Part Of Me Died Last Night

Llew kept falling asleep, her arms slipping from Jonas’s shoulders. She didn’t want to fall asleep. There was work to do.

She found herself rousing with her head in Jonas’s lap, where his bloodied knife also lay, its dull edge at the top of her head, while his hand rubbed her shoulder in an effort to soothe. She no longer feared that knife, not while it was in his possession. The blood still on it, though, was too close to Braph himself and a chill went through her at the thought. Llew pushed herself back and met Jonas’s gentle smile.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” His eyes were still haunted, a sadness lingering in that smile.

Llew did need to sleep. She needed to eat, too. She glanced over her shoulder to where Karlani still lay. The Syakaran would’ve ensured Llew didn’t go hungry. The Syakaran who had held Llew down while Aris killed her unborn children. The woman who had thought it funny to shove Jonas to the ground and kill Llew, and had temporarily paid the ultimate price for such entertainment, and learned from it. Llew believed that. She truly believed Karlani would’ve redeemed herself with time. Braph had taken that opportunity from her.

And Sam … Llew’s eyes heated with threatening tears as she let her gaze rest on his crumpled form. All Sam had known was a cage, conscription before he was even born, and the dream of a better future for such a short time. He should’ve achieved it, he deserved that much. Her tears were held back by a rage directed at Braph.

Skirting around his leather-encased form, she looked upon the body of Orin, her half-brother. A part of her acknowledged that as fact and mourned that they hadn’t known each other as siblings, while another part placed the label “half Braph” on him, injecting a dispassionate distance between them. It was a strange place in which to sit, and not for the first time she wished she could return to the banks of Cheer’s Big River and simply worry about her next meal and how to keep herself clothed. A simpler time.

“I think Braph was right in that,” Jonas murmured. “I think the risk of an Immortal becomin’ someone like Braph is too great.”

Llew turned to him. He was saying that their own children should not have lived. How could he say such a thing? Could he be right?

“I know,” he said, his own expression pained. “I won’t pretend it was good, and maybe it wasn’t right. He was just a kid, but he killed you, Llew. And there was somethin’ … Even Braph feared him.”

Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or simply overwhelm; Llew burst into tears. She folded her arms on Jonas’s thighs and pressed her forehead to them as a mess of thoughts tumbled over themselves. She hadn’t really been ready for children but, if she wanted them, she would want them with Jonas, but if she had them with Jonas would they always pose a risk to the world? And Orin had killed her, and he was only a child.

Jonas’s hand warmed her shoulder again. “I’m sorry.”

Llew shook her head where it rested. She didn’t know what to think. Braph had been awful, and he’d been able to be so awful because he was Karan and had learned to be a magician. Or, he’d learned to be a magician because he was so awful and willing to do terrible things. Yes. Otherwise, there would have been magicians everywhere, decades earlier, wouldn’t there? And now Jonas could be a magician and do good. She wouldn’t thank Braph for it.

She was so tired, she could barely keep her thoughts straight. Who were they to decide who got to live or die? And yet, she could. She could choose not to heal someone if she didn’t want to. And Jonas had chosen, finally, to kill Braph. It was a terrible power.

Llew nearly succumbed to sleep again. And her stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten since before Braph arrived – since Karlani had brought her some bread and water – and the sun was nearly down.

She pulled herself together, sat back on her heels and dried her face with her sleeve. “Hungry?”

Jonas blinked back at her. “Uh, yeah. Starvin’, actually. Huh. I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Perhaps there is some bread left.” Llew stood and held out a hand for Jonas.

Rowan approached. “That was …” He glanced around at the four bodies then back at Llew. “Well, for a minute there I thought we were all dead, the way Braph just—” He gestured a vague explosion with his hands. “—Karlani and then Sam. Honestly, Sam didn’t even move, I thought Braph was going to look around at the rest of us and we’d drop just the same one-by-one. If you hadn’t come outside when you did …” He shook his head.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get out earlier,” Jonas said.

Llew turned a scowl on him. “Don’t do that. Braph is to blame. You did all you could. He set the rules, you beat him, that’s all that matters.”

“Yes, Cap’n.” Despite everything, Jonas managed a smirk.

“Don’t you forget it.” She may not have had all the answers, but she knew what they needed in that moment. Food and sleep. “I suppose Turhmos may send more troops yet.”

“Always a possibility.” Garnoc came to stand beside Rowan. “There are still enough of us to keep an eye on the road and a couple of other watchers just in case they come from a different angle. The rest of us should be able to catch some sleep.”

“What about them?” Rowan indicated the bodies with a sweeping arm.

“Sam and Karlani can wait until tomorrow?” Llew asked. “I’m too tired to see them off properly.”

“If we get them off the ground, at least,” Jonas said.

“We can bring the cart around.” Rowan said. “Braph and the boy?”

