"Again, Eska," Hardt said. I pulled the flesh together once more.
By the time Hardt was finished, we were all exhausted. I've often thought it takes as much effort and energy to heal a person as it does to be the one healed. I have developed a great respect for Biomancers over the years, and an even greater respect for physicians who rely on skill and knowledge alone.
We let Isen sleep and Hardt drifted off as well. Our position was as secure as it could be with only one way into the empty room. Yorin and Tamura continued to watch the hallway. Yorin wasn't pleased, but he kept quiet about it. Tamura had a grave look on his face and said nothing; I think that scared me more than the amount of Isen's blood on the floor, and on my hands. I considered trying to sleep, but I knew I wouldn't. Couldn't.
We were close to the surface, close to freedom. I could feel it. I had no proof, but I knew it all the same. I itched to move on. More than once I glanced at Isen as he slept and part of me, a horrible insidious part of me hoped he'd die.
Chapter 33
There were rumours about Josef and I at the academy. Not to begin with, we were both too young, but after a few years they started to surface. I would bet every fortune I've won and lost over the years on the bitch-whore starting those rumours. Lesray took every opportunity to make my life harder.
Josef and I spent almost every moment together. We trained together. We ate together. We slept together. I suppose it was inevitable that, once puberty kicked in, people would start to question our relationship. The tutors didn't care. No, that's not true, I think the tutors did care. I think they approved, as they did of anything that would strengthen the bond between us. They were always so scared Josef might defect, especially given his outspoken views about the war. I think it might also have been because of how close he grew up to the border. He knew just how little difference there really was between the Orrans and the Terrelans, which is to say nothing but the name.
Josef was always angry about the war. It's not really surprising given the things he had lost, and the things he had seen. He told me about them once, stony-faced and seething with rage. Of the parents that had loved him and treated him like a little miracle. Of the big sister who tormented him in a hundred playful ways and was always there to protect him when he needed her. Of the village that worked the swampland close to the nearby river and were as poor as the mud they sifted through. And he told me of their deaths at the hands of the first Terrelans to cross the border. I cried for him, even as he refused to cry for himself.
He blamed the Orrans for the war, claiming it was all their fault. I've always thought war more of a mutual effort. If one side didn't want to fight, they would have used more words and fewer swords.
At the academy, I heard the rumours. We both did. At first, we laughed at them, maybe even adding fuel to the fires by holding hands and showing more public affection. But those rumours and innuendo soon outlived my patience. It became a chore watching people whisper as we walked past, seeing sly eyes glance our way. I always got the rougher end of those rumours. I caught the odd word whispered behind my back; harlot and slut. While Josef was praised, more often than not, for years of hard work finally paying off. I was just twelve years old and innocent, but the rumours branded me a whore and made me a pariah amongst my peers. Only Josef didn't seem to care what was said about me. He was praised for that generosity.
No matter what the rumours said there was never any romantic feelings between us. We were siblings in everything but blood. Closer than siblings, even. The pahht call it soul bonded. Two people linked together by their very essence. Two halves only ever whole when they're together. I felt that way down in the ruined Djinn city. I felt broken in two, a part of me missing. I couldn't help but feel I'd pushed Josef away to pursue my infatuation with Isen, and now that that was ended, I wanted my best friend back. I wanted to tell him I was sorry and feel the comfort and solace in his compassion. I wanted to feel whole again.
The Damned didn't attack again. Yorin claimed he heard noises, the scuff of feet on stone in the distance, yet we saw nothing. We all hoped they had learned their lesson. I don't think any of us were prepared for another fight.
When Hardt woke he checked on Isen again and the younger brother started to come around. He was alive, but his pain was obvious and I caught Hardt looking worried more than once. I silently wondered if Isen would ever walk without a limp again, and I discovered a hard truth about myself. I didn't care. We stuffed ourselves with shrooms and picked Isen off the ground. Hardt half carried his brother as we moved on.
We were out of oil, so we left the lanterns behind. One more thing we didn't need to carry. Luckily, we were all eating shiners and the shrooms gave us passable night vision even in such darkness. Tamura led the way again, following the breeze against his skin.
Anticipation can be a horrible thing and I was nervous with it. We were moving slowly, both because of the darkness, and because of Isen. Every step was torture. Every pause was even more torturous and we paused often for Isen to rest. I found Yorin watching me more than once during those breaks, and every time his gaze flicked to the younger brother. There was an unspoken question there; Yorin was asking if we should leave them. Move ahead and find our own way out. I don't know when or why Yorin had come to rely on my opinion, maybe because I took the lead when no one else would, but I wasn't about to argue with the decision. We needed Yorin. We needed someone willing and able to kill. I didn't think Hardt had it in him to go on another murderous rampage. Or perhaps it was that he didn't have it in him to pull himself out of it once more.
Wandering down those ruined halls became a drudgery, all of us moving along with exhaustion and determination in equal measure. We were all so fucking tired. We almost missed the hole in the wall. Perhaps the others thought it just another doorway leading to the wreckage of a room that had once served a purpose, but not me. I dragged my eyes from the floor in front of me and saw a crack in the wall, leading out into broken rock beyond. I felt my heart beat faster and hope sprang alive inside of me anew. It was the way out. I knew it, and I didn't need the wind or Tamura to tell me. I knew it was the final stretch to freedom.
Isen groaned as Hardt lowered him to the ground in a nearby room. The cave opened out from a hole in the wall. It sloped upwards slowly, barely large enough for us to walk single file. The walls were rough and looked as though they had been scraped away. The breeze was stronger and it carried something on it, a fresh smell like the first rains of spring. The scent of life rallying to take back what had been stolen by a harsh winter.
I stared up into the darkness of the cave and smiled, drawing in deep breaths through my nose and enjoying a scent that almost covered the rancid odour of our unwashed bodies. You learn to forget the pleasure of being clean when trapped underground in a prison surrounded by others who barely remember the feeling. But it soon comes flooding back when the prospect of finally ridding filth from skin presents itself.
"We should send someone ahead to explore," Hardt said. "Make certain it's the way out."
"I'll go." Yorin's offer sounded genuine enough. I think we all knew he wouldn't come back if the cave led to the surface.
"We'll all go," I said. "Together. It is the way out. Tamura agrees." The crazy old man nodded.