Chapter 44
I’m not sure what awakens me – bad dreams, I suspect, from the way my heart throbs.
Maybe worry about Kay. Or Benny. Something heavy, that’s for sure. And the sensation lingers there, only for a moment, before it fades again, stolen mostly by the cold.
I consider rolling over and trying to go back to sleep, but as I shift on my mat, I spot Caz sitting alone.
She’s on watch, so it’s hardly a surprise, but there’s something about the way she’s sitting with her shoulders bowed, her arms around her knees, staring into the dark as if she’s bracing for something terrible to come back out of it.
And worse still, there’s a look in her eyes that tells me she might just accept it if it did.
Seeing that look on her face … I instantly give up on sleep. I get up, take my blanket with me, and settle down beside her.
Sometimes you don’t need words – you just need to know someone gives a fuck.
The fire has burned down to embers, and the night is cold enough that every breath feels difficult, like the air is slicing our lungs.
There’s a pile of dry wood next to the pit.
Moving forward, I grab a couple of branches and one heftier log, place them on the embers, then stoke them with a slow breath until the flames catch.
Once the fire is roaring again, I settle back by her side, shifting my blanket so it’s also across her knees.
‘I keep thinking I hear her,’ Caz whispers eventually. Her voice is flat, careful. ‘Like if I turn fast enough, she’ll be there, telling me I’m being an idiot.’
I don’t need to ask who she’s speaking of.
‘Me too,’ I admit.
‘I know she’s gone,’ she says. ‘I know that. But when I think about … other things … it feels like a betrayal.’
‘Other things?’ The way she speaks, it’s as if there’s another person she’s been thinking about, but given our situation, I can’t imagine who that would possibly be.
The thought enters my mind, only to be replaced by the image of Caz’s smile when we returned to the Sannings.
Huh.
‘Thessa?’ I ask softly.
Her jaw clenches. ‘It’s too soon. Far too soon. I’d never do anything. But I’m letting Llin down just by talking to her. Looking at another woman like that. I’m betraying her with every breath I still have, while Llinos has none.’
I let her words sit in the darkness for a moment, so that when I speak, I pray she will listen.
This moment is important. ‘Caroline, I know you lost a lot of years when the pair of you were apart and that she died way too soon after you got her back, but do you think, for even one second, that Llinos would begrudge you happiness, however and whenever it comes to you?’
Her bottom lip trembles and her control snaps. Tears start to stream down her face, and she gives a sharp shake of her head.
But even though she knows it’s true, it doesn’t make it easier; I get that. Trying to reconcile the heart and mind can be like trying to get a dire wolf into a dog collar. Sometimes things just don’t go together, and if you try to force them, they’ll bite you.
I sit then and let the silence stretch, comforting and unjudging. Hopefully it’s enough for her to know that if she wants to talk, I’m here. And if not … well, I’m not going anywhere in that case either.
As the fire crackles and spits, I reach out and take her hand, lacing her fingers with mine, wondering if she might resist, but she doesn’t.
Caz has been through so fucking much. She deserves some happiness, even if she can’t see it right now.
I can’t even imagine how I’d feel if Kyor died. Just the thought sucker-punches me.
He may never forgive me, and we may be done, but to imagine a world without him in it – where he doesn’t fill every room with his ridiculous charisma and arrogance – takes me back to that nightmare all over again.
The one where I thought I’d lost him to the Rotting wound. And if he’d been taken from me before …
In Caz’s shoes, I don’t think I’d be standing, let alone gallivanting across Morathka to help a friend.
Caz’s happiness is all Llin would have wanted; I’m sure as Rottings walk the earth.
You’re allowed to live, I think, not wanting to disturb her thoughts with words she’s not yet ready to hear.
You’re allowed to feel more than one thing.
And liking Thessa is not a betrayal – it is living.
Llinos wouldn’t want you to punish yourself.
Llinos would want you to be happy. It’s all true, and I will her to feel my unspoken words, to somehow take them into her heart.
We remain there in silence, Caz fighting to reconcile her feelings and me hoping that my presence is enough for now.
As strange as it is, I find I’m grateful for that dream that woke me. For the weight that pressed down on me as I slept. Hopefully my presence has gone a little way towards easing Caz’s pain.
‘She wouldn’t want this,’ Caz murmurs, a shuddering breath rattling from her. ‘She wouldn’t want me punishing myself.’
‘No,’ I agree softly. ‘She wouldn’t.’
Caz wipes her face, embarrassed to have let go in front of me. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to—’
‘You don’t have to apologise for missing her. Not ever.’
