“I know how much it hurts,” she whispered. “I truly do. I know this won’t help, I know these words will seem like glass jewels, but it gets better. Bit by bit, the pain retreats. It’s never gone, not so long as you hold him in your heart.”
He squeezed her one more time. “Thank you.”
She smiled.
“And you say you don’t know how to love anyone.”
She froze at his words. Her entire body shuddered. “What?”
“If you couldn’t love, you wouldn’t care. You wouldn’t want to take away my pain.”
“But I don’t love you,” she said, pulling back from his embrace. The tears burned her eyes while the emptiness yawned in her, threatening to swallow her again.
“Not as your lover,” he said, his hand sliding up to stroke her shoulder. “But as your friend. You are the most compassionate woman I’ve met. Whatever this emptiness is inside of you, it’s not a lack of love.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” He drew in a ragged breath. “Maybe it’s guilt.” He looked down at Pharon. “If I wasn’t a coward, I could have saved him.”
“But you were there. You were fighting with us.”
He snorted. “I stood there pissing myself, too scared to fight. I couldn’t move. The moment the door burst open, shock seized every muscle in my body.”
“You have to learn to deal with surprise,” she said. “You have to train your body to think for you.”
“Maybe,” he said and then stood, breaking from her embrace. “I don’t know what you have to feel guilty for, Avena, but at least you tried.”
“Miguil!” she gasped as he staggered off towards the stables. He vanished into a stubborn haze of mist.
Avena glanced down at Pharon. Guilt rippled through her. He’d died in her place. Had he known that he would perish to save her? She stroked Pharon’s face. He looked asleep, the normal fussy expression melted away.
He’d thrown himself into danger the way a hero would in a story.
“Thank you for saving me,” she whispered, the tears spilling down her cheeks.
He wasn’t the only one who’d saved her life. In a way, Evane had. If their mother had picked Avena first . . . The emptiness swam. Was it guilt and grief? Was it the missing half of her soul wrenched away when her twin sister died?
She hugged herself and cried over the dead.
*
The sight of Avena crying over Pharon’s body struck Ōbhin.
He’d come outside to check on Fingers and Smiles. Instead, he found Avena, her body shaking. He shifted his right arm in the sling, his wrist immobilized with splints. He grunted as he stepped off the porch, each step jarring his broken ribs. Bandages bound his torso tight, constricting his breathing.
He labored to her, his entire body sore. Every muscle protested every movement, adding to the pain rippling through him. He wanted to find his bed. The sun was up. He couldn’t imagine Dje’awsa sending his dead into the sunlight. Kash appeared as a shadow, the last of the fog burning away.
With a groan, he sank down beside Avena. She sniffed and glanced at him, her brown eyes rimmed red. “You weren’t helpless today,” he said. “Were you?”
“Pharon still died.” Her hand stroked the dead man’s forehead. Her hair ruffled in a stirring breeze, the tails of her bandage swaying along her cheek.
“Wasn’t your fault. Ust came for me.”
Her brow tightened, shifting her bandage. “No, he came for me. He wanted to violate me.”
“You were just how he was going to hurt me. It wasn’t your fault. I made the choice to stay.”
“Because I convinced you.” She shook her head. “Pharon died for me. How is that not my fault?”
He sighed and then bit the end of his left glove above his middle finger’s tip. He pulled hard, drawing his hand free. A warmth burned across his cheeks as he exposed himself to her. He let the glove drop then cupped her face. His thumb brushed away her tear. A tingle raced through him. He savored the warmth of her skin. The softness of it.
The last woman’s bare face he’d touched had belonged to Foonauri.
Shock crossed her expression. “Isn’t this like going naked for you?”
“So is you going around with your face uncovered,” he said. “We’re not in Qoth, and you need this.”
“My face touched?”
“I thought we were going to do this together,” he said, brushing away another falling tear. “Polishing our souls. Today was a good start, Avena.”
She stared at him then she smiled despite the tears. For one moment, her grief vanished. He pulled his hand away from her face, glad to give her a moment of peace.
Her smile faltered after a moment. “Dje’awsa is out there.”
“And we’ve learned about him,” Ōbhin said as he picked up his glove he’d spat from his mouth. He winced as he gripped it in his right hand and slid his left into it. “What he can do. How his abominations work. He can’t hide forever.”
“You’re going to kill him?” She arched an eyebrow.
“Is it murder to kill a monster?”
She shook her head.
“You should get some sleep,” he said and grunted as he rose, his glove mostly on his left hand.
“Advice you should take.” Her hands pushed up on her knees as she stood. She glanced behind her. “Is that smoke rising over Kash?”
He glanced at the city. Dark tendrils rose around the dawning sun. “More riots.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Forty-Fifth Day
