27

It was an effort to crack open her eyes and a voice in her head told her to just relax, keep them closed. Just a little longer. Until reality came crashing down and panic flooded through her. Sabi rocketed up, confused and disoriented, and for a second had no idea where she was.

Air left her lungs. Every gasp was blank, filling her with nothing but the desperate attempt to breathe again. There was nothing familiar about her surroundings and she struggled to remember what she was doing the last time she was awake. A gull cawed outside followed by the dull swoosh of rushing ocean. An image of the bay came to her, its coast an expansive smile stretched out in front of her. Muscles screamed at the memory and Sabi cursed nature for giving them horses.

The room was lit with muted light creeping through gaps in the shuttered windows. She flipped the blanket off of her and a film of dirt stayed stuck to her skin. Still in the clothes she’d traveled in, she moaned. Everything needed to be burned.

Just to push herself up made her arms shake. The next step was to stand, but even the slightest pressure on her feet made her want to collapse. Her back was a cluster of knots that hunched her over. In one quick movement she straightened herself and listened to the melody her bones played as they snapped, crackled, and popped. She couldn’t have been stiffer if she were made of stone.

Slowly, with one precarious step after another, Sabi made her way to the bedroom door, a ninety-year-old trapped in a sixteen-year-old body. Never in her life did she have to work out again.

A clang resounded from the floor below and she flinched, clinging to the wall for support. She closed her eyes against the reverberations and let the noise settle into her bones, letting it sink in that it was probably a pan and not some kind of medieval torture device.

She pushed herself away from the wall, determined to at least hold herself up, and continued to shamble down the hallway. At the end was a set of stairs leading down into the light, brighter than she’d seen when she woke up. Pressing her palms into the wall as she took one tentative step after another, she traveled down, her breath hitching with every flex of her muscles.

Stepping off the final step was like stepping outside. Instead of windows two walls were accordioned off to either side of the room, leaving a cobbled fireplace in the corner and a view of the ocean behind it. Chairs and couches were made of weathered wood tossed with overstuffed cushions ready to be sunk in to. A short stack of books sat on the table and a heavy-looking blanket draped over a chair. Leaves and flecks of dirt scattered in on the wind but it looked a part of the rustic décor instead of dirt that needed to be swept away.

Out the openings tall grass swayed in the middle distance and Sabi watched as a wave rose up and crashed back down, disappearing behind the curtain of green. Brine and sun-toasted sand drifted to her nose on the breeze. Despite the ache she inhaled deeply, soaking in the sea in front of her.

Her fingers found her eyes and rubbed, letting the heels of her hands dig deeper as she groaned into the movement, shoving away all the tired.

Somewhere behind her wood scraped against wood and she got the vague impression someone said her name. Wood creaked under feet as they scuffed over to her. She had barely turned around, the ocean air just flitting against the back of her neck, when arms wrapped around her and a heavy sigh of warm breath brushed against her shoulder.

“You slept so long I thought you’d starve.”

The words were muffled into the crook of her neck and all of a sudden it struck her like something long forgotten. The soft-skinned, sugar-smelling person wrapped around her was Anya, cleaned up, scrubbed down, and not nearly as dazed as Sabi was. Sabi’s arms were around the girl before the thought was even finished. The way the knobs of her spine thudded against her hands, the edges of her hips digging into hers, this was Anya.

Anya pulled away and took Sabi’s breath with her. This Anya was downright stunning. Shadows still clung to the edges of her face, but the bags under her eyes were checked somewhere else, leaving behind glittering blue eyes that smiled so hard creases spider-webbed from the corners, making her look older than she really was.

She was still ghostly pale but no longer a sick ward gray. Anya smiled wide and brushed her fingertips along Sabi’s forehead. When she laughed Sabi smelled mint and honey and her eyes watered.

