“I feel hollow,” I whisper, knowing very well that’s not the kind of feelings she’s referring to. “I’m constantly forced to part with those I care most about. Taig. Osheen. Tiernan. And I’m so tired of it.”
Behind Alys, Osheen looks my way. It’s clear he’s heard me, but he turns his attention back to his horse, stroking her flank.
“I know,” Alys says. “Iknow.”
She glances at Ava who’s pacing back and forth, clearly annoyed about yet another stop.
“We should get going.” I scramble to my feet and my head swims, my entire body teetering. Alys jumps up to steady me.
We take a quick break, then get back on the road. No one speaks as we ride. We pick up the pace as night begins to fall. Every now and then, we stop for the horses to graze. We nap and rehydrate. Then we do it all over again. Until all my aches begin to feel like a second skin, until my mind has turned over so many possibilities of Tiernan’s end that it’s purely numb.Ifeel numb.
Two weeks after Tiernan was captured, the familiar black mountains of Dubh Carrig come into view along with thatched rooftops and the scent of metal and smoke clinging to the air. My heart hammers as I remember leaving here months ago with the town going up in flames. There are many houses now in charred ruins, but otherwise, it seems the village has been rebuilt from the ashes.
We stop in front of a house, the bull knocker forged from iron still on the door. Chiyo’s face is awash with so many emotions that my heart cracks. Tears stream down her face as she practically leaps off her horse and dashes toward the door.
Somehow, before she even lifts her hand to the knocker, the door flies open and Haruka, her neck-length grey hair shimmering from the interior candlelight, throws her arms around her daughter. We all dismount as the two remain locked in a tearful embrace. Haruka finally relinquishes Chiyo and looks at the rest of us, a dejected crew.
I’m close enough to her to read her lips when the dreaded words are aimed at Alys. “Where is my son?”
And just like that, the numbness that settled into me disappears, ignited once more by grief, guilt, and anger.
I think I prefer feeling nothing.
Chapter 52
After a dreamless sleep,I wake to minimal sunlight flitting into the room through slightly parted curtains. I rub my hand across my cheek where saliva has crusted over—embarrassing—and glance around with bleary eyes. It seems my blankets are the only ones remaining in the seating area, but Alys is fast asleep in the threadbare armchair and Osheen is barely awake on the couch. Even Isobel looks half asleep as she polishes the sword resting across her lap.
As her gaze connects with mine, she grins. She makes sure her weapon is balanced before signing, “Good morning.”
It tugs a genuine smile from me. “Good morning.”
A dull ache persists between my eyes and at my temples, but it’s nothing I cannot handle. My body is sore and heavy, but I feel somewhat refreshed, and sleeping on a carpet is far more comfortable than sleeping on the ground, open to the elements.
Chiyo steps in, her hair loose, her feet bare, and a dressing gown tied around her waist. She holds a cup of steaming tea and a saucer in her hands. With a soft smile, she says, “Oh, thank Rhianu. I felt awful that I was going to have to wake you.”
I rub sleep from my puffy eyes, then I slide my hand over my hair. It feels simultaneously dry and oily, and I don’t even wantto think about the tangles that exist within the messy braid. I’d only sponged off with a wet cloth last night before going to sleep—I crave a proper bath.
Thanking Chiyo, I sip the hot tea as others file in and out of the room, doing various things. It’s impossible for me to keep my mind off Tiernan; I keep expecting him to walk out of the bathing chamber as he did the last time we were here. The sinking reminder that he’s not with us makes the tea churn in my stomach.
When I get the chance, I bathe and wash my hair, remembering how he twined my curls around his finger back at the hot spring, how he revered my body. I didn’t reciprocate. I told him I didn’t want to go further. My gut clenches with regret—what if those were our last moments together?
It takes me a while to regain my composure, and by the time I return to the sitting room, my chest aches from holding back tears.
The house soon fills with the aroma of breakfast. Haruka lays out rice, eggs, potatoes, and soft steamed buns. I remember this breakfast from the last time we stayed here, and it feels oddly comforting even though it’s so different from what I’m used to. It seems my stomach has grown accustomed to not eating much, but I take my fill.
As everyone clears the table, Haruka looks at me and signs, “May I speak with you, alone?”
My breath catches slightly. Does she blame me for her son’s abduction? It is my fault that he’s gone, but?—
“Stop that,”she says into my mind. I jump so hard that my knee hits under the table, the dishes shaking atop it. She gives me an apologetic smile, and I watch the next words form on her lips. “My son wasn’t wrong when he said your thoughts were loud.”
Laughter escapes me and I nod, tears prickling at the back of my eyes. “He constantly reminds me.”
I stand and follow her out of the kitchen, into a small room with a simple bed. The room is immaculate, the bed perfectly made. A few crude weapons hang on the walls, and there’s a beautiful view through the window of the rolling black hills.
Haruka stands in front of me. She’s the same height as Chiyo, and I look down very slightly at her, but gods she is intimidating. I’m certain that her eyes could slice me in half. They remind me even more of Tiernan’s than Chiyo’s do.
“I wanted to apologize for putting pressure on you to join the rebellion when I first met you,” she says.
