The hands he stares down at don’t belong to him anymore. He’s been made wrong. This whole thing is wrong. He’s stuck in another nightmare, and he can’t wake up.
“Then...” He gasps for air, wetting his lips. “Then, it’s better this way.” The words don’t feel like they should belong to him, but his mouth tastes the same as it always does. He can’t find the words to explain that he’s doing this for her; to give her back what he stole. Basuin wants to claw his tongue out, feed it to the wolf-man in an offering. Here, eat the rest of me, too.
Ren falters, shifting her weight from foot to foot, but her eyes don’t leave his.
Coward, the wolf-man laughs at him. It isn’t even angry anymore. Still a scared little boy left alone in the woods.
“This is the last thing I will do for you, Basuin of Ankor.” Her voice is steady, a harder edge than normal. She wields herself like a weapon once again, something he’s no longer accustomed to. “We’ll go to the elder tree—together.”
As her back becomes smaller, and darker, and more distant, Basuin can’t bring himself to move. This should be cause for celebration. Basuin finally gets the death he’s wished for, the death he’s deserved.
But if he doesn’t go to the Blacksalt Sea, then it’s all been for nothing.
Chapter 17
The morning breaks sooner than he wished it would. He can’t bring himself to tell Yaelic the truth of it, so he doesn’t wake the boy. He’s too young, too loyal. Bound himself to Bass without a second thought. If Basuin told him, the heartbreak alone would shatter the jade yolk of Yaelic’s eyes, and that’s too much for him to bear.
Ren’s eyes, obsidian and sharp and resentful—almost sad—were heavy enough. Like a chain wrapped around his neck, stealing his last breath.
At the edge of the village, she’s waiting for him, along with two spirits more than Basuin bargained for. Ko is draped along Haaman’s back, still taller than Bass even with his back hunched. Haaman sees him first, blowing out a harsh breath through their nostrils and looking away. Ko turns at this, and Ren follows suit, and Basuin strides along toward them.
“Captain!”
He curses.
Yaelic barrels toward him, nearly losing his balance, eyes panicked. Behind him, Hami chases after his brother, a righteous anger scrunching his face.
“Captain,” Yaelic pants, skidding to a stop before him. “Where—” He gulps down air, hands on his knees. “You’re leaving me behind?”
Basuin frowns, but Hami latches onto Yaelic, tugging him away. “You’re not taking him again. He doesn’t belong to you.”
It strikes him now how much older Hami seems than Yaelic. Not taller, but stockier somehow. When Yaelic balls his fists up, it looks petulant. The way Hami stands, one arm hooked around his brother, fingers curled by his side, it radiates a fury that Bass accepts. The sleeves of his robe stop well above his wrists. He’s outgrown it already.
“Get off me.” Yaelic struggles out from his brother’s grasp. “You don’t own me either, Hami. I’m going with him.”
“You’re my brother.” Hami wilts, and it’s enough that Yaelic finally pushes him off. Hami is bigger than Yaelic, yes, but he’s still just a pup. A child who lost his mother and is scared to lose his brother.
“He’ll be safe,” Basuin says, before he has a chance to consider telling Yaelic to stay. “Yaelic will always have my protection. You have my vow.”
But for how long? the wolf-man inside him huffs, rolling onto its back in laughter. Shame burns just below his skin.
“We’ll be back,” Yaelic tells Hami, shoving his shoulder. “Right?” Now, he looks to Bass, the green of his eyes sparkling with excitement and curiosity. Bass can’t say no to that, so he just nods his head. Yaelic, at least, will be back.
As Yaelic skips off to greet Ren, Hami is left staring at Basuin with glassy eyes. “You’re our enemy,” he seethes. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”
“I know,” Bass answers, biting his tongue.
Hami watches them with sharp eyes as they exit Gyeosi, lingering until the trees swallow them and Hami disappears from sight. Maybe he lingers well after, too. Basuin will never know, but he feels an emptiness settle into his body with every step they take.
“Where are we’re going anyway, Captain?” Yaelic asks bright-eyed.
“Away from here,” he says. Away from you, he hears, from a memory long ago that still tastes like the man he laid with. “To the Crying Trees.”
Do you think I have anyone left to go back to?
You think I do? Basuin asked him, kicking at the broken porcelain under his boot that spilled over the tent floor. Where will you go when we’re done?
Anywhere, Isaniel said. Away from you.