“Burn them.” Llew shocked herself at her conviction, but she needed to know Braph wouldn’t rise again. She looked at Jonas. “Is that alright?”

Jonas shrugged. “It’s normal in Quaver.”

They nibbled day-old bread, salty bacon, and hastily scrubbed carrots. Then, in a daze of fatigue, the farm settled to action. Karlani and Sam were laid out in Ard’s cart, a tarpaulin spread over them, ready to move them to the farm’s cemetery in the morning, then they built a pyre in an empty paddock, placed Braph and Orin over it, and lit it just as darkness fully set in. Llew couldn’t help but imagine Braph rising still, even as flames engulfed him. She was so tired, and yet she could not turn her back. Others who had been awake all night and day headed for their beds. Those who had napped when Jonas did agreed to keep first watch.

When only Llew, Jonas, and Rowan remained watching the magician and his son burn, Rowan turned to Jonas. “Garnoc said you’d used some inches in your sleep last night. Better take a look, eh?”

Jonas unbuckled and slid Hisham’s knife vest off, and turned so Rowan could inspect his back. Llew hadn’t caught a glimpse. Though she was heartened to see the pink glow reflecting off Rowan’s face, she moved around for a better view herself.

When Jonas had headed for bed after a full night of tattooing, every inch of skin within the interior of the parts of the black gryphon that covered his back had been filled with shiny pink, along with an inch-wide outline. The outline was gone, along with much of the pink interior. She looked to Rowan for his assessment. His eyes narrowed in scrutiny, giving nothing away until he was ready to announce it. His shoulders slumped, and so did Llew’s.

“I think we had better add to this before you sleep. Just to be sure.” Rowan looked to Llew as Jonas turned to face them both. “You might as well get your sleep. We’ve got a small stockpile I can load him up with and then we can get back into rhythm tomorrow, once everyone has had at least one decent sleep, eh?”

Annoyingly practical as he was being, Llew couldn’t argue. Jonas looked well over-tired, too, but he couldn’t risk sleeping without magic on board to keep him alive.

The orange glow of the fire flickered across both Jonas and Rowan’s faces.

She drew Jonas into a hug. So close, yet so far.

***

Llew woke to Jonas’s arm draped over her waist, pulling her tight against him, and when she stirred it was evident he had been awake for some time already. He released her to allow her to roll to her back and pushed himself up on an elbow. The haunted look from the night before no longer lingered as he smiled down at her then leaned in to brush his lips across hers.

“Mornin’. Welcome to the rest of your life.”

She grinned back at him, and reached up and hooked a lock of hair behind his ear. “Are you really sad he’s gone?”

“No.” Jonas brushed hair from Llew’s forehead, but it just fell back where it had been. They both laughed. Jonas grew solemn again. “No. That Braph hurt too many people, you worst of all.” His gaze traveled all over her face, his fingers combed her hair. “There was just this part of me, naïve, I guess, that had held out hope. That part of me died last night.”

With a gentle tug on his head, Llew urged him to rest his ear over her hear and hugged him.

Others were well awake, the kitchen its usual hub of morning activity with coffee brewing, eggs boiling, and smashed potatoes frying.

Llew absently toyed with Jonas’s hair. The dream of the simplicity of her life back in Cheer blended with having this man in her life shimmered in her imagination. Two lives that would never intertwine in reality.

Would she really wish to swap this mattress for a blanket on river stones? Stones and solitude. No, she didn’t miss it so much. Perhaps she had been softened by the luxury of a mattress and a solid roof overhead, but she had hardened in other ways. She had now wielded two Syakara as her blade. One had died, and one lay beside her dying slowly only insofar as she kept him supplied with her blood. Of course she would willingly continue to do so, but she couldn’t deny a reluctance to return to the base of the Ajnai and the Gravinator.

At her sigh, Jonas raised himself, looking at her with a concerned scowl.

“I suppose the world doesn’t stop while we lie here.” She smiled wryly.

“Sadly, no.” He leaned in to kiss her nose then freed himself of the blankets and swiveled his leg over the edge of the bed. Whether he’d intended to or not, he gave Llew a clear view of his back, of the black swirls, olive skin, and thin hints of pink.

“How—? How do you feel?” she asked, keeping her voice calm.

He looked over his shoulder at her, that scowl back in place. “Fine …?” He inhaled as if planning to elaborate, released the breath, and inhaled again. “How bad is it?”

“Whatever Rowan tattooed into you last night, it was only just enough.” Llew kept her tone matter-of-fact, but didn’t bother to think about how she looked to him. If she looked fearful, she was. If she looked anxious, she was.

She clambered up and they dressed in silence. They didn’t bother with Jonas’s prosthetic, and he lumbered into the kitchen on crutches.

