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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

IN WHICH THIS CAMPAIGN COMES TO AN END

We had to deliver Daethie and Yrra’s share of the reward, of course, and it made sense to do that first in order to lighten our load.

The distance to the tidal marshlands they now called home took a full week to cover on foot, with breaks dedicated to letting our poor pack animal rest and graze.

Most of the journey was accomplished in relative silence, as we focused on covering ground more than socializing amongst ourselves.

When we reached their swamp, evening had fallen.

We parked the cart on solid ground and tethered Dev the avida to a grove with plenty of greenery to snack on.

Daethie and Yrra joined us, and perfunctory salutations were shared.

Their endowments disappeared somewhere safe.

Yrra showed us the lost supplies he’d been able to retrieve from the muck, which weren’t much, but we had no need of them with the items from Narille’s family.

Returning to our roots, we spent the night camping out under the stars.

Breakfast the next morning was spent reminiscing on the past. Luthri enthusiastically told us of a time he and one of his older brothers convinced the rest of their siblings that zanna was meant to be swallowed for a more comprehensive, inside-out clean.

It lasted months before their mother caught on and had the boys running errands for half the town to make up for it.

Hohem cracked a smile at one point—perhaps it brought back fond memories of his childhood.

I shared light-hearted stories about some of the other folks who had been part of our gang, however temporarily, including a stodgy older fellow who got along famously with Jük and a bratty young woman with an equally snot-nosed son.

Ked cried when the latter had to go; the rest of us were glad to see them gone.

The conversation eventually stagnated. Leftover breakfast gruel in the pot had long since gone cold, and my temples pounded from the marsh’s signature stink of wet earth and rotting organic matter. It was time to be back on the road.

I studied the map while the boys got our things together, assisted by Yrra and supervised by Daethie. Minutes later, we were hugging goodbye and promising not to forget each other.

“Don’t forget to write,” I told Yrra as I wrapped him in a quick embrace. “Solfarin isn’t far, and you’ve got all that money now, so there’s no excuse. We’ll check for news at Vhalder’s birdkeeper every few weeks so as not to miss anything.”

Yrra inclined his head. “Be sure to update us if you move.”

“Of course. And let us know if you need anything.”

“Why? Would you come rushing to our aid?” Daethie cut in.

“Sure. We’re family.” The words slipped out before I thought it through, but I didn’t regret them. I kept going. “Which is to say, you’re important to me. We might not have known each other all that long, but I’ll always remember this. This journey, the memories shared.”

“Aw, Mar.” Daethie flashed her sharp teeth in a way that suggested an insult was coming. “You’re less emotionally constipated than usual today. I’m proud of you.”

“I was talking to Yrra,” I huffed, making a face. “And I’d return a compliment, but you’re as insufferable as usual. Hope you fly into a sentient tree and get slapped out of the sky.”

She grinned, returning, “Hope you fall into a ditch and break a leg. ”

As good as well wishes, coming from her.

Backing up, I waved one final time, committing my friends’ faces to memory before leaving them behind. Luthri and Hohem joined me for the short walk back to the cart.

“You’re not going to cry, are you?” Lu teased, noting the dejected set of my mouth.

I shot him an exasperated look. “So what if I did? It’s hardly any of your concern.”

“No concern whatsoever. Just reminding you that I’ve got two perfectly good shoulders and an absorbent shirt if you need to lay your head somewhere.”

“Would be hard to have a good shoulder cry while walking, don’t you think?”

Lu mulled it over and settled for, “We’ll have to stop every quarter span until the urge is satiated or we reach Vhalder. Whichever comes first.”

I shook my head, but the bit of banter did wonders for my mood after the last couple of weeks.

I’d gotten through companions leaving the nest many times before—this, too, would pass.

That did raise other questions, though. Would Luthri also be leaving when we returned to Vhalder?

His priorities had seemed to shift over the course of this trip, but we hadn’t had that conversation yet.

Truth be told, I didn’t look forward to it.

As we got the cart together and set off, Luthri continued, lost in his musings. “On second thought… even if we reach Vhalder first, say the word, and we’ll keep it up. Really, it’s no hardship on my part. In fact, if the opportunity arises to take it somewhere private…”

“That’s enough of that,” I interrupted, not wanting to disturb Hohem with wherever that was headed. “Let’s keep up the pace, shall we? We have a long way to go.”

