“Are you the South Wind?” I do not lower my blade. I do not dare.
He only stares. His black eyes, set beneath heavy lids, remind me of small, glinting seeds.
A scouring wind stirs the ochre sands. Even on the hottest days in the highest altitudes, Carterhaugh always offers shady reprieve. With no trees for miles, the heat cooks my flesh. “Do you understand me?”
With a dismissive glance, he sidesteps me and strides toward Zephyrus. I plant myself between them, dagger raised, eyes cold. “Not another step.”
The man’s gaze narrows above the white scarf concealing the lower portion of his face. A length of equally pale cloth swathes his skull.“I received a message from my brother.” His voice rumbles with the resonance of bass church bells.
“You are the South Wind?” He looks nothing like Zephyrus. His skin is the deep brown of baked bread.
“I am.” After a moment, he lowers his weapon, and I follow suit. “Is he dead?”
Days of travel without stopping for rest, and my exhaustion outstrips any intruding fear. “Paralyzed, or nearly so. Will you help him?”
He regards my unsightly appearance, then Zephyrus’ disheveled state, evidence of our arduous trek.
“I will not.” Turning on his heel, he strides for the dunes.
My mouth parts in surprise. “Wait!” I stumble after him. It’s so hot the heat seeps through the soles of my boots. “Where are you going?”
“Home.” He keeps walking. For a man of shorter stature, he has an impressive stride.
“But he’s your brother.” Lifting my shredded emerald skirt, I pick up the pace, knees to chest as the cracked ground transitions to soft sand. I slip sideways, which allows the South Wind to put additional distance between us. “Don’t you care for his life?”
His scabbard slaps the outside of his thigh. “You obviously do not know Zephyrus.”
“A manipulative, selfish ass?”
His footsteps slow, revealing a trail of shallow indentations leading back to the West Wind. Hours from now, the depressions will smooth, the winds filling what is empty. How many pass through this realm, all evidence of their presence cleansed come morning?
“However he has wronged you,” I say, “Zephyrus is changed.” Somewhat.
The South Wind cuts me a sidelong glance, then shakes his head. “My brother is many things, butchangedis not one of them.” He begins to climb the nearest dune, veering toward what appears to be a small sailing vessel ahead. The distance between brothers grows, and with it,my own feeling of hopelessness. Though I feel myself shrinking beneath the prospect of confrontation, I am no longer that person.
A burst of speed plants me in his path, palms lifted to halt his progress.
I do not see the man move. A sword point pricks the rise of my cheek. I flinch from the sting of it. “Stand aside, girl.”
“Please.” Hands clasped, I fall to my knees. Pride means nothing to me. I will beg, I will plead, I will explain my case however many times is necessary. “We came all this way. You wouldn’t believe what we have been through, what Zephyrus has endured.” WhatIhave endured.
The man peers down his nose dispassionately. “That is not my concern.”
“Then why did you answer his call for aid?”
He gazes beyond my shoulder. When he speaks, the response is one of fine craftsmanship, each word tucked deliberately in its place. “I did not know whether I would help until I saw him. But when I looked upon him, I remembered his past transgressions. Brother or not, my time will not be wasted on a man who lacks honor.”
The South Wind does not bid me goodbye. He simply strides off, a figure swathed in jewel tones, shrinking beneath the wavering heat.
When he vanishes behind a dune, I return to Zephyrus—because it comforts me, and because I will stand by him, even at the unfortunate end. Tomorrow, the paralysis will likely claim him. I must decide what to do next.
I kneel, cracked clay hard against my creaking knees. This realm, strange and alien to me. Dry where Carterhaugh is damp, sandy where the soil is firm, scalding where the forest is cool. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, fighting tears. Clutching his hand to my chest, I bow my head. “I tried, but it was not enough.”
If I had stayed in Thornbrook, if I had remained where it was safe and familiar, perhaps my heart would have remained unbroken. I’d hoped for a more encouraging outcome, but it was not meant to be. If we cannot go forward, then we must return to Under.
What will occur when we cross back into Pierus’ realm? Will I be able to return to Thornbrook content and purposeful after what I have experienced, the West Wind in chains beneath the earth?
“You care for Zephyrus. Why?”
