19. Kayan

NINETEEN

It is late. Finn disappeared earlier this morning, and Alana is now alone in her tent. When I appear at her side, it’s as if she was expecting me.

“Will your light wake the others?” she says, sitting up on her elbows.

I smile and shake my head. “They cannot see it unless I want them to. And, right now, I am only sharing it with you.”

Tucking the blanket up under her chin, she smiles at me. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”

I sit down, too, crossing my legs. “You’ve been thinking about what I said?” I tilt my head, waiting for her to answer me.

Alana frowns a little. “When you told me not to trust anyone?” Her tone is tight and a little annoyed.

“I didn’t say that,” I reply. I couldn’t say that even if I wanted to.

“Sorry, my mistake. You gave me a cryptic message about listening to what they say. But you didn’t tell me who they are or what I’m supposed to be listening for.”

I sigh a little. Like this, every emotion I have feels like the whisper of an emotion. A memory. Not really there. “If I could tell you more, Alana –”

“I have it under control,” she replies firmly. “And that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“It’s not?”

She shakes her head and tucks a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. “I wanted to talk to you about Rosalie.”

At the mention of Rosalie’s name, my breath catches in my chest. The feelings I have for her are stronger than whispers, but not strong enough to be spoken words.

“I’ve been thinking about her a lot since you returned, wondering if she’s okay.” Alana rubs her arms as if she’s cold. I pass her another blanket and she looks bemused, like she didn’t expect me to be able to pick anything up.

“Water molecules in the air,” I mutter quickly.

Alana nods. “I see.” She pulls the second blanket on top of her and shivers. Despite it being warm during the day, the temperature out here in the forest drops drastically in the middle of the night. “She doesn’t even know what happened to you.” Alana meets my eyes. “She loved you, and she doesn’t know you’re dead.”

I take a deep breath – a habit, not a necessity – and watch as some small blue flickers of energy dance across the surface of my hands. “I think about her too. More than I probably should.”

“She was your girlfriend, Kayan. You can think about her all you like.” Alana smiles at me, and it reminds me of how things used to be. After a moment’s quiet, Alana says quietly, “When did you fall for her?”

I study my hands, watching the blue lights. I know the exact moment; it was when Rosalie accidentally set fire to a bush because she was angry with her younger sister for borrowing her clothes, and was stomping around the wood throwing fireballs. This particular one, she didn’t extinguish in time, and it hit a nearby bush, sending the whole lot up. She was frantically trying to put it out when I found her. I had no water magic then, because it was after Alana had taken it from me, so I rushed to the lake and came back with a bucket of water. Then another. It took a long time, but we finally put out the fire.

Rosalie cried in my arms. She felt useless because she couldn’t put the flames out, even though she’d started them. Then she felt horribly guilty for crying about her poor control of magic when I had none.

We kissed.

And after that, she was mine and I was hers.

But I don’t tell Alana this story. It feels too special. Too private. “It was after you and I...” I search for the right phrasing, but Alana nods her understanding, so I don’t have to speak it out loud. “We missed you. Samuel was gone. You became a recluse. It was just me and Rosalie, when it used to be the four of us. Somewhere along the way, we just...” I shrug.

Alana smiles. “I’m glad you had each other.” She reaches out, but her hand passes through mine in a shimmering play of light. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you both. I’m sorry I sealed myself away. I was scared, and I felt so guilty, and I was sure you both hated me.”

“I could never hate you, and neither could Rosalie. We’re your friends.”

“She might hate me now.” Alana sighs and pulls a pillow into her lap, hugging it tight against her chest. “It’s my fault you lost your life.”

“No,” I say firmly. “It is my fault. I chose to try to break out of the cellar. I killed the guard. You had nothing to do with that, Alana.”

“I was the reason we were there. Eldrion wanted me all along.”

I wish I could take hold of her hand and squeeze it so she truly knows I do not blame her for what happened. I could never blame her.

“When all this is done,” she says, a familiar note of determination in her voice, “we’ll find Rosalie. She’s not dead. I know it. We’ll find her and bring her home.”

“We?” I smile slowly.

“You won’t be here?” Alana frowns.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. When all this is done, I will have to leave again.”

“What will it look like when it is done? Do you know? Do you think we will succeed in taking down Eldrion?”

I want to answer her, but I can’t.

Sighing, Alana combs her hands through her long red hair. “Do you remember when Samuel died?” she asks.

