Navi
“To anyone who may read this, the last writing of my life, it must be known that I fought for my country alongside my beloved husband, Eri, and my dear friend Ama. Beside my commanders, I defended my city with all breath left in me. My kingdom may fall, but the Empire will soon burn at the hands of the Sun Queen.”
—A message from King Tavik Amaruk of Astavar, confiscated by invading imperial forces, September 6, Year 1018 of the Third Age
Navi could no longer keep quiet.
“We are cowards,” she murmured into the darkness, Ruusa’s torch the only thing illuminating their path through the tunnels below Dyrefal.
Beside her, Malik said nothing, his tense silence vibrating like the furious echo of a drum.
“You are not cowards,” Hob replied. In the torchlight, his dark skin gleamed, night-limned with gold. “You are the leaders of your people, and when the dust settles, they will look to you for guidance. They will find you, wherever you land in the days to come, and help you rebuild.”
“I should be out there fighting alongside them,” Malik bit out. “Not scurrying away through the darkness like a frightened rat.”
“And what good would it do, if you were to die?” Hob ducked beneath a low stone archway. “Two of the royal children dead, and the other three halfway across the world. No kings, no crown. A scattered people, lost and leaderless. It was right for you to leave.”
Navi leaned on Ruusa’s arm, closing her eyes. Her head rocked as if she stood on the deck of a rolling ship.
Ruusa passed her torch to another guard in their escort. “My lady, shall I carry you?”
“Not yet, Ruusa,” Navi replied. “We’ve a long way to go. Save your strength.”
“A long way to go.” Malik let out a bark of harsh laughter. “That’s one way to put it.”
Navi found Malik’s hand. “Peace, brother.”
He ripped his hand away from her. “Peace! Peace, as our people are slaughtered above us, as our parents give up their lives to allow us time to flee!”
Navi moved unsteadily toward Malik. He met her halfway, catching her arms.
“Navi, you can barely even walk,” he muttered.
“Listen to me.” She searched his face. The glittering sadness in his eyes seized her heart. “I know what you’re feeling. I feel it myself. But we cannot allow ourselves to fall prey to our own shame.”
Malik shook his head. “Navi, I can’t bear to leave them—”
“I know, but we must.” She cupped the back of his head in her hands, brought his forehead down to touch hers. “This war is not only about the fate of Astavar, and we can’t help Eliana if we are lying dead on a battlefield.”
“Eliana.” Malik spat a curse. “She brought this down upon us.”
Navi frowned. “She saved us all, that night in Karajak Bay. She sank the Empire fleet.”
“Which ended up meaning nothing.” He flung his hand toward the ceiling. “Listen to them, Navi. Listen to our people die. Listen to our kingdom fall. If she hadn’t come here—”
“If she hadn’t come here, we would have fallen weeks ago. And you won’t speak ill of her again, not in my presence. She is on a more difficult path than any of us. I can only pray that, wherever Harkan has taken her, she is able to enjoy a little bit of peace before they find her again.”
Malik gave her a sad, tight smile, but before he could speak further, dull booms thundered overhead, muffled by the dense stretches of rock above them. Malik tried to move away, dragging a hand across his face with a small sob, but Navi held him fast.
“Astavar may fall,” she said quietly, “but its people will live on, and as survivors flee and scatter, you and I will be fighting to save them, and their Venteran brothers, and their Celdarian sisters.” She drew a deep breath, her energy nearly exhausted. “Tell me what we will do.”
After a long moment, Malik managed to speak. “We will flee south, to the Vespers.”
“And then?”
“We will gather allies as we travel.”
“We will collect the lost and the homeless, as many as we can care for, as many as our ship can hold. And we will find more ships, and our numbers will grow, and then none of us will be lost or homeless any longer, for we will have made a new home of our own, a new country.”
“We will have built an army to crush the Empire,” Malik added, his voice stronger now, more assured.
Navi nodded, her heart bursting with love for him. Their fathers’ farewell kisses lingered on her brow. If she inhaled deeply enough, she could still smell Ama’s perfume on her clothes.
To honor their sacrifice, she wrestled her tears into submission. They could rise later. “The Empire’s foothold in the islands is not as strong as it once was. We may be able to unseat them, if not in Tava Koro, then on one of the smaller islands.”
“They’ll be distracted, looking for Eliana.”
“Quite likely.” She gripped Malik’s soft black hair, anchored him to her eyes. “We will rally the Vespers to our cause. We will gather ships, weapons, soldiers. And when Eliana is ready to destroy the Emperor—for she will, she will destroy him, I believe that with my every breath, my every waking hope, dear brother—when she is ready, we will be there, with our army of strays, and we will be at her side, and we will not let her fall.”
Malik closed his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks. “We are not cowards.”
“No. I was wrong to have said that.” Navi stepped back from him and looked at each of her guards in turn. “We are the light against the darkness, and we must continue to burn brightly, so others may find their way out.”
Last of all, she met Hob’s gaze. He nodded once and then said, “May the Queen’s light guide us.”
Navi said a quick, silent prayer that she would not only live long enough to once again fight at Eliana’s side, but also to see Hob and Patrik reunited. Not once since he had left Patrik weeks ago at Crown’s Hollow had Hob complained about how this fight had separated him from his love, but Navi saw the quiet grief in every line of his face, heard it in every word he uttered.
She touched his arm and offered him a small smile, which he returned with shining eyes.
“May the Queen’s light guide us,” she agreed, and then, unsteady, refusing Ruusa’s silent offer of aid—at least for a little while, at least for a few quiet yards on her own two reborn feet—she turned away from her home for what she knew in her heart would be the last time and sent a silent prayer to whatever ravaged vestiges of the empirium remained in the world.
Find her.
Protect her.
Help her believe.