The Fire Sisters (Brilliant Darkness 3) (9 page)

But

I

fall.

“Gotcha,” Moray says.

I lean against him, gulping great breaths of air and sputtering.

Peree clatters onto the bridge next to us a few moments later. He takes my hand and we speed along the bridge behind Moray, then side step—quick and careful—along the rock trail cut into this wall. I focus only on getting back on solid ground.

And finally, we are.

My feet sink into damp, slippery soil as we scurry uphill, away from the bridge, the trail, the storm, and the Restless, to the relative shelter of what feels like a tightly knit grouping of trees. Branches poke me in the back, while rain batters leaves overhead. The others, smelling of wet clothes and relief, crowd around the three of us.

Moray thumps me on the shoulder. “There now, that wasn’t so bad, was it, sweetheart?”

I dump my pack and throw my arms around him, hugging him hard. If I say a word, I’ll burst into ugly tears. He laughs, sounding embarrassed, and pats me on the back. The trembling finally slows.

Amarina passes around a little bread and a handful of dense mushrooms she found. They’re small, a little slimy, and entirely unlike mushrooms I’ve eaten at home, but the nutty flavor isn’t bad. She assures us they’re edible.

As we eat, Moray and Cuda tease me about the look on my face when I realized I was falling, recreating it over and over for the amusement of the others. I don’t mind this time. Moray saved my life—again. The least I can do is allow him an unfettered laugh for his troubles.

He's hailed for rescuing me, and I’m praised for my quick response in helping Kai. Everyone has a little something nice to say. Everyone 
except
 Kai, that is. Whatever.

“Those slats weren’t rotted,” she says, cutting off the laughter. “I tested every one before I put my weight on them. The middle ones felt as solid as the first few. But they broke in two when I stepped on them.”

Someone must keep up the bridge, like Amarina said. Wouldn’t they notice rotted slats? 
Unless
…

“Maybe the Sisters tampered with them,” I say. “In case their warning to me didn’t work.”

“Damn,” Peree says. “They could have.”

A few cracked, almost-broken slats wouldn’t be easily spotted, especially in a rainstorm, and they could be replaced later. The Sisters could get rid of a few of us, with little fuss for themselves.

My blood churns. First the sting, now this. The search is getting more dangerous by the hour.

The thunder and lightning let up a bit, but the rain drives into my face like the sky has a special plan to drown me. I’m drenched and freezing again within minutes, and from the chattering of teeth all around me, so is everyone else. We're in the same close grouping, but this time, I don’t mind being in the middle. It’s a little warmer with all the bodies around me.

Kai leads us to a path that continues to follow the Restless, but the river sounds a little farther away, and it runs on our right side instead of our left now. It also sounds calmer since it went through the gorge under the bridge. Maybe it widened out again. Kai doesn’t say if she remembered this path being here or what. She hasn’t said much of anything since Peree and I helped her, except her observation about the slats.

This path is more open, allowing us to move much faster. Only the occasional rock or divot threatens to topple me. I still use my walking stick, but I could probably do without it for once. That’s the good news.

The bad news,
other
than the stinging rain, dreary cold, and growing mud, is that the hills are far from finished with us. We climb up and down them with a burning, aching relentlessness, until the path parts ways with the river all together, venturing into the forest.

There’s a hush among the trees, broken only by the rain rapping on the canopy overhead. My mind turns to poor Kora and the other children again and again as we slog on. How are
they
coping with the weather and the difficult terrain? And what about pregnant Frost? I’m worried we won’t catch the Sisters before they get to the Cloister. What will we do then? Storm the home of a group of cunning, seasoned fighters?

Apparently, everyone’s thinking the same thing, because we don’t rest or even slow for hours, and no one complains. I’m so mired in my drenched, dismal thoughts that I almost don’t notice when we stop. It’s hard to tell what time it is between the trees and the gloom—late afternoon?

“What are we doing?” I ask.

“There might be a cave where we can take a breather,” Bear says from behind me. “Peree and Kai are checking it out.”

“A cave? In the middle of the forest?”

