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The younger man rose to his feet. ‘For that reason, I will leave this night for a walkabout. To farewell the only place I’ve ever called home.’

Killen turned to face Riv. ‘I may take a few days, so take your time, Ribau, and make the best decision that suits you. Also, take care of her in every way possible while I’m away.’

He kissed his mother on each cheek before stalking away, disappearing into the darkness of the stone structure.

Riv cursed. ‘What in the hell?’

Killen’s words had unnerved him.

Twas as if he were giving Riv permission.But for what exactly?

Élisa also stared after her son.

In time, she turned to Riv, her expression wistful, her voice distracted. ‘He often goes on these walks to Devansi’s great never-never, where he says he can commune with the spirits better. I can’t fathom why he thinks we shall not return.’

‘Perhaps he knows what you do not.’

Élisa faced Riv with a sad smile. ‘He always has. He perceives way more and deeper than I can. He sees the way where none is visible. Even when he has been shunned by so many.’

‘What do you mean?’ Riv rasped, leaning forward.

Élisa gave him a wry smile. ‘He made friends with some local children on a ridge beyond when he was young. However, when he went blind, he was ostracized and still is to some degree. The Devansi are superstitious and consider blindness a result of some evil. Their parents told the kids to ignore him, breaking his heart. So he withdrew into himself and pursued a solo existence with just me for company. That’s when he began to take a walkabout into the deserts and fissured lands, where he taught himself to overcome his loneliness and become more self-sustaining.’

She looked away and dashed tears from her eyes as she spoke.

Sadness welled in Riv as the thought of the loneliness she must have endured raising a son alone and of the years he’d missed without these two. He struggled to dampen it rather than inflict the ugliness of his mood on Élisa. ‘That’s freakin’ tragic.’

‘When isn’t life so?’

Her words stabbed right to the heart.

If only you had stayed with me, we’d have avoided so much tragedy and pain, my silver malaíka. We’d have figured it out.

Those words were what he wanted to say to her.

Instead, his heart was weak and worn, and he had no fathomable clue what he’d do if she rejected him ever again. It was part of why he was cautious to reveal himself.

If her life had been so full of sorrow because of something he’d done in the past, and she’d chosen to walk away from him because of his actions, he’d fall apart.

Suddenly, the weariness of it all slugged him; all he wanted was to escape it. ‘Please show me where I shall sleep,’ he muttered.

She gave him a long look and then rose to her feet.

He followed her as she wound through the house’s spine, arriving at a bone-carved door.

‘This is your room.’

She stepped aside to let him enter the bare, monastic space, which was occupied by a vast stone bed covered with rugs and pillows.

Another stream of water fell from rocks above in the far corner of the room, acting as the private bathroom. The effect was quiet and soothing.

Despite the presence of water, he picked up no hint of muskiness or mold in the room, meaning the place was well-ventilated.

‘Sleep well, Ribau.’

‘Sante.’

Her farewell was simple, yet it conjured images of himfokking her so hard until she could take no more before whispering the same words into her neck.