She couldn’t help but gape, frowning up at Anya as she pressed her fingers to the girl’s smooth cheeks, how shimmering her skin was. Her hands traveled up to Anya’s head and combed the growing blonde strands, feeling them slide between her fingers, watching as the short style shone in the filtered sunlight. Sabi stepped back and took in Anya’s clothes, looking like something she borrowed from Maris. Dark leather straps crisscrossed their way over her stomach, pressing a tunic against her skin and giving her the ever so slight illusion of breasts. The tunic stuck close to her body and covered her butt down to her thighs, where leggings took it the rest of the way into a pair of boots that looked about a size too big for her feet.

Anya brushed a hand through her short hair and fidgeted in Sabi’s silence. Her smile faded and her lips twitched before she spoke.

“Say something.”

“I need a shower.” To say she felt gross was the understatement of the year.

Anya just laughed. “You sleep for two days. I take baths.” She smiled at the memory. “So nice. I could live in one. Your family, they don’t make me do anything but rest.”

“We are torturers that way.” Varek’s voice was a pleasant sound that made Sabi turn to face him. “Good to see you finally awake, Niece. The healer advised we let you wake naturally.”

Sabi pointed to the room she just lumbered out of. “I’ve been up there for two days?”

“Not to worry,” he said as he walked closer. “The world is still under foot.”

“I find that hard to believe. I didn’t think Jeviar was that far behind us.”

Varek’s face went solemn and then cleared of all emotion. “We’ve received word that sunset will see them at our borders. We’re to meet them there.”

“So the world will probably drop out from under us soon, huh?” Sabi tried to keep her voice light, but hooks of dread fastened to every letter’s curve and pulled them down. This was it.

“Perhaps.” He reached out his hand and grasped her elbow lightly, almost as if he were afraid to hurt her. “Shay heard you wake and drew you a bath. Anya will show you.”

Anya wrapped her arm around Sabi’s shoulders. Varek’s fingers slipped away and his footsteps trailed behind them, leaving Anya to guide her through the lower level of the house. Cooked meat smell made her mouth water before they even walked through the kitchen. A pan sat on a wooden butcher’s block and three plates holding various stages of eaten food littered a picnic table. Another door led them into a sort of mudroom where soiled clothes hung on hooks.

One more doorway led them to the washroom where a man was just coming out carrying a couple pails that clanged as he shuffled past them in the narrow space. He fired off a hurried ‘afternoon’ before scooting out of sight. The room was tiny but functional, a proper-sized tub at the far wall with steam curling up from the water. It was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.

Until the pressure on her shoulders reminded her that Anya was still next to her and she was more of a dream than Sabi could have imagined. Heat flared in her cheeks and the temperature in the room spiked.

Sabi stepped away from Anya’s reach and turned to face her. The words struggled to gain footing on her tongue and she only stood there gaping, occasionally glancing back to the steaming tub. Anya didn’t miss a beat. She only smiled a smile that made Sabi’s shame fizzle, reached out to squeeze her fingers, and headed out of the room.

Before she carried on back to the kitchen she turned to Sabi and said, “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Sabi smiled and nodded, hoping she looked genuinely happy when every muscle in her body throbbed sadness. Anya smiled back, looking nowhere near as pained, and left her in a trail of sweet flowers.

She couldn’t pull the tunic over her head fast enough and flung it across the room even faster. In a few quick strides she was at the tub with a leg over the edge. Air hissed between her teeth as she inhaled but she dipped in, letting the water swallow her one joint at a time. Inch by inch she lowered herself, wincing against the heat but welcoming it all the same.

By the time all her scrubbing and washing was done the water was a murky brown and Sabi lifted herself out of it faster than she lowered herself in. It wasn’t just weeks of grime sullying the tub; it was memories of their run, the Void, her pain, the pain she caused others. Deaths.

Water pooled around her feet as she patted down with a towel. When she wrapped the towel around herself she noticed that the bathroom lacked a mirror. Probably a good thing. From where she stood the poking hip bones and ribs pushing from her chest were clear enough. She didn’t need to see sunken cheeks and black-rimmed eyes on top of that. Or how dead her eyes might have gotten.

