Promises to the stars fluttered chaotically through my mind. To the moon. To the sun. To anything that might listen.
Please. Please, bring him back.
I’ll never blame anyone for my vows.
I’ll never complain.
I’ll never argue.
I’ll resolve myself to my oath and never want otherwise.
I’ll do what I’m told. When I’m told. How I’m told.
Please, give him back.
46
Maren
It hadn’t taken this long on Neris Island.
I’d pulled him onto the beach and had only given him a fraction of the air I was using now.
Throwing my sodden braid over my shoulder, I moved from his mouth to his chest a third time, gasping air into my own lungs as I pushed down on him with the heel of my hands.
His head lolled with every pump of my arms into his chest, every muscle in his body limp.
COME ON, KYE.
With a snarl, I forced his coat and shirt aside, nails digging into his bare chest as I called to the blood in his heart through my fist. Andsqueezed.
His muscles seized. His chest contracted. His neck arched backwards as he retched without coherency. I grabbed him by the collar and flung him forward, watching in blurry disbelief as his body sent his most recent meal into the snow between his legs.
His eyes rolled, and he felt flimsy against me—but he didn’t immediately fall back into the snow. Instead, he sank to his side,coughing and spitting, drawing ragged breaths of air into his lungs.
He moaned, legs and arms churning as though working through a burn in his middle, vivid claw marks from my nails carved into his flesh. I sat him upright, squatting over his legs to wipe melted snow out of his eyes with trembling fingers, and realized I was trembling.
He looked at me, golden eyes full of confusion at the pain in his thorax, and I’d never seen anything so beautiful.
“I broke it,” I wept, wiping my nose with a shaking arm. “I’m so sorry, Kye. I think I broke your sternum.” Hands across his shoulders, I leaned him forward against myself, tucking the crown of his cold, wet head into the hollow of my neck. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
My hands found their way up his neck and into his hair, dripping with half-melted snow. Suddenly my legs felt weak, and my knees sank between his thighs, not caring about the bile that sat nearby. He leaned against me, coughing softly and clearing his throat, his hand limp against my shoulder as I cradled him.
“I don’t know what happened,” he finally croaked.
I pulled him away far enough to study his face. “We made it to the top, and then I caused an avalanche—” I lost my breath at the word, dropping my forehead against his, fingers twisting in his hair and the snow-ridden fur of his coat.
“I’m fine,” he said, the words weak. He pushed himself upright, his palm digging into his chest, the corners of his mouth dragging into a low grimace. “I’m fine.”
His eyes drifted down the mountainside to the massive wall of snow below.
It had ripped trees from their roots and rocks from their beds. The debris poked from the snow at odd angles, disjointed and broken. Beyond the deadly berm, the Rivean camp shifted and blurred, ants angry their nest had been disturbed.
The dust of snow settled, giving way to bright, cold sunshine. Wool blankets torn from Kolibri’s back, the avalanche guiding their attention up, I’m sure we were as visible to the army below as they were to us.
“Their trail is buried as well,” Kye hissed through clenched teeth as though reading my thoughts. “It would take them hours to reach us. Perhaps a full day.”
“Can you stand?” I asked, sniffling as I scrambled to my feet to help.
