“Some medical trick,” Vidar said.
“You killed me?”
Vidar lifted his gaze to me, his eyes apologizing while his words said something different.
“You said once that the only way to break this bond between us is for one of us to die. It stood to reason that it was the same with Akareth. I had no other choice, Dahl. I—”
“No,” I said. “I…” Pausing, I shrugged the blanket off my shoulders and swallowed whatever was left of the meat in my mouth. “I can only hope I would have been strong enough to do it if I were in your position.”
I watched as Vidar and Meridan exchanged a sorry-filled glance.
“I…” Meridan said. “I tried to stop him.”
A breath of silence passed around the fire until I reached out, placing my hand over the top of hers. She was fiercely picking at her nails until I stopped her. On contact, I remembered how cold her skin was. It was aways that way. Warmth did not grace her blood like it did most. I had grown so used to it, but while I slept and weeks passed in a nightmare that stole all sense of reality from my thoughts, the feel of her skin was almost foreign to me.
As were words of comfort when I could still recall the look on her face when Akareth tore her apart in front of me, again and again and again.
I took a deep breath and drew back my hand.
“I need water I think,” I said, getting to my feet again. “I’m going to sit alone for a bit.”
“Are you sure?” Vidar asked.
I locked eyes with him, forcing myself not to look away again.
“I have watched the two of you die the most horrendous deaths countless times in the past weeks.”
“Three days,” Vidar corrected.
I blinked, unable to acknowledge him. Three days was a lie. A blatant one. It had been weeks. It had been a grueling, torturous two weeks. Or three? I could not tell how many nights I’d spent in agony. How many days. Were there days in a dream?
I shook my head with a soft smile, something inside of me laughing at how little sense it made. As I turned to head for the water, I caught a glimpse of Lyla staring at me from the shadows, her face doll-like and still. But looking at her was like holding my hand over a flame. Eventually, it didn’t matter how much pain I could take. My body decided that surviving was more important and I looked away.
Frustration was bitter. I hissed a curse at myself and headed for the trees, losing myself in the foliage. I could hear Meridan and Vidar as if they were having a hushed argument behind me, but it all disappeared when I began to follow the stream and found a larger pool of water. Desperate, I dropped to my knees by the pond and dipped my hands in like I’d just burned them over embers and needed the relief. With a sigh, I splashed some of the water on my face, sweeping it back through my knotted hair.
I looked down into the rippling surface of the water to see my face looking up at me. My hair was a mess. Dark circles tugged at the bottoms of my eyes. I looked like Lyla, disheveled and wasted.
Quickly, I began combing my fingers through my hair, washing whatever filth the strands had gathered and attempting to get some semblance of the woman I was back.
By the time my hair was thoroughly soaked and my scalp sore from tugging and combing the mess away, I settled back on my ankles and hunched over with exhaustion. How could I be exhausted after sleeping for so long? It made so little sense and yet there I was, weakened and broken, my mind half of what it was weeks… no… days ago.
Hours passed alone by that stream. Every now and then I glanced at my reflection again, hoping I still looked like myself. The longer I sat, the more my mind seemed to purge the visions of my sleep. I begged Lune to take the visions away completely, but something told me they’d never really disappear.
The air shifted in that tiny clearing. Sounds changed, blocked by something that was not there moments ago. I could hear her heart beating before I heard anything else.
“You’re quiet,” I said, turning to see Aeris standing next to the thin trunk of a tree.
She took a breath and then carefully entered the clearing, finding a stone to sit upon.
“The quiet ones attract the least attention,” she said. “I learned that when I was very young.”
“Where did you come from that you had to be so quiet?”
“A place where they believed what I was could be cured. That it was God’s will that they did so.”
I scoffed at the idea. “Gods have no will. Only a sick desire to watch people suffer.”
“Which is why the Yri never believed in a god.” She paused a moment, straightening her skirts. “But… I understand now that it doesn’t matter what I believe in. I do believe Akareth is real.”
