Page 107 of Beyond the Shadowed Earth
The three of them bedded down for what was left of the night, Eda curled up against the cliff wall. There had been no discussion, but Morin and Tainir slept away from her, on the other side of the fire. She didn’t allow herself to feel that hurt, because the sorrow of all the world still pulsed inside of her. What had she become? What had Tuer and the One and the Starlight made her? Why was she sent back into the world if she was … broken? Perhaps this was her punishment for the lives she had taken. Her penance. To live once more among those she cared about, but to carry still their sorrow with her as if she yet knelt chained before Tuer’s mirrors.
Could she … could she never touch anyone again without causing them pain?
She listened to Morin and Tainir breathing. She watched the fire, the flames shrinking as the wood burned low.
She got up and paced along the edge of the cliff, letting the wind and the snow and the stars wrap around her like a cloak. She was so different. And the world was the same.
What was she supposed to do now? Where would she go? What was she even fit for?
She shut her eyes and saw Eddenahr, its gleaming spires and blue-tiled roofs; she felt the sun burning her skin, caught the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle, tasted fresh orange slices, tangy and sweet. She saw a pair of dark eyes that once were dear to her, a lanky form sprawled over the roof tiles. She felt soft lips pressed against hers under the inky sky. Why did she miss him, even now? Why did she miss something that had never been hers, had never been real?
Sorrow pulsed inside of her, and it was not the grief of the world but her own grief, sharp and bitter and piercing as a spearpoint.
She knelt on the side of the cliff, her shoulders shaking as she wept for the country and the family and the friend and the husband she had lost. She wanted to go home. She wanted to go home so badly ithurt.
But how could she?
She crouched there all the long night, watching as the dark turned to dawn, the stars fading in the greater light of the rising sun.
As light poured golden onto the cliff, the power stirred inside of her. She could feel the monstrous bird, just under her skin, ready to fly free at her bidding.
She didn’t turn when Morin came up beside her, but she was glad of his presence.
“Do you think I’m a monster?” she asked.
“No.” His answer was quick and fierce.
“But you’re afraid of me.”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Eda.”
Her name on his lips made her gaze find his. There were tear stains on his face, as if he’d been crying unaware in his sleep.
“Come back to the village with us. Stay with Tainir and me. We discussed it at length—we want you to stay and make a home with us. To—to make a home withme,if you wish.”
A knot pulled tight in her throat. She knew what he was saying, without him actually saying it. “Morin, you hardly know me. And I—I almost killed you yesterday.”
“You can’t journey with someone for weeks without coming to know every piece of them. Idoknow you, Eda. I know you’ve been alone nearly your whole life. You don’t have to be, not anymore.”
Beneath her skin, the power surged and stretched, whispering her name. “I don’t think I can even touch you.” She hadn’t meant to say that, but the words had tumbled out anyway.
Something hard came into his face, and he held out his hand to her, palm up. His jaw was set, determined, but his fingers trembled.
She reached her own hand out, laid it on his.
His sorrow pulsed through her, staggering, strong, and she gasped and let go before she accidentally sent it back at him.
But even that brief touch was enough to make him crumple to his knees, his forehead creased in pain.
She bit back a sob.
“I’m all right.” He gulped air like a drowning man, and forced himself to his feet again. “Eda, I’m all right.”
The sorrow inside of her screamed to get out, and she stood shuddering on the cliffside. “I can’t come with you. I’m a danger to you. To Tainir.”
