She’d been running from this for so long. She’d done everything she could to shut out the memories of that horrible day, even going so far as to mark her arms with the point of a knife when the emotional pain became too great. She’d fled to Kavora, as far away as she could get from this place, and spent her days wandering the country looking for new ways to distract herself, all so she didn’t have to face this. But here it was, staring her in the face. She’d thought she was ready; it had been more than two years. But it still hurt just as much as the day it all happened.
Saya patted her gently on the back, and eventually, the tears stopped. Kesari raised her head. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
Saya’s warm smile reminded Kesari so much of her mum she almost started crying all over again. Instead, she sighed and stared back up at the tower. It was so different from the building she remembered, but there was something beautiful about the way they’d rebuilt it.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Saya asked.
“I think so.” She’d meant to say no. A part of her still wanted to say no—a lingering, naïve hope that not talking about it would make it go away. But that hadn’t worked so far, and the part of her that had burst free now longed to be heard. Before she could stop herself, the words began to pour out.
“This is why I can’t do magic. I was the one who—” Her voice hitched, and she paused to collect herself before trying again. “I burned down the clocktower.”
It had been summer, a few weeks before her fourteenth birthday and six months after she’d made her Bond with Lucian. The naval ship Rajiv was assigned to came into port that afternoon, and Kesari, Lucian, and Navya had arranged to meet him at the docks. They ate dinner together and had a lovely evening exchanging stories and news before they found themselves strolling through Deveaural’s central square. Kesari complimented Rajiv on his new coat, which had been a gift from his captain after a recent promotion.
“She said I might even make a good captain myself someday,” he said. His eyes sparkled, and his chest puffed out proudly as he peeled the coat off. “Here, Kes. You try it on.”
Navya giggled when Rajiv draped the coat over Kesari’s shoulders. He leaned back with his fingers on his chin to examine her. “Hmm…a little big, I think. But the color suits you.”
Kesari laughed and stuck her arms through the sleeves. They fell past her fingertips and flapped loose around her arms, but the coat smelled of saltwater and the mint leaves Rajiv liked to chew, and Kesari hugged it tight against herself in the cool night air. “It’s a fine coat. I think I’ll hold onto it a while longer.”
“Only if you show me some of the new magic tricks you’ve been practicing,” Rajiv said.
“They’re not tricks,” Lucian sniffed in his proud, crackling voice. “Magic is an art. It takes great skill and practice.”
“Show him the one where you shoot fire,” Navya said, skipping ahead of them with her arms outstretched. “I like that one.”
Kesari nodded and pushed up the sleeves of Rajiv’s coat. “Watch this.”
Several overhead streetlamps lined the square where they were walking, including a few in front of the old clocktower. No harm in helping the lamplighter with his job.
Lucian hovered close to her ear. “This isn’t a good idea. You need more practice, and we shouldn’t be experimenting here.”
“I’ve gotten good,” Kesari argued. “I’ve improved a lot this week. You said so yourself.” She was tired of being treated like a little kid. Her aim was impeccable, her control over her altma honed to perfection. And Rajiv was here, watching her with the same admiration in his eyes that she’d always had for him. When else would she get a chance to show off to her big brother?
Lucian continued to protest. “That doesn’t mean—”
But Kesari had already reached out a hand. She took careful aim, summoned the altma within her, and released the energy exactly as Lucian had taught her, the same way they’d practiced a hundred times at home.
At the time, she hadn’t understood what went wrong, or why. Now she knew it was because she hadn’t really been in control as much as she’d thought she was. The intensity of her excitement had overtaken her, disrupting the connection between mind, body, and soul that was needed to channel altma. Under better circumstances, that might not have been such a catastrophic mistake. But there in the square, with the clocktower right behind the lamp she’d been aiming for, the results had been disastrous.