Clothes folded in a neat little pile were soft to the touch. Much like Anya’s outfit, it was modest, like a novice’s gi before she earned the appropriate uniform. It was a dream pulling them on, finally feeling clean for the first time in weeks.

Muffled voices crept across the empty kitchen and she slowed her pace, trying to listen without giving herself away, but a creak underfoot killed the murmur and silence overwhelmed the room. Heavier footsteps followed before Varek’s face appeared in the doorway.

“Good. You are ready then?”

His face was unreadable, but Sabi swore the hint of a smile turned up the corner of his mouth. Of course it was gone in a blink, leaving her to wonder if it was a hallucination.

“For what?” she asked, reaching her hands for back pockets that weren’t there.

“For you to see home. Shay and Anya are mounting now.”

Sabi’s heart surged as images of New York overwhelmed her before the thought bubble deflated in a high-pitched hiss. He meant her original home, the house that existed only in her mind. Except it didn’t. It was farther along the bay and waiting for her.

“We must go,” Varek said when Sabi stood mute and still. “We have much to do before the sun sets and daylight is wasting.”

Sabi nodded, took a step forward, and stopped. She willed her foot to move but it stayed rooted firmly to the ground. Seeing that house meant making everything real. Any chance of waking up in New York with a bad headache would be gone. Her entire life would be one full circle, bringing her back to her real beginning, not her made up one that, until a few months ago, was true. With everything else she didn’t know if she could let this last shred of the life she knew slip away. But maybe that was the point; give her closure so she could move on to fulfill a new purpose.

She looked up at Varek and despite the kindness in his eyes there was a hardness etched into the lines around them. Years of pain carved line by line into his skin like rings on a tree. She saw them as if they were labeled. Despite the niceties he and Shay offered, there was still that little piece of him that knew she was responsible for his daughter’s death, however indirectly that was.

That thought pushed her feet forward and her uncle rested a hand across her shoulders when she walked by. His empathy was overwhelming, like a sack of bricks on her back. She tried to hide her deep sigh but he knew just as much as she did that he could feel her body move with the breath.

Sabi allowed him to lead her through the house since most of it was only vaguely recognizable. She would have sooner wandered out the open living room than taken the time to find the front door.

The sun nearly knocked her back when she stepped outside and she had to raise her hand to shield her eyes against the glare.

“It’s wonderful to see you awake,” Shay said as she pulled on the horse’s reigns to steady it. “We’ve been prepared for this since Varek laid you on the bed.”

Shay’s smile was as bright as the sun and Sabi found it hurt to look directly at her.

“That would explain the bath and dash,” Sabi said as she watched Varek mount his horse. The thought of climbing up after him made her muscles scream.

“Yes and we do apologize. If you hadn’t woken up when you did we would have had to take it upon ourselves. Lucky for us that didn’t happen.

“Come, Sabi,” Anya called to her from behind Shay. “You get to see home. Your real home.” Anya pointed to Varek whose hand was stretched out to her, waiting.

Anya sounded more excited than Sabi about this. Maybe because she’d already had her piece of happiness despite how murderous that was. Now it was Sabi’s turn, but she didn’t think Anya realized what she was facing. Or maybe she did and that little piece of her still left, who punched Sabi in the face when she was first tossed into the cell, wanted what Varek did: just a little piece of closure from the girl who caused so much pain. Despite the love and welcome and caring, that was still a stain marring the peace.

She let her hand fall into Varek’s and he lifted her onto the horse. Her muscles groaned with the memory of the horse shape they formed, but she swallowed it down. Yeah, she was stiff and sore and could probably sleep another week, but it wouldn’t make this new reality go away. It wouldn’t turn the world into a dream or fill in the Sickness scars on the faces of all those children.

She turned around and looked out at the ocean, unblemished by smog or soot or ships, and shivered as a breeze crawled across her skin. Despite the sun’s warmth her veins turned to ice as the horse clopped forward and her real home got a little closer.