By midday, Finn had fully recovered. He walked alongside the path, quiet and pale and withdrawn. We had split Cyde’s provisions between us, and he carried the bulk of them, but he moved as if their weight meant nothing to him.
“You called it the path of grace?” said Osan.
I felt despondent and heartsore, stretched too thin between the horrors I had witnessed over the last few hours. We had passed through the grove and into another valley, where the path looped and twisted like the random scribbling of a child. It had rained again, and the sky remained overcast and drear.
Osan’s question startled me out of my thoughts; we had been walking in silence until then.
“It’s just a theory that Cyde had.” I cleared my throat. “About the people who occupied Aytrium before the Ascension.”
He frowned. “They made the path?”
“Possibly.” I considered for a moment. The conversation was moving in a dangerous direction. “From what I understand, the Eater’s people conquered the continent and drove out or killed its former inhabitants. The path is a relic of that time.”
“Huh,” said Osan. “That’s not history I’m familiar with.”
“Cyde researched it while she was Chief Archivist.” I pointed south. “I believe the path should extend all the way to those mountains.”
“And it repels Haunts?”
I could not help glancing at Finn. “It seems that way. When we were descending from Aytrium, I think we might have drifted over it before the wind pushed us back.”
“Which is why I…” Finn made a bitter gesture. “Well, why I had my episode.”
“At least we know the reason now,” said Millie.
He sighed.
“What’s at the end of the path?” asked Osan.
I tried to keep the tension out of my voice. “I’m not certain. I think it used to serve a spiritual purpose. It might lead to a place of worship, maybe a temple of some kind. I’m not sure it matters.”
Millie gave me a hard look.
“What?” I said.
“You’ve been hiding something,” she said.
“No, I haven’t.”
“What did Reverend Cyde mean when she said everyone might live or die by your success? Why was she already preparing to send you to Ventris before Celane found us? I’m not stupid, El. There’s more going on here than you’re telling us.”
They were all looking at me; Finn had stopped walking, Osan’s eyes were sharp. I pressed my lips together. I knew I needed to say something, but the excuses I had prepared evaporated from my mind. My behaviour had already been unfair; I could not keep up the pretence any longer.
“I’m trying to cure Finn,” I said slowly. “Reverend Cyde believed that there might be a way, and that it could lie at the end of this path.”
They reacted as I had anticipated they would. Initially with incomprehension, and then Millie’s face lit up with wild hope and relief. Osan was more guarded, almost mistrustful. Finn … Finn was angry. I held my head high.
“It’s not a guarantee,” I said. “But if there’s a way to fix you, then maybe the other Haunts—”
“You came down here chasing a fairy tale?” Finn’s eyes flashed. “That’s what really drove you to Ventris?”
“I have reason to believe Cyde was right.”
He swore and turned away, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at me.
“My visions showed me the temple,” I continued, refusing to back down. “I was meant to come here.”
“No,” he snarled. “You weren’t ‘meant’ to do anything. You could have stayed on Aytrium, away from all this shit, away from these Haunts. You could have been safe.”
“Yes, safe, with half the Order trying to eat me alive.” I folded my arms. “This goes beyond us, Finn. An end to Haunts would mean a waning of the Order’s dominance; Aytrium would no longer depend on Sisters for its survival. No more Renewals. No more martyrs. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I never asked for this.”
“But here we are.” I wished he would look at me. “And what if it works? What if I can stop what’s happening to you? I’m willing to fight for that.”
“Is it really possible?” Millie’s voice was husky with emotion. “How would it work?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I hope I’ll figure it out once we get there.”
“Still, there’s a chance?” She laughed breathlessly. “That’s something. You really think it’s possible?”
“Stop it, Millie,” snapped Finn.
She didn’t say anything else, but her eyes shone with a new fervour. Her hope was infectious; it buoyed me up and restored my determination. Maybe I could do it. Maybe this would really fix everything. As we continued down the path, Millie’s face occasionally broke into a smile, nervous and fleeting, like she was fighting to keep her expectations in check.
In contrast to his sister, Finn remained angry. He stalked ahead of us, with his shoulders raised and his muscles wound tight. I knew that he was ashamed of losing his temper, and that he needed time to think everything through. But Eater, I hated when he got like this. Finn had the slowest fuse of anyone I knew, but once he was mad, he turned stubborn beyond belief. Nothing I could say was going to make him see reason now. I could only give him space.
The landscape slowly came alive the further south we travelled. Small patches of muted green began to appear amongst the stony waste. High above, a flock of birds flew westwards, their cries drifting down on the breeze. With each step away from Aytrium, I saw more signs of animal life. A grey and yellow lizard sunned itself on a rock and watched us pass, its tongue flicking through the air. Fat locusts buzzed between straggly clumps of grass. Emergency protein, I thought with faint amusement. Maybe my work experience would come in handy, after all.
We followed the path until the sun sank behind Aytrium. The wind had chased the storm clouds across the sky, leaving only smeared orange streaks in the deepening blue. Pale stars appeared and grew steadily brighter as evening descended.
“We should stop,” said Osan.