The fireball that left her hands was larger than any she’d managed to conjure before, and much faster, too. It shot past the streetlamp and went through one of the windows in the lower part of the clocktower, which housed a pub and lodgings for travelers. Within seconds, the magical flames spread to engulf the entire ground level. Kesari could only watch, mouth agape, as the fire grew. Time seemed to warp around her after that, but she could still remember images and sensations in brief flashes.
Rajiv’s voice in her ear, telling her he would be back, that he had to help the people inside.
Navya’s hand gripping hers so tight it felt like her bones were being crushed.
Lucian urging her to move, coming so close to her face that she would have been burned if their Bond hadn’t prevented him from being able to hurt her.
And then there were all the other people—the ones who coughed and choked as they emerged from the smoking tower, the ones who screamed and ran as the structure began to collapse. People covered in burns dragging disfigured corpses from the wreckage, their grief-stricken wails echoing into the night and ringing endlessly in Kesari’s ears.
Navya tugged on her arm and tried to tell her something, but it wasn’t until a fleeing man knocked her down that she was jolted back into reality. She scooped her little sister into her arms and ran, following a group of panicked survivors until they stopped near the palace gates.
Navya began to cry, her tiny voice full of terror. “Where’s Rajiv, Kes? He said to wait for him. We have to go back and find him!”
Kesari turned to go back, but Lucian darted in front of her. “No, I’ll go. You stay here with Navya.”
Too exhausted to argue, or perhaps too afraid and guilt-ridden to face the damage she’d done, Kesari sat next to her sister to wait. People came out of their homes in droves with food, water, and medical supplies to help the survivors. An old woman stopped to examine Kesari and Navya for injuries. They were both covered in ash and grime but otherwise unharmed, and the old woman simply clicked her tongue, pronounced them both extremely lucky, and continued on to help the next person.
By the time Lucian returned, Navya had cried herself to sleep in Kesari’s arms. The Spirit Tarja’s face was expressionless as he floated forward. Kesari’s heart caved in on itself. Rajiv was gone. She knew it before Lucian even said the words.
She rocked her sister’s tiny body back and forth in rhythm with her own sobs. Tears streaked down her face and fell into Navya’s black curls, but the girl never stirred. People were starting to stare at the pair of them, two young girls alone in the streets at night with a magical flame. They couldn’t stay here long before someone started asking questions—questions Kesari wasn’t even sure how to answer. She stood, hoisted Navya onto her back, and carried her home in the dark.
By the time they arrived, she’d made a decision. It was late, but light still illuminated the windows of their small cottage. No doubt Mum had stayed up waiting for them while Dad went out to look for them himself. The ache in Kesari’s chest deepened as she crouched behind some trees at the edge of their property and gently set Navya down.
She reached forward to wake her sister, then stopped herself. Navya was only ten years old, but they were home, and she’d be safe for now. Besides, what could she say that wouldn’t be awful and cruel and too big a burden for Navya to handle? Better to let her sleep a while longer, have a few last minutes of peace where her world wasn’t shattered and she still had two older siblings who love
d her. Better to leave without saying anything at all.
And so, that was exactly what she did.
Kesari told Saya everything in a rush, afraid of the judgment she might see in the older girl’s eyes if she stopped. She had to pause a few times to keep her emotions under control, and even then, a few tears slipped out. “I killed all those people,” she said at last, nodding to the fifty-three names on the pedestal. “I killed my own brother.”
It was the first time she’d said it out loud to another person, and somehow, that made it more real. She’d always known she was responsible for what had happened, of course, but even in her darkest nightmares, she shared that blame with someone or something else. It was Lucian’s fault, too, she told herself. It was just the unstable nature of the magic itself. Sometimes, in her lowest moments, she even pretended it was Rajiv’s fault. He’d had no business asking her to do magic tricks for his own entertainment.
Anything to shift the blame somewhere else, to make it so it didn’t feel like a knife twisting inside her heart every time she so much as thought about using magic.
“You ran away,” Saya said.
