Soon, my hair was dripping. My boot heels squished through damp soil and patches of flowers brushed my ankles. I bent and fingered a petal the exact shade of Alastair’s ink. A blood poppy.
My heart clenched; we were truly in Aligney.
I never thought I would see this place again or walk this path. I turned toward the village wall. It was just as I remembered it: a monolith of craggy stone pocked with handholds that begged to be climbed. As a child, I was drawn to it. There were so many times I’d press my fingers into that stone and skin my palms as I hauled myself up, until I reached the top, until I could see over
Drops of rain hit my cheeks as my mind skimmed across memory after memory of this place. I squeezed my eyes shut and thought of the rainy nights when I was younger, how Zosa would wiggle under my quilt, squishing between Maman and me, making sure to bury her freezing feet in the crooks of my knees. Stop your squirming, Maman would scold, then clear her throat and begin a tale.
In our little minds, she painted our ancient village in blood-soaked mystery, filling the surrounding farmland with marauders, bone maidens, jade-eyed beasts, and fairy queens I couldn’t wait to meet.
Those stories clung to me. They sparked my desire for more. With those tales in my heart, I would sit atop that stone wall and pretend I could see across the whole world.
My legs quivered as I walked around a patch of mud and into a clearing, half expecting the ground to open up, for a voice to shout, Behold! This is it! Where you belong! Forever! But the only sound was the patter of rain. I’d thought if I could get us here, we’d be safe and everything would right itself. Yet here I was, far worse off than I’d ever been in Durc.
I wrapped my arms around my chest as tears rolled down my cheeks. All I felt was a deep ache for the past, how things used to be, and never would be again. I pictured a younger version of myself now, skipping alongside the stone wall and dragging her sister behind her.
God, I missed Zosa so much.
I’d never asked her if she wanted to return here. If I was honest with myself, I was too afraid to ask. She never spoke of this place like I had. I should have listened to her more, I supposed. But I was too stubborn to pay attention to what she had wanted, and now it was too late.
I lifted a leaf stuck to my boot then plunged my fingers into the ground. I squeezed the wet leaves and expected to feel Aligney in my heart, like I’d felt the objects I turned to maps. Except this place felt no different than Skaadi or Preet.
But it should feel different. This was my home—the only home I knew.
For the past few weeks, all I’d wanted was to crawl inside the memories of this village and live in them. But now they almost felt like someone else’s life—someone I barely recognized anymore. A girl who would have been knocked down and left breathless by everything I’d gone through over the last four years.
And yet, I was still standing, still me. If I was honest with myself, I was probably more me than ever before.
Lifting my chin, I turned toward the dripping trees, the craggy walls circling around me. I’d convinced myself that this was where I belonged because I’d wanted so badly to belong somewhere, to feel safe again. But standing here, I realized that this place wouldn’t make me happy.
This village felt like nothing more than a too-tight shoe cutting at a heel. A little girl’s pink ruffled dress ripping at the seams.
I inhaled deeply. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I wanted more than this. More than the space between these trees. More than the distance from the north stone wall to the south.
I needed more.
On instinct, my fingers dug in my pocket. I sighed with relief when the cool metal of the cosmolabe pressed against my skin, the promise of it.
If a suminaire chose their artéfact based on their soul’s desire, then my soul craved something other than remaining in one place for the rest of my life. Travel, perhaps. Or adventure. But those things seemed impossible now.
More tears sprang up, blurring my vision. I dragged my wet sleeve across my eyes. What I wanted didn’t matter when everyone was trapped and there was nothing I could do to help.
No, that’s not true, I reminded myself fiercely. The third desk drawer on the right was still waiting. Everything that gave Alastair power over us was in that ledger, but I needed the ring first.
A gust of wind snapped me from my thoughts. My sleeves were soaked through and my skirt was quickly on its way. Sido stood huddled in the distance under a tree. I should do the same until the storm passed.
I picked up my wet hem and ran to an archway in the village wall the width of a large doorway. It used to be an entrance, but now it was gated and grown over with weeds. Ducking underneath, I wrung out the hem of my skirt. A branch cracked behind me. I wasn’t alone.