Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 242728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1214(@200wpm)___ 971(@250wpm)___ 809(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 242728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1214(@200wpm)___ 971(@250wpm)___ 809(@300wpm)
And I suddenly remembered a vital part of who that was.
What I’d always been.
Rivoza was right. Quelis had been right. Every entity and creature that claimed I was death was telling the truth.
Life diminished into dust...because of me.
The hummingbirds slid through my psyche first: their feathers shed and no longer needed. The owl flew on silent wings made of ether, and the hundreds of crickets, cicadas, and frogs that I’d silenced with just a ripple of power sprinkled through my spirit, tiny flashes of silver and light, returning to the source from where they belonged.
Tears blinded me as I slowly lifted my head.
The final spirit licked through mine, saying goodbye, whispering hello, recognising that this wasn’t the end but the start of a new beginning.
Their release and acceptance broke my mortal heart.
Their wisdom and freedom shared a memory that I’d forgotten.
I didn’t need the air element to tell me what to do next.
I opened my flesh and bone arms.
I fell backward onto the bracken-littered forest floor.
I followed the spirits of all the creatures I’d so callously killed, fading into the ever after, descending into the darkness where so many were cradled and comforted.
The web I’d seen in one of my visions unspooled beneath my feet. A cosmos-covering tapestry made up of strings of light and consequence, glittering with droplets of presence and sight.
For a moment, I just stood in the centre of that web and breathed. I flexed my hands and slipped back into the ancient role I’d forgotten. No other memories came to me. Every hidden part of who I was didn’t suddenly unravel, but for once, I was content.
Content that I’d remembered this much, and I was finally home.
With another flex of darkness, I stepped onto the first thread and searched for the droplet that would show me what I needed to see.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
. Runa .
“HERE, DRINK THIS.”
I opened my eyes to sunlight and Olish. The healer’s pale skin and vibrant blue eyes were so different to the smokiness of Darro’s.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Olish smiled with white, slightly crooked teeth. “Do you know where you are? Remember your name? How about what happened last night?”
Remember my name?
Of course, I did. I would never forget again, thanks to Solin drawing an intricate ash bee onto my hand. Frowning a little, I went to raise my arm to show him that his worry about my faulty memory was misplaced, only for a hiss to escape clenched teeth as every muscle in my body smarted.
I stiffened and moaned, sinking back into the soft furs that cradled me in the usual corner where I slept in Solin’s lupic. Sunshine shone through the smoke hole in the roof, and the Spirit Master himself sat cross-legged beside a cool ash-filled fireplace.
How did I end up here?
How long have I been sleeping?
Olish cupped strong, warm fingers beneath my head and helped guide me up a little. Placing a carved wooden cup against my lips, he repeated, “Drink this. It will ease the rest of your aches.”
Aches.
I definitely suffered those.
But why?
What did I do last night?
His blue eyes narrowed with healer commands as he waited for me to obey. Opening my lips, I drank down what he poured into my mouth, wincing at the sharp, sour flavours. I recognised lemon balm and willow bark from the previous concoctions I’d drunk when the Nhil first found me.
My eyes widened as my throat throbbed with bruises, just like it had the night after Aktor had strangled me.
Swallowing the last tart mouthful, Olish gave me a cheery smile and sat back on his haunches, taking the empty cup with him. “There, you’ll feel better in a bit.” Holding up his hand, he speared three fingers upright while curling the rest into a fist. “How many fingers?” He kept his stare on mine, assessing me carefully.
I scowled. “Three.” Bracing myself, I eased upright, groaning a little but refusing to lie there like an invalid.
Bits and pieces of last night slowly returned: Darro’s blistering blackness. Aktor’s scream as the shadows threw him into the clouds. The shock of Aktor tumbling from the sky and smashing against the ground followed by—
I gasped and looked down at my body.
Outwardly, I had no injuries. No nicks on my neck from a shadow that’d drawn Aktor’s blood and no ligatures from the shades that’d strangled him. But I’d felt them. I’d cried out with mirroring pain that’d slammed into me the moment Aktor had crunched against the ground.
The bloom of agony on my shoulder and hip. The throb of my knee as it hit something hard. The crack of my skull as if Darro had tossed me into the galaxies, not Aktor.
“Take it easy today,” Olish murmured, interrupting my rapid recollections. He folded away packets of medicines and dried herbs before stuffing them into a rabbit skin bag with tassels made of bison mane. “I’ve already given you a restorative drink when Solin first summoned me. That will have brought down any swelling internally that you might’ve received. Aktor has been treated too, and apart from a few cuts and lesions, he’ll be fine.” He licked his lips with a wince. “His heartbeat is strong, just like yours. And your skin is flushed with life instead of illness. Apart from the sore throat and perhaps some tenderness here and there, you and Aktor will be perfectly recovered in a few days. Neither of you will suffer any adverse effects or need to fear that one of you will die from—”