Behind her, Zera said, “You’re just... following thatthinginto the dark. See, this is what I’m talking about when I sayplan. You could ask me if I have any cat-eye talismans. I do. Want one? Offers better night vision. Or if you want to preserve my talismans for emergencies, we could use a lantern. Nice, simple solution. How about a lantern? You don’t even have to do or say anything to use one.” When Kreya didn’t answer, she said,“Okay then. I am going to grab a lantern. Don’t . . . Just . . . I’ll be right back.”
The darkness folded around her like a coat. She stepped carefully, knowing how much trash had been shoved down here, knowing it was all wrecked and burnt and nothing would be where she’d left it. Her toes collided with an object, and she felt ahead of her, climbing over it.
Ahead of her, the bird whirred, and she followed the noise.
“So very clever,” she said, praising it.
The villagers wouldn’t know the cellar led into the caves, but her construct had remembered. Kreya hadn’t known it was that bright.
Listening hard, she heard the murmuring, nonsense words tumbling over one another, and she smiled in the darkness, as much as her heart ached. “My little ones.”
She felt fabric brush against her as the rag dolls surrounded her. Stopping, she knelt, and they clambered over her. She stroked them as if they were living pets in need of reassurance. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. You must have been so scared. But I’m here now. I’ll take care of you. I wish...” Her voice broke. She swallowed and continued. “I wish you could tell me what they did with Jentt. Did they destroy him? Did they take him with them? How long ago were they here, and what direction did they go?”
She knew they couldn’t answer, and she wasn’t certain whether they could understand any of what she said. They continued to crawl over her, nestling against her neck, circling around her waist, pressing against her as if her closeness comforted them.
And then they shrieked and scattered as light flickered against the wall.
“Come back, it’s okay,” Kreya called.
Zera carried the lantern into the cellar. “Oh, look at that, the Shield of Lothmenan—or what’s left of it.” She poked at the shield with her foot. The heat from the fire had melted the designs, though the shape was still intact. “Where’s your little atrocity?”
Kreya took the lantern from Zera and climbed over the rubble in the cellar. She pulled aside a crumbling barrel and squeezed behind it.
Gently, Zera said behind her, “You shouldn’t get your hopes up. One little bird can’t have been strong enough to carry Jentt’s body to safety.”
Kreya hadn’t let herself hope that, even to form the thought in her mind, but now that Zera had said it out loud, it suddenlydidseem possible. She rushed into the caves. Behind her, she heard Zera swear and hurry after her.
The bird construct was waiting for her inside, as were the rag dolls.
“Oh, they survived,” Zera said. “Yay.”
“On their own, they’re weak,” Kreya said, her heart pounding so hard it hurt.Please, please...She couldn’t even articulate the hope. It was too delicate. “Together, they’re strong.”
“Like us. Except not. Because I’m badass on my own, thank you.”
They followed the rag dolls and the bird deeper into the cave. Kreya thrust the lantern before her, hoping with every fiber in her body that its light would fall across the one shape in the world she wanted to see.
How deep did they flee? And had they really carried Jentt this far? Could they have? Why would they? Maybe she’d misunderstood. Maybe she was wasting time, when she could have been chasing the villagers. After all, the constructs weren’t—
She halted as the cave widened. Here, natural light filtered through a slit in the cavern. It shimmered as dust from the cave lingered in the air, so that the beam seemed solid, as if she could touch it. It fell on a slab of granite, and lying on the stone...
“I’d asked them to give him sunlight,” she heard her own voice say as she stared at the linen-wrapped body on the stone. “He always wanted to see the sunrise and sunset, every time I woke him. They remembered that.”
“I don’t believe it,” Zera said. “Your little monsters did it!”
Kreya knelt. “So clever, my little ones.”
They swarmed her like happy puppies.
“Okay then,” Zera said. “I’ll get the bones. You do the spell. Before a torch-wielding villager comes back to check on his handiwork, because I’ve had enough of this shit day.”
Kreya laughed. “As always, you elevate a meaningful moment to pure poetry.”
Zera grunted at her. “I’m taking the lantern. You keep the atrocities.”
As Zera disappeared back into the tunnel, toward the tower, Kreya moved to the granite slab. She sat beside Jentt’s body, while the rag dolls huddled around her. She had nearly lost him, for a second time. “Never again,” she swore.
Chapter Nine
