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The world was just as white when Nara opened her eyes. Although the dark clouds had taken some of the edge from it, and it didn’t hurt her eyes in the same way. Haven had stopped. She glanced about and tapped his shoulder, and he slowly released his hold on her. She slid down his back to land in the soft snow, her boots squeaking.
“How far have we come?” she asked, turning back and looking across the landscape. It was not clear where they had been or where they might have come from. There were some footprints in the snow, but only several, as though they had suddenly appeared at this point with no history as to how they had made it here.
They were never in the same place twice, at least not that she remembered—and she remembered it all, didn’t she? She turned slowly as Haven sheathed his father’s sword. A sword she had watched him wield so many times, against so many creatures.
Her hand fell to her own sword in its sheath at her belt. The familiar feel of the leather around the handle, the solid-gold blade she knew without looking at, and the pouch that held her stones tucked away beneath the heavy coat. She poured the cool stones out of the pouch and held them tight in her hand. She missed them when she was beneath the fire tree, and she so often wondered what they might tell her of her life there if she could have the chance to hold them.
The five stones were familiar and similar in size and shape, each like a large bean. Each held a slight variation in colour and dark marks within the green stone, and yet she knew them all. Despite their earlier message, they were silent now. It had been in her last life that they had screamed at her for the first time. Before that, she had not heard them for too long. Now, other than a low, level sense of security, there was nothing. No indication of what was ahead of them nor behind. She slipped them back into the pouch at her belt.
“Why did they stop?” she asked.
“Perhaps they were not the monsters we seek.”
“We were pulled away from where they were. But they were in greater numbers than I expected. Will they return?”
“Perhaps we found a nest of some kind, and they were just chasing us away.”
Nara shook her head. It was an idea, but not the truth. Whatever they were, they were not natural creatures, and she feared there would be more of them. Her lightning had little impact on them.
It was all speculation. She had no idea from day to day what the next would bring, what the next life would be, whether this would be the last day of this life or if she would even get another. How many times had they done this—how many times had they relived what might have been? Or tried to find meaning in it all?
They had just accepted so often that they were lucky enough to have survived, in whatever capacity that was. That they could be together, but that they would be compelled to seek out and fight whatever unnatural creatures roamed the world where they had appeared, no matter how unnatural they might be themselves.
Nara drew the sleek sword from the sheath at her side, turning it slowly and watching the light play over the brilliant blade. Solid and smooth. She sighed, remembering holding it against Haven’s side in her last life—their last life—trying to hold him together for that little bit longer. Trying to hold them both together, in a way. She had not been ready to lose him when she had just found him, yet he was so ready to go.
She pulled suddenly at his coat, lifting it away from his skin. He jumped as the cold air permeated the warm bubble of air he’d had beneath it. Nara’s numb fingers felt nothing as they flitted over his skin. He sucked in a breath.
“They don’t last,” he said.
“I know,” she murmured, looking over his perfect body, unblemished, fresh and ready for another life of facing creatures that would try to tear him down and kill him at every opportunity.
“Nara?”
“Do you remember the mark, when I sealed the wound closed?” She lifted her eyes to his and allowed his clothing to drop.
He nodded once.
“The marks, the imprint?” she whispered.
“From the sword,” he returned.
“This sword.” She held it out, trying not to squint as the light hit the golden blade again.
Haven nodded, but his brow knitted in confusion. “What is it?”
“There were marks on your skin, from the sword.”
“Yes,” he said as though she wasn’t making any sense—and she wasn’t, for she didn’t understand it herself. “Haven,” she said slowly as she ran her fingers down the smooth blade. “There are no symbols on the sword.”
He blinked as though waking from a deep sleep and reached to take it from her hand. She released it, missing the familiarity of it, and yet it felt foreign at the same time. She watched as he did the same, running his fingers along the smooth, unblemished surface.
“It has not been used,” he muttered.
“It is not the same sword,” she replied before she could think about what the words meant. She could so clearly see the imprint she had left on him, feel the risen imprint from the symbols she had not understood on the sword. A gold sword, but not this gold sword.