This question is unexpected.

“Of course.”

“I think I took away my mother’s pain.” She meets my eyes.

“I know you did. I knew it then, but you refused to speak of it.” I close my eyes and allow myself to drift back to the day of Samuel’s funeral.

The night air was cool, and the warmth of the floating funeral pyre had long since faded. Rosalie and I followed Alana down to the shore. We had waited with her all afternoon, watching her mother from a distance as she stood by the lake, staring.

Farrow, Alana’s father, stayed a while. But then he kissed his wife and left.

Others filtered away, too. And Magdalena was left alone...

The funeral raft is a dark, floating shadow on the surface of the lake. The last embers have long since faded, but Magdalena still stands at the water’s edge. Her silhouette looks broken, and the sight makes my heart hurt.

I miss Samuel already, but he was not my kin. Alana’s pain, and her parents’ pain, is greater than mine and Rosalie’s. Even though Rosalie and Samuel had been getting closer of late.

As Alana leaves our side to walk towards her mother, Rosalie nudges me. She’s crying. “It’s my fault,” she whispers. “I told Samuel about the vote. I sent a raven. He was on his quest, but I told him, and he came back, and now he’s dead. Because of me.”

I take her hand fiercely and shake my head. “This is not your fault. It is the fault of those who are too narrow-minded to let Alana be with the people who love her.” I look over to where Alana is now standing beside her mother. “She has never done anything to hurt us.”

“She reads our thoughts.”

“Our feelings,” I correct Rosalie. “That’s not the same thing.”

“It doesn’t ever make you feel uneasy?”

I shake my head. “No. There are worse powers. More dangerous ones.”

Rosalie wipes her cheeks, then gestures to Alana. “What is she doing?”

Alana is taking her mother’s elbow, speaking softly. From here, I can’t hear what she’s saying, but it looks like she’s trying to persuade her to come home.

Magdalena shakes her head, and pulls away from Alana’s grasp.

This time, Alana’s voice is louder. “Mother, please. You need to rest. It’s time to go home now.” She pauses, then adds. “Maura has agreed to let me stay. She persuaded the elders. Let me take care of you.”

This time, Magdalena turns to look at her daughter. For a horrific moment, I think she’s going to yell at her to leave. Tell her it’s because of her that Samuel is lost to us. But she doesn’t, she simply folds Alana into her arms and pulls her in close. “My darling girl,” she sobs. “Please don’t leave me.”

Alana wraps her arms around her mother’s waist. Her wings start to gently move.

Rosalie grabs my hand and squeezes it.

A soft purple glow is emanating from Alana’s wings, and her skin, glowing brighter and brighter. It spreads, surrounding her mother with a shimmering aura that pulses and dances, like a living thing.

Rosalie and I step back as a warmth spreads over us.

“What is that?” Rosalie breathes.

I shake my head, too entranced to speak. I’ve known Alana all my life but I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s like the core of her magic is reaching out for her mother’s pain.

As the light washes over her, Magdalena sighs. Her shoulders stop shaking. She grows quiet in her daughter’s arms.

Alana, on the other hand, grows stiff. The light flows back into her. Rushes, like a snowstorm, around her until she breathes it in. Then, she too becomes softer. More relaxed.

I search my own feelings. The throb of loss has lessened. Beside me, Rosalie smiles softly. “What happened?” she asks, pressing her palm to her chest. “Did Alana do that? Did she take away the pain?”

“I have no idea, but look...” I point towards Magdalena. Her wing is outstretched, looped around Alana’s shoulders, and they are walking toward us. Magdalena sighs heavily, and a slow smile parts her lips. She kisses Alana’s forehead.

“I’m ready to go home now,” she says.

By the time I finish recounting the memory to Alana, she is crying. “I didn’t know what I was doing,” she says. “If I’d known, maybe...” She smiles sadly at me. “Maybe I’d have been able to stop what I did to you.”

“You had no one to teach you, Alana. It wasn’t your fault. The Leafborne had never lived with an empath before. They were woefully unequipped to help you.”

“Is that how I’m going to beat Eldrion?” she asks, studying my face for any sign of agreement or disagreement. “I’m to take his emotions? His powers?”

I cannot answer.

Alana sighs heavily. Then she slides down under the blankets and turns away from me. “I’d like to sleep now,” she says quietly. “Goodnight, Kayan.”