‘Thank you.’ Sadness continues to glaze her eyes, but she tries to smile through it. ‘You’re good at this, you know. The whole comforting thing.’
‘Thanks.’ I offer a matching half-smile in response. If I do have an ability to comfort, it’s a skill that’s been learned and learned recently. Learned through loss after loss. Truthfully, it’s one skill I would happily part with if it meant my life had taken a different route.
She gives a small nod, then glances at me, frowning slightly. ‘That was strange,’ she says. ‘For a second there, it felt like …’ She trails off, shaking her head. ‘Never mind. I’m just tired.’
‘Sleep. I’ll take over now,’ I tell her, but the frown remains on her brow for a moment longer before she forces herself to smile.
‘Thank you, Rose. For everything.’ She stands up and walks over to the mat I vacated, taking her own blanket with her. I watch as she curls up to sleep, and I think that at least today I’ve been a good friend.
My eyes drift to Kyor, and his body is so rigid, it’s clear he’s not yet sleeping.
A good friend, I think, but a lousy true love.
Quarrels about navigation start almost as soon as we rise. We are back to riding through Afaven Forest, but Kyor and Thessa have been quietly arguing about whether we should head west to Rowell or east to Dorain. For now, we head north until we decide what makes the most sense.
With no decision made, Kyor rides ahead, alone on Elska, while Benny’s new mare, being the most skittish around the wolf, is at the very rear. The space between them is something we’re all grateful for, though it does little to erase the tension rippling through the group as we ride.
Ruben rides next to Benny, carrying Loch with him, and Thessa and Caz are in front of them, deep in conversation.
Stide rides next to me, but by the time we stop for lunch, she still hasn’t said a word, though she did give me a tight nod, which was something.
After lunch, she tries a little more conversation. ‘The wolf man is angry,’ she begins. ‘Well, more angry than before,’ she amends.
Wolf man. It’s a step up from dog boy. Does that mean she’s softening towards him? Towards us?
I grimace. ‘Yes, he is. He’s not happy with Benny and me.’ I don’t offer the reason why, and I’m grateful when she doesn’t press.
‘Things will get better,’ she offers with surprising compassion.
‘I hope so.’
We lapse back into silence, though this time I’m grateful for it.
Later, as we sit for dinner, I go to the satchels to look through the food that the tavern owner supplied. To my dismay, I realise there’s lots of fresh fruit. Delicious, yes, but soft fruit will turn quickly.
There is far less bread and dried food than we need, and I want to hit myself for not checking the supplies before we left Galreck.
‘Most of the wood is damp,’ Benny says as he tries to make himself useful, collecting kindling for the fire. ‘Must have rained here last night. I’m not sure it’ll even burn.’
‘I can dry it. Well, I can try,’ Ruben suggests.
‘You want a boost?’ I ask.
‘That’d be good.’ He nods. ‘You think you can do it again?’
‘Only one way to find out.’
As it happens, it’s remarkably easy to transfer some magic to Ruben, although drying the wood isn’t quite as straightforward as he hoped, and the first two branches instantly end up as ash. But within a few more tries he’s got it down, and it doesn’t take long until a fire’s blazing.
Most of us huddle around it, desperate to get some warmth. The only one who remains on the edge is Kyor, as if our collective betrayals are contagious.
Part of me wants to beg him to join us. He shouldn’t suffer because of us, and that wound of his isn’t going to heal right if it’s seizing from the cold.
But he’s a grown man and it’s not like he’s going to listen to me. Still, once the rest of us are settled, I hand out some fruit.
‘We didn’t get the best supplies. Sorry,’ I confess, unsure why I’m apologising. He was the one to request supplies; he could have specified what we wanted, but I should have checked them. This was a joint fuck-up.
Kyor doesn’t respond. Clearly, he’s in no mood for conversation, especially with me.
I’m sure I’m not the only one wondering if Elska will be willing to hunt for us, but none of us are foolish enough to suggest such a thing just now. Kyor’s pain is hers. Kyor’s hurt is hers. And Kyor’s anger … well, I’m willing to bet she’s got that and some more.
The wolf has definitely been giving me the cold shoulder today, along with her rider. I try to keep it off my face, how much it bothers me. So much for thinking the two of us were bonding.
‘I’ll sort my own food out,’ Kyor says as he stands up. ‘Elska wants to hunt. I’ll go with her.’
‘Are you sure?’ I ask. ‘There’s plenty here that needs eating. And you need to keep up your strength.’
‘So now you’re concerned for me?’ he grunts before turning and disappearing into the night.