Lyneth and Elka sat at the table already chopping vegetables, adding them to a simmering stew for the midday and evening meals. Llew almost expected Karlani to appear at the door to make sure she ate breakfast, but of course she wouldn’t. Never again. Llew fought against the lump rising in her throat and tears pricking her eyes. There would be plenty of time to cry. First, they had to reassess their new situation and set new plans and expectations. Ones that didn’t include Karlani, or Sam.

“Good morning,” Lyneth greeted them cheerily, barely glancing up from her work. “Did you sleep well?”

Elka gave them a tentative smile, and her gaze lingered on Jonas’s bare chest.

“Yes, I did.” Llew had been too tired to do otherwise. “You?”

Lyneth glanced at Elka. “A little unsettled.”

“Oh?”

Elka freed her gaze and glanced off into the darker recesses of the kitchen. “I had dreams of. Of people collapsing. Like Karlani. Like S— Sam.”

Llew couldn’t forget, either. She was probably only spared from similar dreams by her total exhaustion. “Braph is dead. He can’t—” She’d almost said he couldn’t hurt them anymore, but Jonas stood beside her, his bug-ravaged body a testament to the lie. “No one else can do what Braph did, well, except Jonas, I suppose, and he’s on our side.” She tried to make it jovial. A big part of her hated anyone having that kind of power, but she trusted Jonas not to hurt people as Braph had done.

Jonas gave her a side-eye, then gasped – almost under his breath – and slumped into his crutches.

Lyneth moved to his side, offering a shoulder for support.

Llew stepped outside, bellowing for Rowan, only to find him already stepping onto the porch.

“We need to get blood into Jonas, now,” she said.

Rowan looked surprised. “That bad?”

“That bad.” Llew held the door open so he could see Lyneth trying to help Jonas shuffle outside. He was close to a dead-weight hanging off her.

Grim, Rowan entered, hooked Jonas over a shoulder, and carried him outside and straight to the Gravinator. Llew followed, rested one arm in the cuff over the Gravinator, inserted her own needle, slipped her other hand through its cuff and pressed it to Ajnai bark. By the time she was all hooked up, Rowan had Jonas seated and the other needle inserted into him.

“This is going to be too slow,” Rowan said.

“I know.”

Rowan brought a thumb to his mouth, gnawed along the nail as he watched Jonas, who lifted his head languidly, like a drunk, and let it fall back against the tree.

“It took some time for you to heal after bringing Anya back to life.” Rowan lowered his hand and shifted his focus to Llew.

“I think that was because we were doing something I can’t usually do. I had taken her ghi. I wasn’t supposed to be able to give it back, but the tree let me.”

“You’re not supposed to be able to heal Kara, either.”

“I don’t. They do it themselves.” Llew watched Jonas, seeking some sign of improvement. There was none.

“Oh.” Rowan lightened. “And the Ajnai helps you to replace your blood at the same pace it’s taken?”

Llew nodded.

“We need to speed up the process, then. We have a couple of syringes we could press to service, of course, but it would be better if we could somehow do multiple direct connections, and maybe bring in a pump …” His eyes took on the faraway look of a man in thought, and he nibbled his lower lip. “I’ll get a couple of others drawing blood with the syringes in the meantime. Then I’ll have a hunt for things that might help. The farmer likely kept some spare plumbing we can modify.” He turned back to Llew. “Don’t despair entirely, yet.”

“I won’t.” She attempted to reassure with a thin smile. “So long as Jonas is breathing, I know there is still hope.”

“Then that’s our top priority.” He held up a hand and started unfolding one finger at a time as he counted. “One: keep Jonas, and hope, alive. Two: get him functional again. Three: build stores to fly you to your tree in Quaver. We’re going to be running a tight race, but we’ll give it everything. Now.” He glanced over his shoulder to the cart where Karlani and Sam lay. “What shall we do with them? We don’t have the benefit of Karlani’s strength and speed to dig a hole quickly. It’s going to take multiple people, and it’s going to take hours. Elka and Lyneth have got themselves in a good routine in the kitchen, and we have to keep everyone fed. You and Jonas are stuck, and I need to make something that’ll make this whole process a lot faster. That leaves …” He counted off his fingers again, silently this time. “Eight? Blink, Winnie, Ivor …” His voice trailed off as he counted again. “Eight. That doesn’t work. We want three on watch at any one time, at least, but they have to rest, and eight doesn’t divide into three …”

“Turhmos is a risk, but it’s all pointless if Jonas dies,” Llew said. “I can’t free the Aenuks without him.” Even if Jonas believed she could. What was she going to do? Return to Quaver and try to befriend some other Karan and talk them into accepting her blood? If they understood what they could do with it, they probably would accept it, but Llew doubted she’d get the chance to talk anyone around. Besides, not only would she have to try to build their trust, she would have to convince herself she could trust them not to turn into Braph. No. They had this one chance to change the future for Turhmos’s Aenuks, and that chance sat half conscious against the tree next to hers. “We have to beat Braph’s bug. We have to win that fight.”