She squeezed her eyes closed and dragged in a deep breath, coughing from the cold that penetrated her lungs. She held her hand out, and the soft leather found her palm. She was unsure if the sword had returned at her will or if Haven had placed it into her hand. But it was her sword. She knew that as well as she knew Haven, the man standing before her. The man she knew with everything she had. And yet, she understood it was not her sword. Not the same sword. She sheathed it quickly and emptied the leather pouch again into her hand.
The pouch had changed. She knew that, and it didn’t matter, but the number of stones had changed. There were lifetimes when she thought she had lost some—or, in one lifetime, gained some. For someone whose memories were so clear, it was odd that she could not remember these details clearly.
“Show me yours,” she said.
Haven drew his sword from the sheath across his back. He shook his head as he looked it over. Nara looked for a hint of magic. She had seen something while they stood in the ice to face those creatures, those snow-white rodents the size of bears. It had shimmered, she thought, looking it over as he held it out now. The firm handle, the beautiful curved blade, the sharp point. Despite knowing that he had used it so many times, and that it had belonged to his father before him, it did not appear to have been used at all. The fine blade was sharp; there were no nicks or dents or damage of any kind.
She put her hand to the cool metal, unsure if it was cool because of the cold that surrounded them or because of something inside of it.
The world was different every time they returned, and she was comfortable with that. There was a certainty in the other things that she had in each new life—such as Haven and his sword, her sword and her mother’s stones. The same certainty those things had given previously seemed as foreign as the surroundings in that moment.
The life they were living again and again was not the one she had thought, and the monsters they hunted out suddenly didn’t seem so dire, so urgent as they had. There was too much they had thought real that no longer made any sense. If any of it was as she thought it was.
“There is someone behind this,” she blurted as a loud cry echoed around them, her voice lost to whatever creature was calling. She wondered if Haven’s idea of a nest made sense, if there were some larger creature hunting them out, or if they were hunting it out and had found some wild offspring instead.
Haven shook his head, but she was unsure if it was in response to her comment or to the sound surrounding them. Her head rang with the noise as it died away. She looked about, searching for something that the sound would have bounced off. Was there a ravine? Could they not make out what they were standing in due to the snow, the ice, the cloudy sky?
“Where are we?” she asked.
He looked down at her, having looked around himself, but it was as though he could not understand why they were there, let alone where. He had been so distracted when they’d first found each other. Was he still thinking of what the world might be?
“Haven?”
“Mmm,” he murmured. He was looking around again, rather than at her.
“I’m right,” she whispered, and he nodded, although he wouldn’t have heard her as the sounds of the world around them erupted again.
It was as though the whole world were tipping. Nara was sure she felt the ground vibrate beneath her. The sound was somewhere between a cry of pain and a growl. Something frightening, as though the creature behind it was more than huge—enormous. She glanced back the way she thought they had come. Those creatures they had already encountered were large enough, and she had nearly been crushed by one. It had a hide thick enough that her lightning had done nothing to slow it down.
Her bright sword was strong, but she doubted it was long enough to pierce the heart of a creature bigger than those she had already faced. She understood that whatever this might be, it was far bigger than they would be able to handle.
The ground continued to rumble around her, and she clung to Haven so that she wouldn’t fall over. The sound became more and more overwhelming, although she could not determine where it was coming from. It might have been from the creature running towards them—or it was burrowing beneath them and would suddenly spring out from the ground, as the others had.
Nara started to back up, but she knew that would not help her. If it was as large as she feared, it could swallow her before she knew it was there. Before she could do anything about it.
Haven had not moved, remaining stock-still where they had stopped. She tugged at his sleeve. His only response was to shake his head. She feared then that the sound might have done something to him, as the Mer song had done with her. She feared it was inside his head, confusing him, making it difficult for him to think clearly.
“Haven?” she asked. The sound dropped away as suddenly as it had started, and the world settled around them into an odd silence.
She took a step closer, her boots squeaking in the snow, the sound drawing his attention. He looked at her as though just realising she was there.
Tears sprang to her eyes before she could think about the danger in this cold environment. She tried to sniff them back, but they were already freezing on her face. She put her numb hands to her face and closed her eyes. This was going to be difficult, whether because she understood things were not as she thought them to be or because the creatures in this world were far larger and more frightening than any they had faced before.
