“You wouldn’t understand. I’ve done this all my life, it’s never gone wrong.”
She wasn’t telling him something, but he’d heard enough for one night.
If he was lucky, he’d wake up in the morning and all this would have been one long, crazy dream. But he’d felt like his luck was running out before, and he feared there was nothing left of it now.
The right choices rarely feel good. Never has one felt worse or been harder. I swear it on my immortal soul. On my home.
Chapter 19
Naavah Ora
For once, Naavah Ora didn’t feel like leading their strange little group. Doran had gone ahead, followed by 840, who looked like she’d taken his favourite possession away. She was comfortable taking the rear, where she could think and be alone.
She wanted to know what had gone wrong as much as Doran did. She’d practised this spell with her grandmother at least three times every week, and nothing had ever come through. Perhaps she’d got further than she ever had before against her own expectations. Or perhaps it meant something altogether more sinister.
Naavah Ora remembered her nightmare all too clearly—corrupted spirits swarming all over her forests, armed, armoured, and ready to tear their world apart. The spirits she’d allowed to cross into this world had been armoured, too, but it would do no good to panic and jump to conclusions.
Either she was making progress and had simply forgot to seal the portal the right way, or the corruption was spreading and overwhelming the spirit realm.
She tried to think if anything similar had ever happened before. She couldn’t think of even one occasion. Life in her clan had been quiet and peaceful. Her grandma had been opening the gateway for a very long time, and nothing had ever left Dunhă. Naavah Ora herself lacked the practise and experience, but she’d tried to do it herself many times. She’d been getting better. The spirits themselves weren’t vicious. She’d put up all necessary wards to stop this very thing from happening.
Naavah Ora couldn’t stop practicing because it had gone wrong once. Mistakes were part of life, and she’d stopped the spirits. She’d stopped them from spreading their corruption.
But if it happened again… If they didn’t hurry—if she didn’t find a way to stop it for good—it would happen again, no matter how careful she was.
She had to tell Doran and 840. They needed to know what they’d walked into.
Their walk back to their small camp was tense. Naavah Ora wanted to say something—to apologise, of all things—and she sensed that Doran needed to say something too, but neither of them did. 840 walked much closer to Doran than he did to her. So little time had passed since they began to travel together, and already she had alienated him.
Doran had been right before. Two weeks would drag if they didn’t at least try.
Something deep down inside her was excited at the possibility. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
After all, she was responsible for them now. Neither of them knew the full extent of what 840’s village had tried to accomplish, of what lay ahead of them if she didn’t find a way to prevent it. She was the most skilled of them. In a way this was like leading her clan, just on a much smaller scale.
For the duration of their journey, they were her people—
If she hadn’t ruined any chance of this already.
The camp looked cosy. Naavah Ora was used to sleeping outside or studying the stars, but they’d never spoken to her the way they’d spoken to her mother. Still, she found comfort beneath them.
Doran sat by the fire. 840 lay down close to him, his arms folded beneath his head and his eyes fixed on the stars. She wanted to know why Doran asking 840 about his home had made him faint earlier that day, but Doran had been right to stop her from questioning 840. It was obvious he’d gone through a lot. He needed space.
840 wasn’t what she’d expected. The sacrifices she had heard of were religious to their very core and couldn’t be swayed. 840 didn’t look like he minded being away from the village. She had expected a fight, or an argument at the very least, but instead he was watching the night sky with an almost childlike curiosity.
She sat down opposite Doran and fiddled with her staff as she took her time laying it down beside her.
No one but her grandmother had ever expected her to apologise. Mistakes helped her grow and learn, but her grandmother had also insisted she own up to her mistakes. Today she had made a mistake, and she owed them an explanation.
“I’m sorry.”
Doran looked torn, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. His lips parted several times only to close again, and after a few failed attempts he settled on a frown.
“What did you mean back there when you said you tried to enter the spirit realm? That’s not actually possible, is it?”
Naavah Ora nodded. He wouldn’t understand, but she had to try. “I’m a Suf’afir. Some of my people have the skill to enter the spirit realm, Dunhă, and watch the dead.”
Even in the warmth of the fire Doran looked pale. “Ancients, why?”
“Because we can learn much from the departed. Have you never wondered what happens to us when we die?”
The flames flickered across his face, shadows dancing across his sun-tanned skin, his eyes were clouding over.
He shrugged. “I guess I haven’t.”
She felt he wasn’t done speaking, and waited. Her grandmother had warned her that this would be a difficult topic for humans.
“What is it like?”
She smiled. “It’s beautiful, and horrible. Wonderful, and frightening. The first time I entered Dunhă I—” She didn’t need to tell him everything. “There is a lot to discover, and much to lose if you don’t know where to step.”
“So you can walk amongst them? The dead, I mean? And they don’t mind?”
She blushed. She’d said too much, after all. “They don’t, but not every Suf’afir can walk their realm as I can. The name roughly translated means ‘spirit walker’, but it’s misleading. We can enter their realm, but we are observers only. I’m the first elf that I know of who can move and explore.”
She needed to tell him about the corruption, but Doran looked like he’d learned too much to sleep tonight already. Perhaps now wasn’t the right time.
“I’m sorry I called you elfling before. Twice.”
She smiled, wider this time. She hadn’t expected him to apologise.
“An honest mistake. I expect I’ll hear it more often once we reach the first town.” She looked at 840, who was still contemplating the stars. “Is he all right?”
Doran nodded. “Yes, he’s fine. I think he used to watch the stars a lot before he came here.”
If 840 could hear them, he didn’t show it. He looked at peace.
She fiddled with her staff by her side, only to remember that she’d already done all that. She shuffled her feet instead.
“What’s it like, out there?”
“Out where?”
“Vaska. Ceidir. I’ve never left the village before.” Naavah Ora blushed again. This was the second time she’d said more than she’d meant to.
“I don’t really know what to tell you. Vaska is a large country with odd, ancient things living in the forests and merchants all trying to outbid the others inside the cities. Neither tried to kill me so far, your forest creatures are a first.”