s what we’re going to do.
Of course, we’ll need to check with Benny.
He might have other ideas. He might want us to bury him.
Maybe even take him out through the pyrrhic?
’ She absently taps her lips, deep in thought.
‘It won’t be easy carrying him up to that ridge, but we’ll be able to find somewhere beautiful – I’m sure we will.
Or maybe there’s another route we can come out.
Maybe I should talk to one of the Issen.
Or I could just find a map, I suppose. Yes, I think I have a map around here somewhere. ’
With renewed focus, Caz begins scouring the table, rummaging through the stacks of books and papers before haphazardly tossing them aside.
‘You don’t have to do that now,’ I tell her, but she doesn’t so much as lift her head as she continues to discard one item after another. ‘Caz? Please, Caz, can you— Caz!’
Finally, she looks up at me, a crease between her eyebrows, as if I’m the one acting odd.
‘You don’t have to do that,’ I repeat. ‘Magnus has already offered to host the Issen rites. You don’t have to do anything. Not now. I know how difficult this is for you.’
‘It’s difficult for all of us,’ she replies sharply.
‘But you—’
‘This isn’t about me. This is about Benny,’ she snaps before sniffing lightly. ‘It’s not about me,’ she repeats more slowly. Her voice trembles and her eyes are glazing over. ‘It’s not about us.’
‘This is about you, Caz. It can be about you too.’
She just shakes her head, blinking rapidly, as if trying to stop the tears from falling.
‘It’s fine, really. It’s … it’s fine. I mean, it’s been nearly two moons since she … since, since—’ Her voice gives out, the pain of merely saying Llinos’s name too much to bear.
‘Exactly. Two moons.’ I stress the length of time.
‘Two moons is barely long enough to even draw breath. When I thought Florian died, we spent a decade grieving. My mother, my father … Grief does not diminish simply because another suffers alongside you. That’s not how it works.
What you’re feeling, the pain this is bringing up, I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. ’
‘I don’t want to feel it,’ she says, her eyes pleading. ‘I don’t want to, Rose. Not again.’
‘I know,’ I whisper, because nor do I. But it’s there all the same, throbbing behind my temples, clawing in my bones, demanding to be felt.
In the silence that forms, Caz swallows hard, her eyes lost somewhere in the heavens.
‘Yesterday, Thessa and I were laughing, really laughing. You know the type where your stomach cramps and your face aches and you have real tears rolling down your cheeks? And I realised when I went to bed that it was the first time I had laughed like that since Llin’s death.
I let myself feel complete joy and not be struck with that sense of guilt after.
Guilt that she’s not here, guilt that I’m moving on and she’ll never get that chance.
Guilt that I could possibly consider enjoying a life without her in it.
It’ll always be there in some way, I know that, but yesterday …
yesterday it felt as if I could breathe. And then this happens.’
Her voice cracks, and every part of me wants to reach out, pull her into me, and not let go. But that’s not Caz’s way. And so I sit here, listening helplessly.
‘I know it’s wrong,’ she continues, ‘and deep down I know it’s not true, but it feels like the Gods are punishing me for trying, for moving on.
Like they think I’ve forgotten about her, and I need to be reminded.
But I don’t. I’ll never forget her. She’s part of me.
I wouldn’t be who I am without Llin. I … I…’
As her words falter, I reach my hand out to place it over hers, but she snatches hers away, as if my touch will cause another wave of grief she can’t handle.
‘Caz…’ I draw in a breath, not sure where to start.
I don’t even know if I’ll be able to without crumbling entirely, yet I have to try.
‘Caz, I don’t know why the Gods are doing this to us.
I wish I did. And believe me, I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve thought about what I would do if I got the gifting again.
If I could go back to the day I stood in front of the Goddess of Life, what would I say?
What would I ask for? There are so many things I would ask for now.
So many less fucking selfish things that I could’ve been granted. ’
I sniff, using the heel of my hand to wipe away tears I didn’t even realise had fallen.
‘You’re not alone with your guilt, okay?
You’re not the only one who believes, rightly or wrongly, that they’re being punished.
Believe me. Please. But this…’ I gesture to the books and papers scattered on the tables.
‘Refusing to allow yourself to feel your pain? That’s not going to help you.
You are allowed to feel whatever emotions come to you, Caz.
We lost somebody today, and we’ve lost people before today too, and you are allowed to feel everything that goes with that. For however long you need to.’
She draws in shallow, trembling breaths as she bites down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. ‘Yeah. You understand,’ she whispers, voice thick with tears.
‘I do. I do.’
My determination to give her space is gone. Before she can drag in another shaking breath, I am on my feet, standing over her, pulling her head into my chest and feeling the quakes of her broken sobs against my ribs again and again.
Only when her shoulders finally still and her breathing finally evens out does she shift away from me, wiping her face, though it does little to hide the red blotches marking her skin.
‘I should talk to Thessa. I really snapped at her.’
A sad laugh rocks from within me. ‘I did the same. Nearly bit Kyor’s head off.’
‘You did?’ She looks surprised by this. Or maybe just relieved.
‘Yeah. But he understands why. And so will Thessa. We all know grief.’
‘Of course we do,’ Caz says quietly. ‘Just another thing to feel guilty about.’
‘No.’ I take her hands. ‘Not guilt. Please. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Not one damn thing.’ A lump blocks my throat.
Hurriedly, I wipe away the tears, swallowing down the cluster of words that refuse to form. I can’t let Caz shoulder guilt too. Not when it’s so utterly unjustified. Unlike mine.
‘You go and find Thessa. I’m going to get Fen to take me back to the temple.’
‘I should come. See Benny too,’ Caz starts, but I shake my head.
‘He will need comfort for a long time yet, and you can’t give it if you have nothing left of yourself.’
A sad half-smile touches her lips, only to fade instantly.
When we reach the bottom of the stairs, Brida has gone, but she clearly wasn’t the only chaperone who thought we might need watching over. Tove the librarian walks towards us.
‘I’m sorry for your loss, Princess, Caroline,’ she says quietly. ‘Truly. Ruben was a good man. He was well liked. We looked forward to his visits. And his cakes.’
I force a smile onto my lips. ‘He was a good man,’ I reply. ‘The best. Thank you.’
‘I … I have heard a rumour that Magnus is offering a hero’s funeral. If that is the case, I would happily lend my magic. We all would.’ She gestures behind her to where a cluster of librarians are gathered.
‘Thank you,’ I repeat. I have no idea what magic could be involved in such circumstances, but a smile lights Caz’s face. It’s faint, but genuine.
‘Thank you, Tove,’ she adds. ‘Thank you. We appreciate that.’
Another day. Another funeral to prepare for.
And I wonder if mine will be next.