“We’ve been walking next to a low, rocky ridge for a while now. There’s a dark hole in the side of the rock over there, close to the ground. Might be an entrance.”

I had no idea a ridge ran beside us, much less a possible cave. We could be cruising through the Cloister right now for all I know.

I shrug my pack off and roll my neck, then lift my shoulders, one at a time. The others shift around, too, groaning as if they’re stretching. We probably shouldn’t stop here—who knows how hard the Sisters are driving the children ahead of us—but a rest beside a fire in a dry cave is too tempting to pass up. When the rain stops, we can press on.

Peree and Kai’s feet shuffle along the wet ground as they return.

“We couldn’t see to the back without a torch, but it seems big enough for all of us,” Peree reports.

“Let’s go,” Cuda quickly says.

The group hustles me off the path to the left. Small rivulets of rain spill onto my head and splash in my face as we brush by low branches. We stop again, and Peree takes my hand.

“You have to duck to get in. Watch your head when you stand; the roof of the cave isn't high.” He leads me forward.

Bending low, I scuttle inside and cautiously straighten. I can stand, but reaching up, the roof is only a hand-length or two above my head. The cave is pitch black and smells stale and dusty, but it’s blessedly dry. I take a few steps inside, giving the others a chance to enter.

“We need torches,” Bear says. “I can’t see a thing.”

“Good luck finding anything dry to burn out there.” Conda sounds weary.

Maybe there’s something in
here
to burn. From the close echoes of our voices, I’d guess the cave isn’t super spacious. Hands outstretched, I move to the left, feeling for a wall. Sure enough, after only seven paces, I find it. There’s a sense of coming home when my fingers meet the rock. I spent years of my life in caves and caverns, provisioning them to help my people survive when the Scourge came.

I suddenly breathe easier. Caves have boundaries, features to orient me. I know and understand the dangers here, unlike an unfamiliar forest.

Trailing my hand along the wall,
I head toward the back of the cave, mapping
 the contours and dimensions in my head, as I used to. Small stones or an occasional good-sized rock move under my feet here and there, but I don’t come across anything that can be burned until my feet tangle in something soft, almost stretchy.

I kneel down and pat around. It’s a length of worn cloth, rough and dusty. Under the cloth, there are sticks of wood. I tug on one until I free it. I open my mouth to tell the others I found a stash of wood or kindling, but I hesitate.

About the length of my forearm, the stick 
doesn’t have the same weight or density as wood. And it's
 too smooth, unless it’s been stripped. Plus, the ends are rounded, like a bone. Only, it’s too long and thick to be anything but…

Human
.

I drop the thing and fall back with a disgusted cry.

“Fenn? What is it?” Peree calls.

“A body, I think.”

I grimace and rub my hand vigorously on my dress, 
while he stumbles through the dark toward me.
 At least the bone couldn't possibly be fresh. It felt clean, and there’s no smell.

Peree makes it back to where I am, and we stagger into each other. From the rustlings coming toward us, the others are trying to follow him back.

“What is it?” Amarina's voice bounces back to us from near the entrance. Bear fills her in. “I found dry branches under a rock overhang. Give me a moment to start a fire so we can see.”

I wish I had her composure. My skin is prickling as if ants suddenly dropped from the ceiling, covering me. The fire snaps and hisses to life behind us. As it grows, the glow creeps in front of us.

“It’s a person, isn’t it?” I whisper.

Peree squeezes my shoulder.

“Can you… tell anything about the body?”

“It’s been here a while. No flesh.”

I shudder.

“It’s a man,” Kai says. “Or a tall woman. Big feet.”

“I think a man,” Derain says.

Who was he, and where did he come from? Where was he going and why? Was he out here alone, or was he with a group who left him behind? Did he die from old age, illness, injuries, or an accident? Was he killed? His bones are like the words in the books Kadee showed me. They would tell his story if we could only read them.

“We should bury him,” I say.

“Go right ahead,” Cuda says.

I drop my pack at my feet and dig down in it until I find my blanket. It’s going to be cold at night without it, but this was a person. He deserves a better resting place than lying exposed and abandoned in the back of a cave.