It was Haven’s distance that was hardest to deal with. They only had each other. They had only had each other in all the lives they’d lived. And she missed him more standing beside him than she did beneath the fire tree.
She stepped back from him as she moved her hands away from her damp face. He was looking beyond her as though studying the surroundings. She wondered if they would at least hear these creatures coming.
Closing her eyes, Nara pushed her fingers over them and felt ice forming on her lashes. They needed some shelter, or this life would be very short indeed. But was she looking for herself or dragging a man with her whom, for the first time, she couldn’t understand what he was thinking or where he wanted to be?
Wiping at her face with the fur cuff of her sleeve, Nara tried to calm her breathing. She wasn’t thinking clearly, and it wouldn’t help either of them. Not when they couldn’t clearly see their enemy. She looked around, thinking of the term. These creatures were not their enemy—they were just that, creatures, causing damage and harm but not always thinking of what they did. Although the Mer in her last life had been something very different. They had not just been taking the essence of men; they had been there for her.
There was something behind this, something stronger than either of them realised, something watching and waiting for an opportunity to get at them. She hadn’t lived long enough in her first life to create any enemies, and they hadn’t interacted with enough people in their lives since to have created any more. But someone wanted them. Someone wanted her. And whether that was to kill her again or finally, she didn’t know.
Glancing at Haven now, she had the oddest feeling that it wouldn’t matter if this was the final life, if she was taken from him and they were separated forever. Whether beneath the fire tree or in some afterlife in the clouds like she had imagined as a child for her mother, Nara had the feeling that Haven wouldn’t miss her, wouldn’t search for her with the same desperation she would if he were taken from her.
“I am going to look for shelter,” she murmured, turning away from him and heading across the snowy plain alone. With her sword in hand, Nara glanced around the white expanse before her, trying to reflect the sun away. If she could find another glassy surface, she might be able to tell if there was something more than what she was seeing.
She tugged at the hood over her head, pulling it closer around her face and creating shade from the glare of her surroundings. She would love a dark cave or tunnel just to take the pressure from her eyes. It was so hard to search in the blinding white.
Something squeaked behind her, and for half a heartbeat she thought she had been found by whatever force might be searching her out. The sound kept pace with her. Was there someone else behind all this, someone wanting her—Manning’s father, if that were possible? Or was it something else? Had people heard of them? They did meet people, after all, when they saved the occasional village. Nara usually thought people assumed them dead after they went off to face some monster.
She stopped and swung around to find Haven a step behind her. He was looking across the landscape rather than at her, and he walked right into her. He stopped, blinked, and then looked down at her.
“What do you see?” he asked, his attention immediately back on the surrounding landscape.
She shook her head rather than answer.
He took her by the arm and guided her to continue in the direction she was going. Although she had no idea of where she was going or whether it was safe or not. His hand was too tight around her arm, but she didn’t say anything, didn’t ask him to let her go. How could she have thought he didn’t care? He was just as worried as she was, trying to find what they couldn’t see in the landscape around them.
She should have the stones in her hand, she thought, reaching for the pouch. She tipped them hurriedly into her hand, and Haven took her sword so she could rub them between her palms. The squeaking sound they made as they rubbed over each other seemed to fill the world around them. Nara looked up, wondering if they were in fact in some large domed world.
“Sunshine?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.” And there was nothing—no hint of danger, no indication that the end was close. Nothing pointing them to where they should be going. She turned slowly, Haven moving with her as though looking for the danger, the direction they should be going in. There was no hint at all from the stones.
“Is there anything here at all?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” He sounded defeated. “Something makes me feel nervous, more nervous than when I know death is close, but I can’t see it. I can’t work out where it is or why.”
“Do you know when you will die?” she asked.
He looked down at her, studying her face for the first time since they had arrived in this life. “Only when you do,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into a sad sideways smile. He brushed his fingers over her skin, his brow creasing.
“I haven’t seen anything,” she said.
“Your face is red, as though you have been burnt.” He ran his fingers over her cheek again.
She thought she was cold, but perhaps it was more.
She looked up into his brilliant blue eyes and across his cheeks exposed between the edge of the hood and his neat beard. He was not red at all.