Vulture (23 page)

26 - Belonging

Klavotesi stood outside. The sun beat down on them like it could explode but there wasn’t any heat radiating from it. Cool wind whipped Kaliel’s face and she remembered it got cold on Terra. They had real winters, not the type Avristar experienced. She stormed past him, stifling her disgust at the rotting fleshy bodies scattered along the ground. What Krishani did with them once they were dead was his business. She didn’t want to know more about what he was or what he was doing. She wanted to put as much distance between him and her as she could.

Klavotesi followed her down the path as she scoured the land for signs of the horses. They were the only things left alive in this backwards death-plagued land.

“I take it that did not go well,” Klavotesi said behind her.

She spun on her heel and pushed the hair out of her face. She wanted to cry, scream, curse the land, do something to feel less like she was falling apart but none of that would help. There was only one place she could go, one familiar person left in her life. Pux. She left him with Elwen, something that gnawed at her.

“He doesn’t need me, so we can go back,” Kaliel said, terse, fists balled at her sides. Klavotesi glided along, his footsteps barely making a crunching sound on the gravel the way hers were. He pulled ahead effortlessly and left the path, trailing between two of the mounds. He pulled the horses out from behind the hills. Kaliel was relieved to see the brown mare. She didn’t ask Klavotesi for help as she climbed on top and ruffled out her skirts. She gripped the reins tight, knowing Klavotesi would have to lead them back across the ocean if she ever expected to get back to Tavesin Castle and her best friend.

• • •

It was late afternoon by the time they were on soil she recognized. It was familiar because of the smell, like burnt blades of grass and something foul she couldn’t place. Carnage she assumed, but she didn’t want to think about death anymore. Klavotesi expertly diverted her attention from the choppy black ocean. Even in the midafternoon sun the water was a milky black. She couldn’t even make out rocks near the shore in the shallow part of the water. They spent the afternoon skipping around trees, avoiding main roads, trailing along the river.

Kaliel gazed into the distance at the mountains. There was something out there, something else she didn’t know. She kicked the horse as it stumbled up a steep incline. They stumbled over rocks, zigzagged around bushes, and tumbled into the long, stretching fields outside of Tavesin village. Signs of life showed amidst the grass, a few strands poking out of the burnt ground. Klavotesi told her this was how it was–the land moved in cycles. What died came back in another form.

The way she had.

The gates creaked open as Klavotesi stood, looking regal and taller atop his black stallion. She trotted after him, entering the compound, relieved to see it wasn’t changed. Nothing burned other than the stone fire pit in the blacksmith’s den. Smoke rose out of the chimney and she smiled slightly to herself. It was a warm and welcoming feeling she wasn’t accustomed to in her second life. Someone ran to her, wiping greasy hands on his brown breeches, smiling at her in a way that made his big brown eyes sparkle.

“Kaliel! You’re back!” Pux said, enveloping her in a crushing bear hug. He smelled like a mixture of horse manure, chickens, and swine but she didn’t say anything as she buried her face in his hairy shoulder and let out a breath. He let go and she swayed on her heels, a little weak and tired from riding.

“How’s Krishani?” he asked, peering past her to see that no one else was in her entourage. The gates closed behind her, whining against the pressure of whatever it was keeping them hinged. There was a sour taste in her mouth at the mention of Krishani. She twisted her toe in the dirt and paced away from Pux.

“He’s fine.” She didn’t know where she was going this time. Dinner would begin in the mess hall soon enough. She was famished. She glanced at the doors to the main hall and half thought about confronting Elwen, but Pux laced his arm through hers and led her to the mess hall.

“He didn’t come back with you?” Pux didn’t sound concerned.

Kaliel shook her head. “He still has uh …” she cast around for a way to explain their argument but chickened out. “He has work to do, that’s all.”

Pux slowed down and glanced sideways at her. “And you didn’t stay with him?”

Kaliel shrugged. “There was nothing I could do.” Her voice was monotone. A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed uncomfortably. Pux skipped along the path until they entered the big wooden structure creating the mess hall and sat at a table.

“I’m glad you came back, because now I have a proper dance partner.” He stole a glance at the other villagers trickling into the mess hall. She didn’t know who he was looking for but it must have been someone she didn’t know. She’d only met three of the villagers since she’d been there and a few hundred lived in the village. She recognized a young boy as he emerged from the crowd and sat next to Pux. He wore an off-white camisole and breeches that went too far up his waist. His hair was combed over, and he drummed his fingers on the table.

“You’re back,” he said.

“You remember Jack,” Pux said, gesturing.

Kaliel smiled, remembering him from the one time she saw him in the barn. “Good to see you again.”

“And you,” Jack said politely.

“See? This is a good thing. Now we can take turns dancing with her instead of making fools of ourselves with each other.” Pux nudged Jack in the ribs.

Jack stared at his hands but he perked up. “I call first dance,” he said with a devilish smile that almost mirrored the way Pux could smile.