“I will help,” Amarina says.

Peree and she help me move the body from the ground onto the blanket. The bones rattle against each other and dust—please, let it only be dust—rises into my nose and mouth. I try not to think about what we’re doing, only that it needs to be done.

Amarina and I each take a corner of the blanket, leaving Peree the other end. I run a hand along the wall as we carry the man outside. The rain still sheets against us.

Outside, she chooses a spot for the grave, and we lower the blanket carefully to the ground. Peree finds a stout, sharp branch for us to dig in the damp earth. It takes time, and I spend it thinking of my brother.

Did anyone bury Eland? Surely, Calli and her parents, Fox and Acacia, would have. Surely, they cried for him. I cried enough to drown whole worlds. I cry a little more now, wishing I could have been there to minister to my brother’s body, the way I should have. A sob chokes me as I dig, and Peree rests a comforting hand on my back. He understands. Amarina, to her credit, doesn’t pry.

When the grave is deep enough, we lower the blanket and the body into it, then cover it with the displaced earth. I pat the soil into place. Odd as it is, I’m reminded of being in the garden, planting seeds that will grow and thrive. As I stand, Amarina takes one of my mud-slicked hands, and Peree takes the other. We bear witness to the passing of a stranger.

The rain doesn’t lessen. The forest doesn’t lighten. The world around me is the same. Yet, somehow, I feel lighter on my feet as we make our way back inside, where wood smoke tickles my nose. The fire crackles steadily, scattering warmth and light around the cave.

I walk to the back to find my discarded pack and pull out a cloth to dry my hair and skin. Time beside the fire will take care of my dress and thaw my numb hands and feet.

Peree comes to me, pulling me into a shadow, beyond the reach of the firelight. He kisses me. We haven’t shared a real kiss in days. Like honey on the tongue when it’s accustomed to salt or bitter, the scarcity compounds the sweetness.

“A few of us are going back out to set some snares and do a little hunting,” he says after a while.

I pull back. “Oh. Kai, too?”

The words fly unbidden from my mouth. So what if she's going? The more to hunt and trap, the better, because we need food. Rabbits, squirrels, and birds aren’t going to waltz into the cave, presenting themselves to be skinned, skewered, and roasted.

“Yes, Kai. And Bear.”

I have to wrangle my lips into a smile; it refuses to come naturally. “Be careful.”

He takes my hand in his, turns it upside down, smooths my dirty fingers out flat, and presses them to his chest. Under the skin, muscle, and bone, his heart beats a robust rhythm.

“You’re the only one in here, you know,” he says.

I lay my cheek beside my hand, breathing in the impossibly sweet scent of his skin. I know I am, and I know how fortunate that makes me. I think about the man whose body we laid to rest. Was there a woman he carried in his heart before he died? Did she know it? Did she feel the same? Life is too short to be jealous or petty.

“Go,” I say. “Hunt well.”

His tongue skims my lips as he kisses me again. Slowly, he traces the carved bird at my neck with one finger, sending shivers straight down into my knees. I’m a candle desperately trying not to melt.

“Coming, Peree?” Bear asks from a few feet away.

I jerk back, always worried about showing affection for Peree around my old friend. Which is ludicrous, I know. We were about to
partner
before the Fire Sisters ruined everything. I guess it’s habit, now. I just don’t want to hurt Bear. At least his voice sounds full and round again, not sullen or vacant like it did sometimes after I told him I wouldn’t bond with him.

Gathering myself, I pick up my pack and walking stick, following Peree and Bear’s voices back toward the entrance. The cave really isn’t that big, maybe twenty paces from side to side, and thirty or so to the back, where I found the man's body. But it's big enough to give us shelter for a little while.

The rock amplifies sounds inside, but it seems to swallow most of the noise from outside; I can barely hear the rain striking the ground. Three sets of footsteps echo and then disappear as Peree, Bear, and Kai leave.

Derain’s rumble and Amarina’s high birdsong lead me over to the fire. Moray and his brothers talk in low voices somewhere on the other side of the flames.