Thumbing through the pages, I show them a series of drawings of Aven over the past year. Each image has a short written description of the various milestones in her life. Aven as a baby in Sash’s arms, Aven crawling across the floor of our cavern, Aven standing beside Kyra at the entrance to Home, and Aven taking her first steps on the Empty Hill are each sketched on a separate page.
Sewn to one sheet of canvas is a small lock of Aven’s hair that I cut off several months ago while she was sleeping. Intermixed with my drawings, I included a few of Aven’s finger paintings and a traced sketch of her hand that I made when she was six months old.
“Boo-i-ful pitchers, Daddy!” Aven gasps.
“I’m really glad you like them,” I say to her. After leaning over to kiss her forehead, I turn to Sash. “I’ll teach Aven to read the words. I want her to be able to read the alphabet . . . the symbols we use in my world for words. If you want to learn, I can teach you at the same time.”
“I’d like that,” she replies. “I can’t believe how much time it must have taken you to make this.”
“I enjoyed every moment of it. Living it first, and then re-living it while making the book.”
Sash slips an arm around my waist and lays her head on my shoulder, the first physical affection she’s shown to me since our hug before I went to the Reflecting Pool months ago. I reach one arm around her, pull her close to me, and rest my head against hers.
She’s been friendly with me over the months that have passed, but I wouldn’t describe her interaction with me as loving. We’ve searched for Tela, coexisted in the same habitat, played with our daughter, and gone to sleep in the same bed at the end of each morrow. But it’s been a purely platonic relationship. I’ve been waiting for her to let me know that we’re on the path to repair. Maybe this is the first step.
Aven jumps up from the floor and throws one arm around Sash’s neck and the other around mine. For the first time in recent memory, I feel a genuine sense of happiness.
“I like birfday!” Aven squeals.
“It’s your special morrow,” I say.
“Sleep wif Mommy and Daddy?” she asks.
“Of course,” I answer.
After looking through the baby book again, we all get ready for bed. Sandwiched in between Sash and me, Aven passes out as soon as the light fades away. I reach a hand over her body and rest it on Sash’s shoulder. I’m a little surprised that Sash doesn’t lay a hand on mine or react in any way, but at least she doesn’t push it away. I take that as a positive sign.
On our next search with Maya, we begin east of the river near the southern barrier to the Infinite Expanse. Feeling like we finally have a solid lead as to where Tela might be, all three of us start the morrow in high spirits. We use a much slower pace than usual while working our way to the east and allow Maya a little extra time on the ground at each stop. In addition to Maya trying to sense something, Sash and I complete thorough searches of the hills around any trees we see.
Several more weeks pass in the southeastern Barrens without us finding any signs of Tela. The glimmer of hope that we had from Angelicusepte’s information gradually fades away. Again and again, I replay Sash’s words from months ago in my head.
“The longer she’s in the Barrens, the less likely it is we’ll ever see her again.”
At the end of one morrow, I finally make another visit to the Reflecting Pool. Standing in the aqua light, I ask the water if Tela is alive. I see the same image of Tela sitting alone in front of a tree. When I ask if there’s a way to find her, the Pool again shows me Maya. I also remember Eval’s words about an unasked question, so I ask the Pool if I will find Tela. The only image the glassy water displays in response to that question is my reflection.
When Sash and I drop Maya off at the end of our search morrows with her, we both notice the toll it’s taking on her. Even with our every third morrow procedure, the bags under Maya’s eyes have become permanent fixtures and her complexion has become increasingly sallow. I’m sure in addition to the physical stress, the mental burden of being shown to me in the Reflecting Pool weighs heavier and heavier on her mind. Although she never complains, her mood becomes more and more despondent. Sash and I try to restore her confidence with frequent praise for her efforts, but I realize that she’s losing the last of her hope.
In the same way that I recognize the toll the search is taking on Maya, I see the wear and tear on Sash’s face. Although she never says anything, I know the morrows away from Aven are hard on her.
Almost every morrow that we don’t search the Barrens with Maya, I go out on my own. Larn’s spirits were lifted in the same way that mine were by the revelation from Angelicusepte. He’s more than willing to have the other Travelers pick up my workload so that I can continue the search.
Retracing ground that Sash and I covered with Maya in the southeast Barrens, I scour the areas around trees and search for hidden caverns. Standing alone on the tops of rocky hills, I shout out Tela’s name again and again. The only response I ever receive is the echo of my voice across the empty wasteland.
On the morrows that I go out on my own, I often return long after Sash and Aven have gone to sleep. It’s not uncommon for me to only doze off for a
