In the distance, I watched as the Dead Mountain fell, crumbling to Kakkari’s earth, as if it had never been.
And as it fell, Mina’s heart stopped.
My roar of agony and grief echoed deep and endless into the night.
Chapter Fifty-Four
“Rowin,” came the quiet voice.
I blinked, surfacing from a daze, as I watched Mina. I had pulled up a chair next to our bed. It was there I spent every free moment, when my horde did not demand the rest of my time.
Valavik stood at the entrance of ourvoliki. His lips pressed as he watched us. Sympathy, I knew.
“Neffar?” I rasped, my voice deep and husky, as if I hadn’t spoken in a week. In some ways, I hadn’t.
“TheVorakkarof Rath Drokka and his queen have arrived at our gates,” Valavik said.
Looking back at Mina, I stroked my fingers down her smooth cheeks. They were still pale, though some color had returned to them, which filled me with hope.
It had been a week since the events of the Dead Mountain and still she had not woken.
“Tess wants to stay with her while you go about your duties for the day,” Valavik added.
“Only if Hukri accompanies her,” I grunted, rising from my uncomfortable chair, loath to take my eyes off myMorakkari.
As I stared down at her, I was struck again by the impossibility of her state. It had been a week since she’d fallen into a deep, unshakeable sleep. Though her heart had stopped out on the plains, it had begun beating, though faint, a few moments later. As if she’d toed her way into death and Kakkari had cast her back to us.
In that week’s time, it was like she’d been frozen. Though she didn’t eat or drink, her body was well-nourished. The rhythm of her breathing had not changed. And yet, every day, more of her color returned. Just yesterday morning, as I held her in my arms after a restless sleep, I swore I saw her lips move. Though, I thought that it was, perhaps, my own wishful thinking, my own dizzyingwant.
“I will let thekallesknow,” Valavik said, inclining his head and retreating. The past week, he’d given me a wide berth. All of my horde had. I went through the motions of daily duty, though I found my patience had been cut thin. My mind was with Mina, constantly. The days dragged on and yet she still would not wake.
When I strode from thevoliki, I caught Tess lingering at the bottom of the slope.
She swallowed when she saw me but cast her gaze down. “How is she?” she asked.
There was a part of me that still didn’t trust Tess, though truthfully, my complete trust in someone came rarely. Yet, I had witnessed her deep concern for Mina. A few days after we returned to the horde, Tess had confessed to me her torment after Mina had helped me escape the Dead Mountain. She confessed to me that she’d believed the worst about my wife and every moment since, it had haunted her.
Cracks among the human villagers had only widened since we’d left. Benn had become even more of a monster, even as he recovered from his injuries and his wounded pride.
The wells had dried up shortly after Mina left. They sent scouts far and wide, to bring back whatever water they could find, however dirtied or unclean. Some of the villagers had left the Dead Mountain, escaping into the night, and they hadn’t heard from them since.
When the witches came, Tess told me their blood magic restored the well, however briefly, but it came at a price. Benn had chosen an older male named Ian to give to thesarkias.
Assacrifice.
To use his blood and his life’s force for their runes.
Tess had protested. Half of the remaining group had protested. Benn had beat her for it, nearly killing her in the process, and gave Ian to thesarkiasanyway.
“But we didn’t protest enough,” Tess had told me, with tears in her eyes. “And it made me realize what monsters we’d all become. All I could think about was Mina. How horrified she’d be if she saw us now.”
Then came her next confession that night, but she’d looked me squarely in the eyes as she said it. “I killed Benn. I killed him in the throne room when he lay next to me unconscious. I took the dagger from his waist and I plunged it into his still body because I wanted to make sure that he’d never wake up again.”
“Why do you tell me this?” I’d asked her.
She’d shrugged. Her face had been washed. She was clean and well-fed among the horde. All the humans that remained were. But there was still a deep ache I sensed within all of them. An ache that might never heal, though it would get better with time.
“Because it is like I am tellingher,” Tess had said, surprising me. Her eyes had glittered as she said the words. “And because she is not yet awake, I will tell these things to you. And I want her to know all the terrible things I’ve done, all my sorrow and grief and guilt. But I will never be sorry for killing him. I am only sorry it took me so long.”
