We never talked about it, not really, but I think he knew what had happened. I think he knew it wasn't really me. I just remember him holding me tight, not saying a word, and using his own Empamancy to flood me with feelings of love. The whirl of emotions was too much. I burst into tears and lay there in Josef's arms, shaking, sobbing, senseless.
I should feel grateful. I do feel grateful, even now, for him pulling me back from the brink. But just like Lesray planted a seed of despair and self-loathing that I don't think I can ever truly purge from myself, I wonder if Josef planted a seed of love. I miss him every day more than anyone I have ever met, and I can't help but wonder if those feelings are truly mine. If they ever were. Do I look back on my life through the tinted vision of glasses he forced me to wear?
Chapter 38
Yorin was waiting for us by the cave entrance. He had a new lantern beside him casting light on our way out. I should probably have been glad that he waited for us, but all I felt towards him was hatred. That hate has waned over the years, but never vanished. I don't blame Yorin; he had no idea the Terrelan soldier he was killing was my best friend. No, I don't blame him. I blame myself. That doesn't mean I forgive him.
He was wary of me as we approached. I have come to recognise the signs, and a hand on a knife hilt is a fairly obvious one. I think Tamura was the only one of us who didn't look exhausted, though he was starting to look his age. We had all suffered in one way or another.
Without a word, Yorin picked up the lantern and edged his way into the cave mouth. I let Hardt follow and trudged along after him, trusting Tamura to our rear guard. I didn't think anything or anyone would be coming after us, nor did I care. I was feeling raw. Like leather stretched too thin and starting to show holes.
The cave wound back and forth through the rock, but always upwards. It had a low roof so Hardt had to stoop the entire way and I saw him bump his head on more than one occasion. I don't know how long we spent in that cave, squeezing our way between rough walls. I know the breeze continued to grow stronger and I could feel the bite of it on my skin. It was winter after all.
I walked along in such a daze, too numb to feel anything. It was a surprise when Hardt disappeared from in front of me. I looked up and wondered when the tunnel had gotten so bright. It took me a moment to realise the tunnel was gone, nothing but a small crack in a cliff face behind me. What lay in front was a craggy landscape of rocks, heather, and the edge of a forest stretching into the horizon all covered in a blanket of white.
I dropped to my knees in the powdery snow and looking up to a washed-out sky. A blue I thought I had forgotten. I couldn't stop the tears. I didn't try to. I had equated the sky to freedom for so long and now I could see it again. I was free. A deep, genuine laugh bubbled up from inside and burst out. It sounded strange, alien, and I wondered how long it had been since I had really laughed.
Tamura joined in. He has always loved to laugh and rarely even bothers to look for a reason. Some people think him mad because of it and, while they're not wrong, it is not madness that allows him to find laughter at any situation. It is wisdom. I turned to find him lying in the snow moving his arms and legs up and down. I didn't bother to ask what he was doing, only marvelled at the grime that was staining the snow beneath him.
"We made it," Hardt said, his voice soft, heavy with suppressed grief.
I'm not sure if it was shock or disbelief, but I kept expecting it to be some sort of trick. I felt like any moment I would realise the sky was just a cavern roof painted blue. I found myself holding my breath, scared that to breathe in would somehow break the illusion.
Yorin dropped the lantern on the ground, drew in a deep breath, and started walking.
"Where are you going?" Hardt asked.
"Anywhere away from her." Yorin stopped for a moment and glanced back. "I followed you down there because you were my best shot at getting out. But there's something fucking wrong with you, girl." He turned his back on me again and started walking.
I think I scared him. Well, Ssserakis scared him, but he didn't know that. I got to my feet and stared at Yorin's back as he walked away. My emotions a whirl.
"I'm surprised," Hardt said. "I didn't think you'd just let him go after what he did to Josef."
I waited a while, long enough to be certain an errant breeze couldn't carry my words to Yorin's ears. Long enough that his silhouette was a thin black line against the white of the snow around him. Then I let loose a savage smile. "Fuck him! He's walking straight back towards the Pit," I said. "I don't need to kill him. They'll do it for me."
Tamura stepped in front of me, blocking my view. "Ancient eyes," he said. "Past lives lived long but not forgotten. So much pain."
Silva once told me there was an infinite well of sadness inside of me. That even when smiling, she could see the endless sorrow in my eyes. I think maybe she was right, and Tamura saw it too. I keep the sadness coiled inside of me. It is mine and mine alone. I wonder if it started underground, in the Pit or the buried Djinn city. Maybe it started even earlier. Maybe it has always been inside of me.
I looked up at the sky, at my freedom, and felt a grin spread across my face. I had finally escaped my captors, but it was far from over. They were still alive. The overseer, Prig, Deko. The Terrelan Emperor. They were all still alive, and I had sworn vengeance on them all. My escape was only the beginning of my legacy. Now it was time to set the world ablaze and watch my enemies burn.
Eska's journey continues in
The Lessons Never Learned
(coming 28th April 2020).
Pre-order it now.
Read on for brief excerpt.
The Lessons Never Learned
Chapter 1
A terran philosopher once told me that when you stare into the darkness it stares back. I've always thought it was yourself you should find staring back at you. I found Ssserakis. The ancient horror wore many faces, always of those whose deaths weighed upon my conscience. I stared back into the cave on that cliff face and I saw the ghost of Isen standing there.
My friend. Hardt's only brother. My first love, though I'm not sure I should really call it that. My first lust maybe, my first encounter with sexual desire. My first time with a man inside of me. Isen was a mess, his leg cut open and oozing, his rags torn and bloody, his eyes were pale and misty. For just a moment I hoped it was him. I hoped he had somehow survived. I hoped Hardt would turn and see his little brother and all the pain his death was causing would be forgotten in an instant, but I knew better. I knew I was looking at nothing but a ghost conjured by Ssserakis in an attempt to scare me. But I wouldn't let it. I was not afraid of death. I would not let it affect me. I am the weapon. The mantra drilled into me by the tutors at the academy, designed to absolve me of guilt, of conscience, of doubt.
I was still staring at the face of my lover when a creature erupted from the darkness. It was not much larger than a child, but then, neither was I. The creature hit me and we went down in the snow. Sharpened nails tore at my skin as I fought to keep the thing from my face. The wail it let loose set my ears crackling. Hardt tells me I screamed bloody murder and his recollection is often better than my own. If I did, I'm sure it was more battle shout than cry of terror. I think, these days, the little beast wouldn't have shocked me at all. These days I expect monsters to come flying out of dark corners. Such is the way of raising mischievous children.