The path widened at the base of a sheltered bluff, dry and out of the wind. My feet had been dragging for the last hour, and the temperature had dropped sharply with the sunset. I nodded and set down my bag.
“I think it’ll be another day, maybe two until we reach the mountains.” Osan cracked his shoulders and stretched. “Depends where the path runs.”
“And how fast we walk,” I said.
He snorted. “And how fast we walk.”
Finn, still grim-faced, moved off to collect tinder. Millie sighed and started unpacking her bag. When she caught my eye, she jerked her head toward her brother meaningfully. Talk to him. I gave a small shrug.
“There’s not much to burn around here, and it’s all pretty damp.” Finn carried a small stack of gnarled sticks to the edge of the path. He grimaced when he tried to move closer, and shook his head. “I can try seeing what lies up ahead; maybe there will be more vegetation.”
Millie took the sticks from him. “No, let me see what I can do with this first.”
He gave her a strained smile. “Make a lot of smoke, I suspect.”
She scoffed and crouched down beneath the overhang. I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders.
“Finn, a word?” I said.
We followed the path as it curved around the bluff. Finn had his hands buried in his pockets, and he hunched a little, like he was trying to hide his height. The remains of another stone wall—perhaps there had been a building here, long ago—stood alongside the path. He sighed and sat on top of it.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m being unfair, I know.”
“Do you really think I made the wrong choice by coming here?” I remained standing, but even seated, he was taller than me. “You saw that the Order was after me. It was only a matter of time.”
“I know. I know you’re right; it’s just that when I lost my grip on the Haunt, I felt … I don’t even know.” He swallowed. “You could have easily died today. And if you’re here because of me, that means you would have died because of me.”
I softened. “I told you: this goes beyond us.”
He dropped his gaze, miserable. His hair was growing back, I noticed. Still little more than stubble, but with time it would recover. A sudden feeling of tenderness washed over me.
“How are you feeling?” I murmured.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hungry is a bad answer, isn’t it?”
“Not the best. I can give you more space, if it might help.”
“No, I’m okay now.” He lifted his head again, and he did appear calmer, like some unresolved tension had been laid to rest. “Can you restore your lace again?”
My stomach clenched. “Only once more. I’ve tried to spread out consuming the sacraments, but I think I’m risking gorge sickness anyway.”
“You’re scared?”
“I’m more scared of Haunts.”
It might have been the light, but I thought the colour of Finn’s eyes changed. “I think they’re nearby. Be careful. They can’t come this close to the path, but if you stray, they’ll be ready.”
I shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around me. It was dead silent out here, and I suddenly felt acutely vulnerable. Too loud, too clumsy, too slow. Finn stretched his neck to one side and his mouth tightened.
“Is the transformation hurting you?” I asked. “Be honest.”
He was quiet, seeming to weigh his response. I waited.
“A little,” he said at last. “Mostly I’m numb. It’s like I’m losing the ability to feel—I can only sense. Or experience. I can’t really describe it, but there are a lot of ordinary sensations that are vanishing, while others grow much more powerful. And that’s not painful, necessarily, but it’s different.” He rubbed his neck, frowning. “Right now, I’m very conscious of the warmth you’re giving off and your smell. But I couldn’t feel the rain earlier, and I can’t taste anything.”
I absorbed his words.
“Not good, is it?” he said.
I shook my head. “No. But you can always talk to me. I don’t want you to face this alone.”
The rustle of wet grass startled me, but Finn did not react. I turned and saw that Millie was walking toward us.
“The fire’s burning,” she said. “Osan said you should come eat.”
A pot steamed over the flames, where Osan crouched and prodded the rehydrated beans with a spoon. He glanced up as we approached.
“We probably have a week’s worth of food,” he said.
“Enough to get to the mountains, then.” I took a cup out of my bag and held it out to him. Osan gave me an odd look.
“Yes,” he said. “That won’t be a problem.”
He scooped up beans and handed the cup back to me.
“I saw rivers while we were descending,” he continued. “With luck we’ll reach them before we run out of water.”
I nodded and carefully set the cup on the ground sheet to cool. Millie lowered herself down next to me, absently rubbing her hands together for warmth. Finn sat beside the bags, just beyond the glow of the firelight.
“Hard to believe we’re here, isn’t it?” said Millie. She stared up at the stars. “None of it feels real anymore.”
I offered her a corner of my blanket. She leaned against me, her head on my shoulder.
“I wonder if we’ll ever see Ceyrun again,” she said. “I’m thinking of Hanna and Daje. Not that I regret coming here; I just keep thinking that I should have said goodbye properly.”
I threaded my fingers between hers.
“You’ll see them again,” I said.
She drew the blanket tighter around us.
“Do you have anyone you left behind, Osan?” she asked. “If that’s not too personal?”
He smiled, and took the pot off the fire.
“I have friends, some family,” he said. “No romantic involvement, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“That’s definitely what she was asking,” called Finn. “My sister loves to pry. She made an occupation out of it, actually.”
Millie scowled. “At least one of us needed a regular income.”
