Eyes wide in shock, the soldier dropped his weapon and grasped either side of Kye’s arm, as though unsure what to do. Kye withdrew it in a single pull, sending a spurt of glittering scarlet to the snow. The Rivean tilted sideways, his feet suddenly clumsy. He caught himself with an arm in the snow as he went down, blinking hard between the two of us. He opened his mouth to scream, and no noise came out.
Kye sank to his knee next to the man, running his blade through clean snow. “Kde je tvoj tábor?”
The soldier glanced up the mountain, hands on the wound at his stomach. He looked back at Kye and shook his head.
Kye’s attention darted to me. “Watch the trail, I’m sure they’ll come back for him.”
I nodded, slipping to the bottom of the drift and finding a tree to hide behind where I could hear voices or feet sooner than I’d see them. Crouching in the hardened snow, spine pressed against the bark, I watched Kye and the man as they spoke. And realized the soldier was crying.
Kye held the soldier’s hand, his head bowed over his bent knee. His soft voice reached through the cold wind, and though he spoke in Rivean, I recognized the cadence of his words. The final prayer to Theia.
Mother moon, take my hand,
Lead me to the after land.
Beaches warm and water pure,
My body young with fresh vigor.
Mother moon, take my pain,
Let it be a drop of rain.
Upon the shore where I shall live,
With each wave, let me forgive.
Mother moon, take my soul,
Lay my body in a hole.
Let not my loved ones cry for me.
Tell them I wait by the sea.
Leihaniians didn’t use the prayer. I’d only heard it a handful of times from sailors who had led a dying friend to Akamai’s house or had lost them at sea.
And, months ago, on a quiet island under the stars while I fought my own tears.
Kye wrapped the Rivean’s fingers around the hilt of the dying man’s sword, laying it vertically over his chest.
“Pripravený?” Kye asked softly, holding the man’s hands firmly in place.
Pale, breath shallow, the soldier nodded.
Pulling his fur from his shoulders, Kye laid it across the man’s mouth. Then leaned in, his knee over the man’s neck.
I grimaced and turned away, stomach in sudden knots at the clawing sound of the man’s heels as they scraped against rock and ice, the cruel weight of it slipping over me. Unlike Naheso’s death, or the pirates, this Rivean hadn’t sought us out to attack. Hadn’t asked for a fight. He’d simply been walking a trail. Where he was supposed to be.
I wondered if he had friends in his camp. I wondered whether he was a husband to someone. If he was a father. I wondered ifhe’d made promises that he now couldn’t keep. I wondered what his name might be.
When everything grew quiet, I forced myself to stand, avoiding looking down. The wind tugged at my hair, ruffling the layers of my shirt under my furs, but my eyes remained trained on Kye, who held the man’s hand as life drained from his body. He waited long after the man stopped moving, then swallowed hard. Neither of us spoke as Kye placed himself at the Rivean’s head, braced his hands on the soldier’s shoulders, and slid his body gently over the edge of the mountain.
There one moment—then gone. His exit was soundless. We stared at the place where the mountain claimed his existence. Where we’d erased all evidence of his life.
“Come on,” Kye said, finally meeting my gaze with a regret I hadn’t yet seen in his eyes. “We’re losing the day."
44