Kesari looked at her, ready to come to her own defense. But there was no judgment in Saya’s voice, and her eyes were neither scolding nor pitying.
“I couldn’t face my family,” she said. “I left and never looked back, so being here now is—” She paused, unsure how to describe the torrent of emotions within her. Part of her was happy to be home. She’d missed this city almost as much as she still missed her family. But she was also terrified. She longed for her parents’ embrace while simultaneously dreading the accusatory looks they would have for the person who’d killed their only son.
She sighed. “I’ve been running away so long I’m not sure I know how to do anything else.”
“I’m sure your family misses you,” Saya said.
Kesari shook her head. “Navya would have told them what happened. They must hate me.”
“Navya would have told them it was an accident,” Lucian said. “Because that’s what it was. It was awful and tragic, and of course your parents must have mourned Rajiv, but it was an accident. And they’ve been mourning you, too. They don’t even know that you’re safe, or alive.”
They’d had this exact conversation more times than Kesari could remember, but for some reason, sitting here in front of the clocktower and her dead brother’s name, the words sunk in with a deeper kind of clarity. She nodded and let out a shaky breath. “I need to go home. I know I do. But what am I supposed to say to them?”
“The right words will come when you get there,” Saya replied. She put a hand on Kesari’s arm. “And you don’t have to go alone.”
Kesari cast a glance at Lucian. “I know.”
“I think she’s saying she’ll come with us,” he said.
“Oh.” She turned back to Saya and blinked. “Thank you. I admit, I’d be grateful for the company.”
“It would be my honor.”
Kesari stood on legs that felt suddenly shaky. “I guess we should go now, before I lose my nerve.” She looked down at the basket full of food. “But Jameson’s dinner! Maybe we should take these things back first.”
“Nonsense,” said Lucian. “You can bring it home to your family and help your mother make dinner. I’m sure they’d appreciate that.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Saya said.
“But I bought this with our money. We all chipped in. And won’t Amar and Mitul be irritated that we didn’t come back?”
“Don’t worry about the money,” Saya replied, stooping to pick up the basket. “You’ve more than earned this, bringing us all the way here. And Amar and Mitul will be perfectly fine on their own for a while. Come on.”
Kesari remained frozen. It was hard to believe this was actually happening after all the times she’d put it off. Was it really what she wanted? She still wasn’t sure, but she knew it was what she needed. She couldn’t keep running forever.
“It’s going to be all right, Kes,” Lucian said gently. “And even if it’s not, you’re not alone.”
She nodded, and with a deep breath, she forced herself to take her first, hesitant step toward home.
The second step came a little easier after that.
“This is it,” Kesari said when they at last came into view of her childhood home. It was a small cottage Dad had built himself, nestled in Deveaural’s countryside and surrounded by wildflowers of every color. Mum could make anything grow, and her vegetable garden was already lush and green on the east side of the house. Kesari’s mouth watered at the memory of fresh peas and spicy peppers, but her stomach was still lurching with the anxiety of what she was about to face.
“It’s lovely,” Saya said.
Kesari took a breath and forced herself to continue on through the grassy field that separated her from her family. Her legs wobbled, like all the bones within them had turned to dust, but she wouldn’t turn back now.
The door of the house opened as they reached the edge of the wildflowers, and a slight Kavoran woman with a long, thick braid stepped outside. Kesari’s breath caught as her mum raised a hand to shield her eyes so she could get a better look at the approaching visitors. She stared, saying nothing, and the seconds dragged on like years. Kesari’s heart thrummed against her ribcage. Maybe coming here hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
Then the woman called out her name, her voice as warm and familiar as the folds of Rajiv’s coat against her skin. “Kesari?”
She looked at Lucian. He offered a reassuring smile, and she raised a hand in greeting.
Mum dropped the basket she’d been carrying, hitched up her skirt, and began to run through the tall grass. “Kesari! Kesari!” She was half crying, half laughing, and when she pulled her daughter into her arms, warm tears smeared across Kesari’s face.
