I took away the desert, the sea, the sand. I erased the hate, the zealots, the stones.
Dreams of flowers, of first kisses, of smiles and sunrises, and the taste of warm bread flowed from my fingertips into her being as I leached away the pain.
I didn’t stop there.
One arm beneath her back, one under her knees, and within an instant I’d scooped her into my arms. The cloudless sky faded from blue to shades of orange as the sun dipped behind the rocky crags. Dead to the world of madness and men, her head lolled, settling against my chest as I carried her to the caves on the northern shore and set her down far from the cruelties of the humans who’d wronged her.
What are you doing? Why are you here? What is your plan?
I didn’t know.
I could have departed when Gula left.
I could have abandoned the girl on the shore.
I could have returned to my realm now that she was mended and safely hidden in a pocket of shadow and sandstone. With the flick of a wrist, a blue fire set the cave alight. It hovered a few inches above the crumbling sediment, casting silhouettes on the young woman’s face as the flames danced.
Don’t leave me.
The words played on repeat despite the unfamiliar voice that attempted to shout within me. I’d made no agreements. There was no contract between us. I had no obligation to this human. Yet there I sat, unable to move as I watched her eyes move beneath her lids as she dreamed.
The moonless night was black, save for the silver stars burning through the cave’s mouth. I stared at her over theblue flame, hoping the girl would be glad for its warmth when she awoke. When she stirred, I realized there would already be enough to startle her and didn’t want to add to the panic. I waved a hand and the flame disappeared.
Her eyes opened and I watched her from the far side of the cave, hyperaware of how small she looked. Her clothes were simple rags, and after the day’s events, they were little more than tatters. A scrap of cloth slipped from her shoulder as she struggled to sit up.
I held my breath, mind racing as I waited to see if she’d see me as she had before. The mortal mind did curious things in the moment between life and death, after all, much like the vibrant hue of her soul peeking through the veil. Perhaps I’d be invisible, as I should be to human eyes, and I could leave her knowing I’d done her a kindness.
She pulled her knees to her chest, hugging herself tightly as she examined me.
I swallowed. “Don’t be scared.”
The air in the cave evaporated as we remained caught in uncertainty before she spoke.
Her voice was quiet, but strong as she asked, “Are you an angel?”
With the question came the return of pity.
Her god. Her faith. His servants.
Heaviness filled me as I looked at the hope in her eyes, gazing at a human who’d been punished and left for dead and who still thought that her deity cared for her, even now. My heart cracked knowing that, of all the things that had accosted her today, my answer might be the thing that shattered her.
“No.”
She shook her head as she tried to make sense of me. I saw each memory flash through her eyes, wincing as if each recovered thought was a slap across her face. To herself, shesaid, “I didn’t denounce him. No matter what they said. I was faithful. I was good, and?—”
“I know,” I said. I wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but stopped myself. I withdrew slowly. I pulled in a measured breath of air, tasting the sharp scent of something like the essence just between cloud and sky.
The opalescent soul I’d noticed in her moment before death flared, and I saw it shimmer beneath her skin once more. There was an ozone quality to her pearl aura, something so pure, so beautiful, that I couldn’t quite name. It made my words all the more painful.
“He didn’t deserve your loyalty. Your refusal to turn your back on that which ignored you…it broke something in me.”
I wasn’t sure why I’d said it. She deserved more. Maybe my feelings toward the enemy kept my wrath smoldering at a low simmer. She represented so many facets of the war, without having any idea as to the role she played.
Her face scrunched against the pain, not of physical wounds but the memories of stones, of tears, of shattering bones and unanswered cries. “But I waited for him, and?—”
And because I didn’t know what to say, I told her the truth.
“The gods you call aren’t always the ones who answer.”
