The snow continues to fall around us, quiet and indifferent. I hold my children and I breathe, and it takes a very long time before I am ready to move again.
The word reaches us before Enovar does. One of the Avanki scouts returns first, saying only that he is coming and that he is injured. Colsar's expression does not change but I feel something move in him and I am already turning when Enovar rides back into the line.
His cloak is gone. His arm hangs at an angle that arms do not hang at. "Those birds," he says, bringing his horse alongside mine, his voice carrying its usual ease in a way that costs him something now, "are quite convenient."
"Your arm," I say.
"Yes." He looks at it with mild interest. “They do not hold back.”
He smiles weakly. “But the path is clear, not a single one of them will touch my little cousins.”
The cold drops further. "Enovar?—"
"Do not." He says it gently. “Even deathmages cannot kill what is already dead. The arm will return to what it was." A pause. "But I am weaker than I was before. Weak enough that Syle is already pulling at me and I will likely end up back in Alarna whether I wish it or not." He looks at me with those too-young eyes that carry too much in them. "The bite together with Syle reaching for you from so far has taken something from us. We need to be back together."
"How do you do that?" I ask. "Simply return?"
He smiles. "I will myself back to where I belong."
"Enovar." I reach for him. "Let me find a healer?—"
"Stop." He says it warmly. "That is a waste. Once I return to Syle I will be as I was." He holds my eyes for a moment. "Truly."
Then something quieter moves through his expression.
"In truth, dear cousin," he says, "you do not need me. The Avanki are loyal to you. Kentan can be trusted." His eyes move briefly to Colsar. "And your husband is a killer of fun, but he will keep you safe." He looks back at me. "Not that you need it. I felt your power from miles away."
He is breathing harder now, the effort of it showing in the lines of him.
"What can I do?" I ask. "What do you need?"
He tilts his head. "A kiss on the cheek," he says, "and tell me I am considerably more handsome than Syle."
"Absolutely not," I say.
He laughs, and it is real, and then he reaches out and ruffles my hair with the hand that still works, and says, "Be well, cousin. We will meet again soon."
He winks.
And then he is simply gone, only cold air where he was, the faint impression of warmth already fading.
The mountain is quiet. The snow continues to fall, indifferent as it has been all day. I hold my children and look at Colsar and he looks back at me, and neither of us speaks, because there is nothing that needs saying yet. We are alive. They are alive. The path to Veynar is still ahead of us.
That is enough. For now, that is enough.
CHAPTER 72
The Keeper
We ride for a long time before anyone speaks. Kentan rides beside me without being asked. I notice this about him, that he positions himself where he is needed before anyone thinks to place him there.
Since we left Shalvar, he has simply been present. Close to the transport, close to the children, close to whatever requires his attention without drawing attention to it. I look at him now, at the particular quality of his stillness on horseback, the way he carries himself like someone far older than he looks.
"What are you?" I ask.
He considers the question with the seriousness it deserves. "A Keeper," he says.
"I don't know what that is."