She melted into the embrace, inhaling the scent of fresh-baked bread, wet earth, and cinnamon. Her body trembled from the effort of trying to hold back her emotions, and after a few seconds, she let it all out in a tear-soaked sob.
Mum stepped back to get a good look at her, taking Kesari’s face in both of her hands. “Oh, my sweet girl. Is it really you?”
“It’s me, Mum,” Kesari mumbled around the knot in her throat. “I’m home.”
Two new figures approached from the cottage, a square-shouldered man with pale skin and a wiry teenage girl. Dad and Navya. They both seemed hesitant, their identical dazed expressions making the resemblances between them even more apparent.
Kesari’s mum, still beaming with joy, looped one arm through hers and led her to the other half of their family. Everything around them seemed to fade, but they stood out in sharp focus, so familiar and yet so changed by the years that had passed since Kesari left.
Navya had grown, no longer the little girl she’d carried home on her back the night of the fire. At twelve, she was nearly as tall as Kesari now, and the childish innocence in her dark eyes had been replaced by a steely hardness. She didn’t return Kesari’s smile. Her arms stayed crossed, her entire body as rigid as a knife.
Dad had blinked away the daze in his eyes by the time Kesari reached him. His ruddy cheeks were more weathered than she remembered, and he cast a look at Lucian that was difficult to interpret. He’d always been superstitious about magic and hadn’t ever settled with the idea that his daughter had Bonded to a Spirit Tarja. For a single, heart-stopping moment, Kesari feared he would send them both away.
But then his eyes flitted back to her face, and the corners of his mouth lifted beneath his thick, copper beard. He pulled Kesari into a tight hug, his voice rough against her hair.
“Welcome home, Kes.”
27
Aleida
Nearly a month after saying goodbye to Tyrus in Chatanda, Aleida and Valkyra finally rode into Malfram and immediately began inquiring after Jameson Weatherford. It didn’t take long to learn that he’d relocated to Deveaural, and no one they talked to seemed to kn
ow anything about Amar or his friends. Aleida tried not to think too much about how long ago they might have been here. She had to keep going, even if the trail had all but gone cold. What other choice did she have?
“If Jameson Weatherford is in Deveaural, then that’s where Amar will have gone, too,” Valkyra said as they took to the road again. “We’ll find them, dear. Don’t get discouraged.”
“I’m not discouraged,” Aleida shot back.
“Good. I’m glad.”
She sighed. It wasn’t Valkyra’s fault Jameson had moved, nor was the dragon responsible for any of these delays. She’d been the only one Aleida could consistently rely on through all of this, and she didn’t deserve to be the target of her wrath. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just frustrated.”
“That’s understandable.”
Aleida chewed her bottom lip and nudged the horse into a trot. The same repetitive questions swirled around her mind like a whirlpool. What would all these delays cost her? What if she couldn’t find Amar in time to save Tyrus? What if she did find him, but couldn’t make it back to her brother in time?
A part of her wanted to ask Valkyra, who always seemed so wise and would probably know exactly what to say. But she was afraid. There were no good answers to questions like these, and certainly no easy ones.
Instead, she sent out a silent prayer to the Artist. Please, Artex, help me save Tyrus. Watch over my journey and intervene on my behalf where you can. I’m doing everything I’m capable of, but it’s not enough. I need your grace.
She couldn’t bring herself to add the caveat that typically went with such prayers—if it be your will. Surely the caring, benevolent Artex wanted her brother to live as much as she did. She had to believe that, or what was the point of having faith in a higher power at all?
She rode on, alternating her horse’s pace between a gallop and a walk. Stars blinked into view overhead, and finally, at Valkyra’s warning that their mount needed to rest, Aleida stopped for the night. She set about making camp while Valkyra went hunting for fresh meat, and she’d just gotten a fire going when the rustle of wings overhead caught her attention.
Tethered Spirits Page 24
