Page 22

I remember how he stammered when upset and chewed on his nails when nervous, just like Naeva and Father. The jagged edges of his nails still bear the marks of his habit.

I remember how hopeless he was at archery, recall every insult I ever threw at him and every embrace we shared.

I remember everything he taught me about rocks, plants, and the forest. I remember how he gathered knowledge with the same enthusiasm Naeva has for collecting jewelry.

I remember how fiercely protective he’d always been of me and how little I’d appreciated it over the sun cycles. All the cruel words I’d thrown his way.

I remember how he promised to fix everything and naively claimed he would find a solution to my problem, to my not being allowed to carry weapons or join the defense. I don’t know what he thought he could do, but he was ready to fight for it.

We’ll figure this out when you’re released. Do you hear me? We’ll fix this.

Steady, kind, protective. My brother.

I press my cheek against his and squeeze my eyes shut tightly. My fingertips trail over his jagged nails as a raw, unrestrained scream tears from me. Again.

I scream out grief. I scream out in anguish. I scream out in pain.

This can’t be happening!

I can’t breathe. No air fills my lungs. My throat feels heavy, thick as lead, and my breaths are ragged and rasping, rough like a miner’s. I’m hyperventilating. My hands refuse to stay still. Shaking, shaking, shaking. My teeth chatter, clattering like nails scraping against stone.

Mother starts coughing, and her hand clamps around my wrist.

“Mother!” I force myself to shake off the hysteria. “You’re alive!”

“Iszaelda,” she rasps, her voice barely audible. Her eyes are cloudy, veiled by a faint, translucent film. She coughs again, spraying warm flecks of blood onto my arms.

I pull away from Aeralon and crawl to her, collapsing flat against the floor. I don’t even have the strength to sit up. “Mother, don’t push yourself too hard. I’ll get you out of here. I’ll?—”

“No!”

I flinch.

“Listen to me, reasaa mnant’a.” She closes her eyes and coughs again, her breath rattling as her hand flutters weakly toward her throat.

I push myself onto my elbows, her grip still locked around my wrist. Tight, unyielding, as if she’s trying to sever it entirely.

“There’s something… I haven’t told you,” she whispers.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s so much… that you don’t know. About yourself.”

“About me?” My pulse begins to slow. Mother is alive. She’s alive, she’s speaking, she’s touching me. I must focus on the positive. Father is dead, Aeralon is dead, but Mother is alive.

“There are star elves… on our side. Many of them.”

“Are there?” I grasp her shoulders, leaning in closer. My face is near hers, not close enough to feel her breath, but close enough to catch the scent of her skin and her perfume. Cloves and lilacs. A sharp contrast to all this death.

She releases her grip on my wrist. “Find them.”

“But—”

“You have kin… among them.”

“Kin? What are you talking about?” I shake my head, dirty hair whipping my cheeks. The floor digs into my elbows, biting like teeth. I can’t bring myself to shift positions. I don’t have the strength.

I don’t want to. Not now. I feel frozen in place.

“Here, take my necklace, reasaa. I want you to… wear it.” She fumbles with the clasp at the back of her neck, struggling until she finally manages to undo it and holds it out to me.

I take it reluctantly, her cold fingers brushing against mine. “But you know I don’t like jewelry, Mother.” I want to scream. To cry. The tears burn behind my eyes, desperate to escape. Will they succeed this time?

“The necklace,” she rasps.

“Yes?” I swallow hard.

“Nardual Asaar…”

“What do you mean?”

“Nardual Asaar.” Her skin is glasslike. As pale as my hands beneath the dirt and dust. It feels as though life is slipping through her, draining away with every shallow breath.

“I heard you,” I murmur, the words easier to speak in a whisper, as if quieter might lessen the ache. “What is it? Is that the name of the necklace?”

Her eyes remain shut, her breathing slow and strained. From outside, the distant sounds of screams drift in: shouts, cries, and perhaps even drums—sounds from Parae. It’s all a blur, a muddled fog, like I’m trapped in a nightmare.

“What don’t I know about myself?” My thumbs dig into her shoulders, pressing against collarbones sharp as brittle twigs.

Silence.

“Mother, please, don’t die! Try to survive. Please, try!”

She rasps something inaudible, her lips barely moving.

“You’re only five hundred and ten sun cycles, Mother. You have so many left before you are old. You have?—”

“Naeva.”

I jolt, crawling even closer. Splinters scrape against my elbows and knees. There’s something wet beneath one of my thighs. “Naeva?”

Silence.

“Is she alive? Is Naeva alive?”

Mother grips my hand, holding it tightly. “Taken.”

“Taken!”

“She won’t survive… without her… medicine.”

My heart races. “I’ll find her, Mother. I promise you. I swear I’ll bring her back.”

She lets out a shallow breath, her eyes slipping shut. Her snow-white hair spreads around her like a halo, and the hand that held me so tightly goes limp.

I fall. Hard and fast. And there’s no one to catch me. No one to help. No one’s left alive. They’re all gone. Dead.

I stagger to my feet and lash out, throwing whatever I can grab—jars, tunics, boots, vases. Crash. Crash. Crash.

My fists slam into the walls, each strike reverberating through the silence. I scream, and the sound echoes endlessly, filling the emptiness around me.

I’m hollow inside, a shell of who I once was. It feels as if I’ve fallen from the Sun Tree, hitting the ground. Every bone broken. Yet I’m still alive. Forced to endure it. To feel it. Again and again.

I collapse to the floor, settling between Mother and Aeralon, pulling their cold arms around me. Now Father will be alone. Poor Father. I’ll go to him soon. Just… not yet.

I can’t summon the strength to stand. I can’t summon the strength to move. To do anything.

All I want is to close my eyes and join them, to stay with them, to keep them safe and warm.

Because they’re dead.