I laughed.
“Don’t encourage him, El,” she said. “Besides, I don’t pry. I’m just a good listener.”
“A good listener with an unhealthy interest in other people’s business.”
“Shut up, Finn.”
He was laughing now too, and even Millie was trying not to smile. I picked up the cup and started eating. For a brief moment, things didn’t seem so bad. Just for a little while, I could almost forget what had happened, what still needed to happen. The fire crackled. Osan added another stick to the flames.
“Are you all right?” I asked him.
He looked at me, and again I had the sense that something was bothering him; he seemed closed-off and guarded. But he shook his head.
“I’m fine. It’s been a long day, that’s all,” he said. “And I suppose I’m wondering what Celane’s next move will be. I can’t help feeling she’s going to try something desperate.”
“But El’s out of her reach now, isn’t she?” said Millie. “The Order doesn’t have a way down to Ventris until Aytrium sinks.”
“If Cyde could build that vehicle, then so can Celane.” He stared into the fire, and the light flickered across his face. “But how quickly? She’s not going to give up on the Renewer’s power; it’s her only hope of saving the Order. And herself.”
My fleeting sense of comfort and security faded. I set down the cup half finished, my appetite gone.
“That’s not to say she’ll catch us,” Osan added quickly. “And I’m sure the Commander will be trying her best to get in Celane’s way. For all we know, that battle is already won.”
I tried to smile. “Maybe. And we have a long head start.”
But they’ll have Cats. And far more lace. Not to mention that if Celane was desperate before, she would be frantic now.
Millie nudged me. “We’ll get moving as soon as it’s light. For now, I think we should rest.”
I nodded, my mind still churning.
“I’ll keep watch,” said Finn. He rose to his feet. “It’s not like I’ll be sleeping anyway.”
“Do you want any company?” asked Osan.
“I’ll be fine. I might wander a little further, see if I can find more wood for the fire.”
Millie stacked the remaining tinder, and I helped Osan clean up the food and repack the bags for tomorrow. My thoughts kept spiralling back to Reverend Cyde and Lariel, wondering what I could have done differently, wondering what had happened to them. I kept hearing Cyde say that she was relying on me.
“Hurry up, El,” said Millie. “I’m getting cold.”
Osan spread out a second ground sheet on the far side of the fire. I lay down beside Millie and she curled up against me.
“You’re shivering,” she murmured.
The stars overhead gleamed bluish and bright; the clouds had all been swept away. Aytrium was wholly dark, blocking out the sky to the north.
“I’m sorry about Lariel,” I whispered.
She sighed.
“It was complicated,” she said. “And it ended a long time ago.”
“Still. I’m sorry.”
“She wasn’t always like that. She used to be wild, intense, but not—” Millie shook her head. “It’s not like I could ever forgive her for what she did to Finn, but I … I guess I just wanted her to say sorry.”
“I think she was trying to.”
“Maybe she was, but not to me. Get some sleep, El.”
The fire dwindled to dark red embers. Beyond, Osan lay on his side, facing the bluff. My body was tired, but my brain could not stop turning.
Make it count, Elfreda.
Was I strong enough? The mountains called to me, a faint aching, a kind of thirst. She was waiting to be made whole. I could smell flowers and feel the brush of her thoughts against mine. The closer we drew to the temple, the more she would rouse.
Finn returned and quietly restocked the pile of tinder. I watched him from under my eyelashes. He moved so carefully, trying not to disturb us. Millie’s breathing had grown even and slow, each exhale stirring the hair on my arm.
When he walked away down the path, I waited a few minutes. Then I eased away from Millie and tucked the blanket close around her. She slept on.
My heart beat faster as I padded beyond the ring of firelight. The air drew goose bumps over my skin.
Finn sat on the same wall he had occupied earlier in the evening.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
My breath created a cloud of fog in front of me.
“I love you,” I said.
His eyes widened.
“I love you.” My heart raced, but I did not look away. “I love you, and I never want to lose you.”
He rose and I kissed him, wrapping my arms around his neck and stretching to reach his mouth. He tried to speak, but I held him tighter. The chill of his skin seeped into me; the stubble on his scalp was rough beneath my fingers. I could feel the ridges of his spine and, inside his mouth, too many teeth.
He broke away. “El, no.”
“I’ve always wanted you,” I said, short of breath. “But if you don’t want—”
“Of course I do,” he said. “More than anything, but that doesn’t mean I’ll risk hurting you.”
I smiled. “To be honest, pain wasn’t really what I was after.”
He flushed. “El!”
“Too forward?”
He spread his hands helplessly. “I’m hardly even human anymore.”
“Liar.” I touched my mouth. Cold. “You’re still you, and I am still yours, and you are still mine. Please, Finn. Let me have this.”
“But what if I can’t control…”
“‘I know what I’m asking for.’” I grinned. With a single thread of lace, I reached for his mind. A question, an invitation. His eyes went wide.
“Oh, screw it,” he breathed.
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me, swallowing my delighted laughter. I discovered that, for all that the transformation had cooled his skin, he still had a little warmth left for me.