Page 137 of What Blooms in Barren Lands

Dave and Kevin managed to hoist Einar into the back seat, even as he implored them not to. The fact that they could make him do something he was set firmly against was in itself a shocking display of his fading strength that rattled me to my core. So did his utterly tormented expression at the slightest movement, his eyes squeezed shut so tightly that a web of previously unseen lines appeared around them. As we drove on, slowly, his head rested on my lap next to my immense belly, and he lamented the whole way, turning his head from side to side in a wordless protest, oblivious to my hand on his sweaty forehead. I was barely aware of the time passing, engaged as I was in a desperate entreaty, not directed towards anyone in particular.

Let him live, let him live, please just let him live ...

I only became mindful of my surroundings as it suddenly got much lighter, and the solid walls of the tunnel turned once again into mere supporting pillars on both sides. There were fewer and fewer obstacles in our way. That was good because it hurt Einar terribly when Dave had to come to a stop to push wrecked vehicles out of our way. It hurt him terribly to keep going, too, every little bump on the road making him groan with a desperation that hacked deep into my heart each time. We finally came out at the other end of St Bernard, the shadowy Mount Mort rising behind us and a brilliantly green valley in front of us.

The sun had come out whilst we were inside, and the world looked bright.

How dared it?

Indifferent fields and meadows rolled by, overgrown with cheerful, blooming weeds, the foliage mocking me with its blossoms.

“We will make it to the hospital and then everything will be alright,” I kept muttering over and over, my eyes closed asI was unable to bear the sight of Einar’s suffering anymore. “Everythingwillbe alright.”

“I heard you the first ten times, sweetheart,” said a voice below me so weak that it may well have been just a phantom echo of the voice I knew so well.

I looked down with a gasp. Einar’s glacial eyes, previously misty with frantic unawareness of all but pain, were gazing at me with startling clarity.

“H-Hey.”

“Hey, trouble.”

I almost could have laughed.

“Kev, stop here,” Einar said in a voice that yet carried traces of his commanding self.

Dave turned sharply, brown eyes boring into Einar’s arctic ones.

“Einar, mate ...” He wanted to protest, but Einar shook his head in a compact yet perceptible motion.

His blood was beginning to seep through the tight bandages that enveloped his torso, but when he saw me looking at the wound, no doubt with fright in my eyes, he covered the area with his palms with no more than a wince of pain.

“Stop the car,” he said again. His tone was its uncompromising self once more, and I had not known true fear until I heard his words. “Stop the car and help me out.”

Seeing Dave’s nod, as curt as it was resigned, Kevin drove off the main road and parked by a stately oak with a wide crown of budding emerald-green leaves. This time, Einar was almost silent as they dragged him, huffing, to lay him on the soft, spring grass underneath the ancient tree.

“Beautiful view,” he said with his head propped up, indicating the snow-capped mountains surrounding the valley from all sides. “Though not nearly as beautiful as you, my girl.”

Snivelling, I scoffed, shaking my head.

“Ever the flatterer,” I told him.

Dave offered Einar a jacket, but the latter refused, and we were left alone. Dave and Kevin had retreated to the car to grant us privacy. I knelt by my husband, placing my hands on his chest. He was chilly to the touch, but there were no goosebumps on his skin. Impervious to cold as ever. I felt his heartbeat underneath my fingertips, its rhythm slow but still steady.

How long did we have until it wouldn’t be?

“Oh, Ren, love, please don’t. You know what it does to me to see you cry,” Einar begged me, his brow creased.

He raised his hand to wipe my tears with what seemed an immense effort. Then he laid it on my swollen belly, reassuringly solid, and my chest constricted painfully at his touch.

“I have to let you in on something,” Einar said lightly, but there was an edge to his voice, a hidden plea for me to comply. “Your birthday’s coming up, and I haven’t come up with a single idea for a gift for you.”

The fingers of his other hand pushed strands of hair from my forehead, slowly but reverently, as if he wanted to prolong and savour the touch, despite struggling to keep his arm lifted.

“I-I don’t need g-gifts.” Swallowing hard, I muted the sobs that threatened to claw at my throat. “I need you.”

His face was ghastly pale, full of new shadows and angles, but the warm smile reached his eyes nonetheless. The valley around us was very still, as if holding its breath, and the crisply clean air was full of deceit with its promise of new life. I knew then that I would forevermore despise the smell of spring.

“You’ve already given me something I thought possible only in books.” I ran my own fingers along Einar’s face, tracing the sharp cheekbones, the strong jaw. “A mutual obsession rather than a relationship. No one has ever matched the intensity of what I wanted, of what I carried inside. Until you came along.” I willed my voice to keep steady, to say that which could not be leftunsaid. “It was like breaking free after a lifetime of captivity. And it was only with you next to me, with you above and inside of me, that life has ever made sense. All the horror in this world, all the arbitrary suffering and meaningless boredom. To haveyou, to be withyou, made all of it finally worth it.”