Luthri fell silent, and we trudged onward toward the horizon awaiting us.

Fair weather met us on the return journey, and uneventful days blended together into a week, then two. Upon reaching the familiar forest, the trees provided a welcome reprieve from the sunny plains, and the cooling nights had some of us sleeping in more than one layer.

Most of the way in, Luthri determined something was amiss.

“You know I would never dispute your leadership,” he began, flashing a sheepish expression, “but we’re a bit north of where we ought to be. The main road is that way.”

He raised an arm to point, but I caught it and shifted closer.

“I know.” Lowering my voice, I explained, “I thought it would be good to stop by Cantal’s shrine. It’s on the way, and the spiritual guidance could do us all well.”

I said “us,” but this was for Hohem’s sake.

The plan was formed before we got on the road, but nothing had changed since.

Hohem walked with us, and… that was about it.

He seldom engaged in conversation, even when Luthri was making an ass of himself.

He would respond when asked but didn’t make an effort to share his thoughts as they came.

If not for the fact he rose in the mornings without protest and maintained the pace we set, I might have pushed the issue.

For now, I settled for the infrequent conversation and celebrated every small improvement.

The balance of being supportive without being nosy was not easy to achieve.

As far as whether I managed it or not, the jury was still out.

The shrine was as we remembered it—quaint but well-kept, giving the clearing a homey, sacrosanct feel.

We found Cantal in his garden, harvesting persimmon-like fruits from a vine.

He looked up, eyes narrowing, but the tension in his shoulders disappeared as he realized it was us.

The corners of his eyes and mouth even wrinkled in almost a smile.

He straightened and dusted his hands on his robe as we neared .

“Fair travels?” he asked, tucking his crate of fruits under one arm.

“Ahh… I wish we could say yes.” My hands hunted for something to do as I tried to figure out how to put this. Wishing for pockets, I had to settle for looping my thumbs in my belt.

Cantal didn’t miss a thing. “Hm. You’re missing some folks, you know.”

The nonchalant way he said it opened the wound anew, but he had no way of knowing. I breathed out slowly and acknowledged the hard truth. “Yrra and Daethie are well. They decided to stay out there. As for Vyrain… We lost him. In Munarzed.”

The cleric paused to scrutinize our faces this time. Any trace of humor faded. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said quietly, sounding like he meant it. “He was a good soul.”

I nodded, swallowing down the emotion that threatened.

Why did we come here in the first place?

Prioritize. The words came, eventually. “We wanted to thank you for everything. I especially wanted to express my appreciation for the training. Because of you, I was able to get a proper grasp on mana and changing. Without it, I think… we might have all been lost. As it was, we were overwhelmed. I underestimated the risks involved.”

“ We underestimated the risks,” Luthri cut in, not letting me take the blame alone. A swell of gratitude rose, washing away a bit of the guilt that had piled around the memories.

Cantal waved off our words. “What’s done is done.” His gaze strayed to Hohem. “If it would not be an intrusion or too much of a delay, I would prepare a funeral for your brother. A traditional ceremony for sending loved ones into Hermenia’s care. I can be ready by nightfall.”

Hohem bowed his head. “Tell me how I can help, Opashi .”

Cantal directed us to collect wood and stack it before the statue of Hermenia.

We took great care in choosing dry castoffs so as not to damage any trees.

After a quick supper of salted fish and stewed legumes supplemented by homegrown fruit at our host’s insistence, we gathered around the modest pyre for the ceremony.

First, the opashi knelt on the ground and produced a tuft of tinder.

He muttered a few words of prayer as he arranged it around a small pile of sticks and began to fiddle one against another between his hands.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen someone start a fire the old-fashioned way, but none of us interrupted, sitting with closed mouths and straight backs.

The sun dipped behind the mountains before a spark caught, multiplying quickly into a raw orange flame. The cleric fed it twigs one by one until it was a roaring blaze. Then, clearing his throat, he spoke, the confident tones harmonizing with the crackle of burning wood.