The Other Side of the Sky - Amie Kaufman Page 0,149

is gone, and with it, Inshara’s sky-steel barrier.

Nimh has vaporized the river.

THIRTY-THREE

NIMH

Head spinning, body aching, stars bursting in front of my eyes, all I can do for long breaths is lie there, face against the stone. Then I remember what I felt through the searing pain of mist against my skin, through the gut-wrenching effort of holding myself intact.

Jezara.

Reeling, I drag myself forward until I can see her where she’s slumped in someone’s arms, breath rattling in her throat. Techeki—the Master of Spectacle—is there, holding her. “Jeza,” he murmurs, pressing against the wound as blood flows around the spear shaft and his fingers and becomes a crimson stain spreading across the purple mantle.

I murmur at Techeki to move, reaching for Mhyr’s Sunrise and my vial of thicksweet, my eyes on Jezara’s wound as I try to think how to remove the spear without killing her. But the former goddess gives a shake of her head, her eyes swinging up toward mine. “No, child.” Her lips quiver, a weak attempt at a smile. “I was the goddess of healing, remember? I know when a body’s wounds are beyond the help of magic.”

I grit my teeth, fingers tightening around the vial of thicksweet. “I must try.”

Jezara’s smile fades and her eyebrows draw together. “If I don’t wish to spend my last moments breathing the scent of burning flesh, feeling the grate of broken bone on bone, that is my choice.”

My every instinct tells me to ignore her wishes, to keep fighting. But I look at her face again and fall silent.

Her eyes unfocus, lips working soundlessly as if in confusion. Then her body tenses as she coughs again, the sound thick and wet this time, blood staining her lips a bright, garish crimson.

“She’s such a little thing,” she murmurs to the air. Then her gaze floats past my face without recognition, past North’s, back to Techeki’s again. “You’ll look after her, won’t you?”

Techeki brushes a lock of her hair back, settling it gently behind her ear. “I always have, Divine One. I always will.”

“Such a little thing,” Jezara repeats, her voice almost dreamy. “I wonder if it’s my fault, her being called so young… .”

Understanding dawns, and I swallow hard. This time when I glance at Techeki, his eyes meet mine for an instant before returning to the face of his old friend and goddess.

“She will do well,” Techeki tells her, eyes wet with tears. “And I will look after young Nimhara, I promise you.”

Jezara starts to turn her head when her eyes find me and halt there, sense and understanding draining away. “You seem familiar, child… . Will you hear my blessing?”

I feel a tear slip down my cheek and splash onto my hand. Swallowing hard, I nod and bow my head with my palms to my eyes. I’ve never made the gesture myself—I’ve been its recipient since my earliest memories. But it comes easily, and as I wait, Jezara begins to speak.

“Blessings upon you,” she whispers, letting her eyes close again. “Light keep you safe, and light guide you on your path. May the warmth of healing go with you… .” Her lips move as though she would continue speaking, but no sound comes out, and her brow furrows.

Techeki reaches down and takes her hand, his eyes on the place where his palm touches hers. The crease in her forehead eases, and the tiniest of smiles touches the corners of her lips.

“May you walk lightly,” I whisper, picking up where she left off. My blessing and hers are not the same—no two deities share the same. “May forgiveness and compassion keep you, until …”

I spoke these words not long ago, on a lonely riverbank as a boy bled to death, as helpless then as I am now. My throat constricts, and it isn’t until Techeki lifts his head, his green eyeliner smudged with tears, that I find my voice, and the rest of my farewell.

“Until we meet again, Divine One.”

For a moment after Jezara’s last breath sighs out of her, there’s no sound. My body is empty, a dark and aching hole where once there was a heart.

I lift my eyes to see Inshara standing not far away, watching us with blazing eyes, my crown upon her head. My vision dims. Blood rushes past my ears. The world begins to fall away.

“Techeki, go,” I whisper.

“What?” Techeki straightens with a jerk, unwilling to leave Jezara’s body. “I must—Divine One, please—”

“Go!” I order him, not taking my eyes from the woman wearing