Kaliel zoned out on their conversation, limbs heavy, heart heavy, head heavy. It took all of her concentration to continue sitting at the table instead of collapsing on the spill underneath, her cheek plastered into whatever grime collected there. Food came and she ate it. Musicians played and she danced with Jack and then Pux and then Jack again. She stopped paying attention when the room was spinning and other arms wound around her–big burly men and frail older men. Women complimented her dark hair and her fair skin. They said she looked beautiful in the burgundy dress. She realized she hadn’t changed and the skirts were too long for her legs, but nobody seemed to care.

It was nighttime when it was over, and as the villagers left the hall she realized she was alone. They went to their homes, and it was her turn to leave but she couldn’t. In the dying embers of the fire she sat there, staring at the little scars on the backs of her borrowed hands. Pux appeared, and Jack turned the corner on the far end of the barn and disappeared the way nobody was going. Pux laced his arm through hers and began walking her back to the watchtower which was now hers … and Krishani’s.

She took a mouthful of the cool night air, her breath fogging up, creating little clouds. She did it again and again, just to watch the cloud of her breath spool towards the sky. Pux joined in, and she didn’t talk because she was too tired. She didn’t stop him when he trailed up the steps after her and began laying out his things on the floor, prepared to sleep with her in the cabin the way he always did.

“Are you okay?” Pux asked once she changed into her nightgown and slid under the covers. Pux hid his face in the animal fur while she did that, but now he stared at her with brown eyes full of questions.

“Everything’s fine,” she lied. She wanted sleep but she didn’t want the dreams that would come with sleep. She longed for more lessons with Klavotesi, something to keep her mind off the growing decay in her chest. She was trying so hard to numb the pain, to convince herself Krishani didn’t mean what he’d said, that she didn’t mean what she’d said. But she couldn’t take it back and he couldn’t take it back, and so it remained true. She felt hollowed out by his words, dark laughter, and sinister expression. There was no denying it anymore. He wasn’t the boy she met on Avristar so many moons ago.

“And Krishani, is he really okay?” Pux pressed.

“He can take care of himself,” she snapped, sitting up and pulling the blankets into a knot.

Pux frowned and looked at his side, fingers trailing along the scar. “Did you heal him?”

Her eyes followed his fingers, and she gulped too much air. It made her lightheaded. Flashes of that night in the forest, the night she waited for Crestaos to come for her, the night she healed Pux all came to her. He was alive because of her. Her eyes went cold on the spot his fingers lingered. It hadn’t worked on Krishani. It erased the red line on his chest but not that black stuff crawling up his arm, staining his perfect body. It was something she couldn’t fix.

And he wouldn’t even tell her what it was.

“I did what I could,” she muttered, looking away from the feorn. “Did you stay here while I was gone?”

Pux shook his head. “I’ve been sleeping in the barn since you left. I only came here because I thought you’d want me.”

Kaliel nodded, but her body felt rigid, her muscles tense. “I think you should go sleep in the barn then. It’s not right for you to sleep here.” Her tone was harsher than she planned.

Pux furrowed his brow like he was hurt, but she didn’t care. “What about your nightmares?”

Kaliel exploded. “I don’t care about my nightmares! It’s not like anyone can make them go away. You can go sleep with the pigs for all I care. We both know it’s where you belong.” And before she knew it she was on her feet, ripping the door open, and Pux was on his feet, shuffling across the floor, looking like a forlorn animal. He crossed the threshold and lifted his head only to meet her angered expression. He moved his head in acknowledgement of her insult and clambered down the stairs, disappearing into the village.

Kaliel shut the door and sank onto the bed. The outburst didn’t make her feel better, but the silence and the fact she didn’t have to talk about what happened with Krishani did help. She nestled herself into the spot on the bed that used to smell like him and cried herself to sleep.

• • •

There was nothing but dead bodies in her dreams. Morgana didn’t come anymore, and Kaliel could only guess why. She watched Krishani leave the village, watched him appear in another village. He was too late again–the villagers were dead. She watched the montage of dreams flicker from one image to the next, night, day, night again, burnt body, flayed body, stabbed body, decapitated body. There were no words for how it made her feel, watching him appear in the villages, completely camouflaged by his cloak, walking with precision, with grace. He knelt at the bodies, closed their eyes, and whispered words she couldn’t understand.

And then he was gone again.

He was leaving the bodies to rot in the streets, letting houses burn to ashes, letting the Horsemen run rampant across the lands. She wondered about the legends of heroes, the things Klavotesi told her about Krishani standing up to Crestaos, facing him, killing him. Krishani used to be honorable, used to be loyal. He used to be a lot of things he wasn’t anymore. The boy who followed death was a shell of his former glory. He was feared, warned against, lethal, relentless.

Kaliel shot up, panting, and hugged her knees to her chest. She couldn’t sleep anymore, couldn’t watch him surround himself with death and forget who he was. She couldn’t breathe with the weight on her chest, a crushing weight that wouldn’t give her freedom. She eased back into the bed and rubbed her hands on her somersaulting stomach. The truth was she was having nightmares again, the same ones that led to bad things happening. Only this time she didn’t have the peaceful summer sky to wake up to. She didn’t have the waterfall, apple orchards, Elmare castle, and the boy who would kiss away all her fears of a land, stars and stars away.

This time Krishani was the nightmare.

And she would wake up alone.

* * *