‘Breathe, my love. Breathe with me.’
I go over to Isagani and try to hold them. They are angry, resisting me for a moment. ‘You’re right to be angry,’ I say, gently.
‘We’ve forgiven her,’ Narra says, finally. ‘You can choose to do so or not, in time. She can’t change the past, but she can make amends. I intend to make sure of that.’
Eventually Morna has no more tears, and the anger seeps out of Isagani. We are all too exhausted to fight anymore. I settle into the soft furnishings and turn to look at my kid. Isagani’s fallen asleep sitting up. Tomorrow we will try to figure out what this means for all of us. Perhaps for a time we can breathe, come up for air before we dive back into the murky waters of our future.
chapter sixty-five
ris
The captain brings usinto port at the Spring Isle, and the vessel is barely secured before passengers are scrambling over each other and scattering across the land. Where do they hope to go? There are inns and rooms, but not enough for this swell of people. Any roof will do, it seems.
I gather myself for the journey back to the farmstead.
‘Thank you.’ I meet the captain’s eye, and he gives me a stiff nod.
‘We’re heading back now. Hopefully we can find your friend.’
I swallow the bile at the back of my throat, remembering Isagani’s imploring eyes. ‘Thank Aistra for folk like you,’ I say, looking back across the water to the mainland.
Thunder booms in the distance and we watch forks of lightning illuminate the sky.
‘Is it a storm?’ I ask.
The captain stares at the distant sky and shakes his head, eyes glassy. ‘We can’t go back in this now.’
‘I’m sorry!’ I call back as I scramble up the hill, already slick with mud from travellers’ boots. I’m running away again. I’m good at that. The farm comes into view, the land sparse and empty. The animals are in the shelter, and there is a small light on in the cottage. I stumble across the muddy grass, openly weeping. I lean against the rickety gate, which buckles under my weight, and I regain my balance.
I crash through the cottage door, and I’m met with a yell. Ryla bolts out of the bedroom, an axe in hand. They catch me as I stumble and collapse in their arms.
‘Ris! Holy Aistra, am I glad to see you,’ Ryla says, wide-eyed. ‘What in Paranish is happening out there?’
‘Where is Biba—’ I start and wince at the sharp pressure on my chest. I try for shallow breaths, but then the world shrinks to a pinprick of light, and I have to let go.
When I wake, Ryla sits on the end of my bed, proffering a bowl. ‘Here, eat this.’
I try to sit up and feel a sharp stab in my side.
‘Easy,’ they encourage, settling a hand on my shoulder. ‘I set your bones while you were out cold. Your ribs were broken.’
‘Hanan fixed them.’
‘Not entirely,’ Ryla disagrees. ‘Who’s Hanan?’
I shake my head. I can’t, not yet. ‘Is this medicine?’ I ask, my voice dusty from lack of use.
They smile, mirthful but not unkind. ‘Not quite. But it will make you feel better.’
I reluctantly take the steaming bowl from their hands. Small turquoise pearls float in a deep umami broth. They hand me a wooden spoon, and I take a tentative sip. The flavours dance on my tongue: an earthy base, nutty body, and tangy top notes. I scarf down the rest.
‘Where’s Biba? Where are the others?’ I ask, wiping my mouth.
‘Biba? Isn’t she with you?’
I start, getting up. ‘Salvacion isn’t here yet?’
‘What are you talking about? Why would that bitch be here?’
