I knew it would be this way. I knew it would taint him, change him.
But seeing the look on Azmar’s face—the look of terror, the same across all the gods’ creatures—made it real. Tangible. Engulfing.
I wish I hadn’t come.
I wish I hadn’t seen it.
I wish Unach had left me at the bottom of the canyon.
Chapter 29
I’m leaving.
After two days of forced rest and heavy misery, the choice is easy. I cannot stay in Cagmar, despite all the hopes I’d pinned to it. I cannot be where Azmar is and not have him. I cannot heal with the reminder of what I’ve lost waiting at the end of every corridor, around every turn, within every wall. Even in my little apartment, he haunts me. Once, he sat on my floor, guarding me from Grodd. Now he would not stand in the same room as me. I don’t even have the excuse of pregnancy to tie him to me; my bleeding came, signaling the finality of it all.
Neither Azmar nor Unach has sought me out these past forty-eight hours, which only cements my sorrow. I have been utterly alone, save for a visit from Ritha, who misread my pain and increased my dosage of herbs. I swallowed all of them.
I rise from bed, feeling like a toddler just learning to walk. I am not entirely hopeless. Tayler mentioned crag snakes, and I have a general idea of where they nest. If I can find the crag snakes, I can find Tayler’s township, and I’ll be able to make a new home. Perhaps meet the Cosmodian and apprentice to her. I still have Ritha’s seeds as an offering. And if they turn me away, or I’m mistaken in Tayler’s location . . . I could strike out on my own, now that I know how the trollis eat. Stay near the canyon and garden, as they do. Or wander into the cooler parts of the mountains. Try to find water.
I’ll need to be careful. I don’t dare use my abilities should a creature of any sort decide to harm me. Not yet. My body has recuperated well, but I can feel in my bones that it isn’t yet prepared to channel the fear my mother gave me. I cannot leave Cagmar with a blade, but I could fashion a sling. I’ve grown decent at using one, and I’ll have plenty of time to practice.
Maybe I can coax double rations from the market, for the time I was away. Two weeks’ food would be adequate. I know my father’s map. I know how far I need to go. I only have to follow the canyon north.
I mournfully pack my few belongings, placing them into the bag the council gave me when they sent me into the desert. The one I had when I arrived is in Azmar’s apartment, and I cannot bear to visit. If Azmar has returned home, he will not want me there. I cannot see fear on his beautiful face again. My last few fibers will snap if I do, and I must preserve what little, pathetic strength I have left.
I will survive this, somehow. I always survive, one way or another.
I stand in my room, surveying its stone walls, hugging warmth into myself. It’s as though I never lived here, slept here. Yet I am very much like this chamber, empty, waiting to be filled.
I touch the lock on my door and blink back tears. I listen to my breathing and hum songs to myself. I leave my bag and slip into the corridor. I have a few goodbyes to attend to before I depart.
I go first to the human enclave. Ritha is unsurprised to hear that I’ll be leaving. I invite her to join me, but she declines. “I have a place here. An important place here,” she explains with an air of sadness. “Sasha is pregnant. Who will help her if I leave?”
I understand, of course. Colson is at work in the mines, but I’m able to greet Wiln and Etewen. We never were very close, so my leaving is easy, for them.
I’m on my way to Nethens housing when I catch Perg in the hallway outside military training. I call out to him, relieved to see him well, and wait for half a dozen trollis to pass before crossing to him.
“Lark! You’re alive!” He grins.
I hug him, which startles him, but he embraces me back, releasing me quickly when a Centra swoops by. “I was going to say the same to you.” I study him. “You seem well.”
He shrugs, then winces. “A few injuries still. Old and new.”
I gesture for him to follow me and guide him into a narrower, less crowded passageway. “Perg, I’m leaving.”
His face falls. “You just got back.”
A draining sensation tugs at my chest. Knitting my hands together, I ignore it. “I . . . I have to. I can’t really explain, but there’s a township I want to find. A human township. The one with the half trollis I told you about.”
His features round. “What?”
“Baten, remember?” I place a hand on his. “He’s accepted there, Perg. He’s only a few years younger than you.” I squeeze his fingers. “Perg, come with me.”