The Cliffs of Litori
THEY SAT AMIDST THE tall grass atop the cliffs. Despite nearly two years gone between them, Knot found the way they sat cross-legged next to one another familiar. They had sat like this lifetimes ago, in Pranna, before and after they were engaged to be married.
“And now you’re here, Queen of the Tiellans,” Knot said.
And now you’re here, and you’ve killed thousands of people.
Winter had just told him her story, how she had indeed demolished the imperial dome in Roden as Astrid had seen, but how she had then survived and been imprisoned by the new emperor, Daval; how she had traveled back to her hometown of Pranna, where the tiellans had been pushed out by humans, and on to Cineste, to witness a massacre; how she had led the survivors to the ancient tiellan city of Adimora and taken control of their forces—with the help of Daval’s former captain, Urstadt, the woman Knot had just fought in error. She told him of her victories against the Khalic Legion, capped by a battle against the Daemon Mefiston, where the Legion briefly allied with and then abandoned her army. And finally she told him of the path that led her here, to Triah.
The path that led her to fell God’s Eye.
“And now I am here,” Winter said quietly.
Knot shook his head. “Astrid saw the dome fall on you; she told me you were dead, that nobody could have survived.”
“I was the only one who did,” Winter said with a shrug. “And I thought you were killed, too. How could we have known otherwise?”
She looked out over the cliffs, toward the sea. Knot’s own gaze followed hers for a moment, but then he turned back to the city below them.
“And the Tokal-Ceno, the—the new one who became emperor, he told you I was dead as well?”
“He did,” Winter said. “Although I now realize he had no idea what had happened to you. One more reason to hate him.”
And yet, Knot sensed no hate in her voice. He sighed. “I am happy you are alive.”
“And I you.”
The wind moved between blades of grass, between Knot and Winter as they sat together.
I am so sorry I left you, Winter. That’s what he wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t form in his throat. Not after all that had happened, after all they had both done.
“But you are not happy to see me,” Winter said after a moment.
Knot looked at her sharply. “No, darlin’.” He exhaled heavily. “Circumstances make that impossible.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. We have both changed.”
Knot shook his head. “It ain’t that you’ve changed, it’s…”
Goddess, how to tell her this.
The city below hummed and swarmed with movement, from this distance and height like a massive colony of ants making their way above ground. A pile of rubble marred the surface.
Knot nodded at the site of the collapse.
“You’ve killed many people, Winter. Why’d you do it?”
“You’ve told me your story, haven’t you? Why don’t I understand what you did here? Why is that still a mystery to me?”
“You don’t understand,” Winter said quietly.
“No I don’t, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. But if you have a reason, if you—”
“You aren’t one of us, Knot.”
He knew what she meant. He just hadn’t expected that particular argument from her.
“I lived in Pranna for a year—”
“That year isn’t worth a horse’s ass, and you know it.”
“I’ve helped you,” Knot said, “and I’ve helped many other tiellans since you… since we parted ways.” He’d fought Kamites in Tinska; he’d put his life on the line for Ocrestia and Cavil, the tiellan Odenites. But some had died. Been killed, rather, whether in Tinska or one of the two attacks at Harmoth.
Had he really helped anyone?
“You are still a human. You’ll always be a human, Knot, so you can never fully understand what it’s like.”
He couldn’t argue the point.
“But how does that,” Knot said, pointing at the tiellan camp behind them, “lead to this.” He pointed at Triah, at the crumbled scar on its surface near the sea.
“A long road,” Winter said quietly. “My people were enslaved by humans for a thousand years. When we were finally freed, we weren’t acknowledged as equals; we were banished to the smallest, dingiest corners of your cities, or the far outskirts of your towns.”
Winter, who had been sitting straight and still, leaned forward ever so slightly. Knot would have hardly noticed the change in posture, but her eyes changed a great deal. Where a moment ago they had been deep, calm pools of darkness, they were now twin pits of black fire. “Tiellans are being beaten to death in the streets. In Cineste, I saw a field of bodies—tiellan men, and women, and children—all of them slaughtered for no better reason than that a few humans did not want them to leave of their own will. And outside Adimora, Riccan Carrieri fled with his army and left us to fight dozens of Outsiders, just like the ones we fought in Izet, alone. He could have helped us, and he left us to die.”
Knot could say nothing to those things. Her account of what had happened outside of Cineste, and then at the Battle of the Rihnemin, had sent chills down his spine. A part of him wanted to tell her what he, too, had witnessed, of the persecution in Tinska, and the Beldam’s preaching. But another part of him did not dare; not if another God’s Eye would be the result.
“You killed tiellans, too, when you attacked the Eye.”
Winter sat up straight, and while the fire did not leave her eyes, it calmed somewhat.
“I know I did,” she said. “And I have wept for them. I will continue to weep for them, and for the innocent humans I killed that day, too. But I do not regret it, Knot.”
Knot stared at her in disbelief. How could she not regret the slaughter of innocent people?
“I am using the only tactic the humans left me.”
“And what tactic is that?” Knot asked, his throat dry. The words barely scraped past his lips.
“Fear.”
Silence fell between them, a silence like that which followed a sudden clap of thunder, gently rumbling and ringing until all sound faded, and there was nothing but tension.
“Are you still taking faltira?” Knot asked. All but blurted it out, really; the question had been on his mind since the moment he knew she was on the cliffs with her tiellan force, since the moment he saw her through the Void. And, truthfully, he knew the answer. He knew a monstrously powerful psimancer traveled with the tiellan Rangers. It would be too much of a coincidence for it to be anyone else. He’d been resisting asking the question this entire time, thinking it was none of his business anymore. Winter was right when she had said they’d both changed; perhaps, for all he knew, she had changed for the better in this way. Perhaps she could take faltira, and it did not affect her the way it once had.
But now, hearing her talk this way, hearing her casual disregard for life, he asked the question anyway. It suddenly seemed very much his business.
Winter closed her eyes, and did not open them. She remained seated there, cross-legged, arms resting on her knees.
“You must know the answer to that,” she said after a moment.
“I need to hear it from you.”
“Then yes. I am still taking faltira.”
Knot was surprised at the hurt that caused him. He remembered withholding frost from her before Kali and Nash confronted them at the fountain square in Izet. Perhaps, if he had given her a frost crystal, everything would be different now. Perhaps they might never have been separated. Perhaps they would have found those monks Astrid had mentioned, and this would all be done with. Perhaps she would not need it anymore.
“You killed a man in Izet for faltira,” Knot could not stop the words from tumbling out of him. “You lied to me for weeks about it, putting all our lives at risk. You killed dozens of people, of innocent people in Navone, because you couldn’t control yourself. How can you still be taking that shit, Winter? All you do is leave a trail of bodies behind you. You think you’re helping, but all you do is destroy.”
Knot did not care about the tears running their way down Winter’s cheeks from her still-closed eyes.
“You’re right about me, Winter. I’ll never understand what it’s like to be tiellan. I can’t begin to imagine the things you, or your people, have gone through. But I don’t know anything— anything—that justifies mass murder,” he said, pointing down at Triah, at the rubble that was once God’s Eye. “At this point, I can only hope faltira has taken complete control over you. Because if this is who you truly are…”
Knot stood. Winter did not look at him. She remained seated in the grass, wet lines running down her cheeks.
“I don’t want any part of it.”