Rasia perched atop the rocky mountain crest. The winding mountain range marked the beginning of scavenger territory and offered a view of the Graveyard, the gonda breeding grounds, and the dark waters of the Dragon’s Coast. When confronted with the vastness and sheer size of the Desert, some people felt small and humbled. But from this height, Rasia could reach out and touch every place she’d explored on her map and feel taller.
Or at least she used to.
Rasia had hiked all the way to the crest hoping it would make her feel better, but instead, for all the immense size of the Desert, she felt crushed. The air was noticeably too thin, making it harder to breathe. Knowing the disappointment waiting behind her and the impossible drop before her, she felt cornered. For a brief vibration, Rasia considered vaulting off the mountain to please the frantic panic clawing at her ribcage. But her bones were too strong for her not to turn around and see her mistakes to their bitter end.
Rasia gathered the pouch of figs and hunter berries and swung the fox corpse over her shoulder. She retreated down the steep, rocky path flattened by the hooves of mountain goats. The campfire glowed, an almost hazy light, as Rasia walked into the camp they’d established halfway up the mountain. At this elevation, they could spot any windship coming at them, be it Nico or scavengers.
Rasia approached Zephyr, who sat reading a rhythmic narration over Kai’s prone form. Rasia hefted the fox from her shoulder, then dropped her bags, and the bountiful figs spilled, rolling out. They weren’t pressed for food, but Rasia needed something to do. She crouched and scooped the purpling fruit back into her satchel. “How’s he doing?”
“I got more stew down his throat today.”
Rasia knew it wasn’t enough. Already, Kai’s frame had begun to wither. He’d been unconscious for two days on the lake and two days on the mountain. Nico had better hurry and get here soon.
“You should talk to him,” Zephyr suggested.
Rasia’s thoughts flashed to a memory seared behind her eyelids: Shamai-ta bleeding out, cradled in his kulani’s arms, a knife stabbed decisively into his chest. Rasia had arrived after it happened, but to this day, she dreamt of that blade going in. Kiba-ta made a choice, and Rasia had never forgiven her for it.
“I’ll go scout around. This is scavenger territory.” Rasia motioned to the fox and the additional results of her foraging. “Do with it what you will.”
“I never thought you to be boneless,” Zephyr flung at her fleeing back.
Rasia froze at the accusation. She twisted on her heel and glared at Zephyr. He stood sentinel over Kai, his tiny bound parchment clutched in his hands and his eyes red with exhaustion. Increasing hopelessness and too much time thinking carved tired lines into his face. Unlike Zephyr, Rasia refused to watch Kai waste away.
“What’s the point? Me talking to him won’t change shit. Nico is the only chance we’ve got.”
“I don’t know if she is,” Zephyr said quietly, uncertain.
“What are you talking about?”
“Nico is the one Kai ran away from. Who’s to say he won’t flee deeper into his mind? Nico is always frustrated by how he keeps secrets from her. Even she might not know how to wake him.”
Rasia had never considered that—that even Nico might not be enough.
Zephyr looked down at Kai, haunted. “I think it’s you. You’re the one he agreed to throw his Forging on. You’re the one who convinced him to hunt a dragon. Maybe you can convince him to wake up too. Rasia, you pulled him from the Lake of Yestermorrow. No one fully submerged in the waters has ever lived to tell the tale. That has to mean something.”
Rasia sneered. “It means the lake has a cruel sense of humor.”
“What if . . .” Zephyr paused and looked at her, that same dense look he’d been throwing her the past couple of days. “What if you’re his kulani?”
Rasia laughed. How absurd. “Of course, you’d be a damn romantic. There are plenty legends of kulani going into the waters after one another and never coming back out. It doesn’t mean shit.”
“I think it’s you. I think he’ll come back for you.”
“I already tried waking him up. It didn’t work.”
“You slapped and yelled at him. Talk to him.”
Rasia couldn’t vocalize why she couldn’t sit there and talk to Kai, for him never to respond. She couldn’t sit still in that desperation again, to be torn apart again, and infected with an anger that had throttled her the past two years. She couldn’t breathe sometimes for how angry she was. Sometimes she woke to it on her chest, and she’d have to run it out of her. But no matter what she did, it always returned to weigh her down.
“Zephyr, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You’re the one he has a flame for.”
“Yet it didn’t matter,” Rasia bit out. “He still chose Nico over me.”
It was mind-boggling. Rasia had never met anyone who so wholly denied himself what he wanted.
Rasia froze; an idea struck her.
Rasia raced down the mountain to the windship. She dropped down into the underbelly hatch and searched through the supplies to stop at the sight of the ilhan, sitting in a corner, never touched. Kai had made such a fuss over it, but he never played it and had hidden it behind the water barrels like an inconvenient eyesore.
Kai denied himself what he wanted.
Rasia grabbed the ilhan, carried it up the deck, and paused at the mast. She placed her forehead to tah’s name. She was so tired of losing people.
Rasia charged back to camp with the ilhan carried in both hands. When she got in hearing range, she yelled, “Wake the fuck up Kai! If you don’t, I’m going to break this thing. It’s important to you, right? Kenji-shi’s ilhan? I’m going to smash it.”
Rasia lifted the ilhan over her head, and all her anger and frustration and guilt gave her strength as she slammed it against the rocks with a mighty clang.
The strings snapped. The neck splintered in two. The gourd cracked. It dangled, off-note, and she raised it back up to bring it back down again.
“Stop!”
Kai woke up.