her foot protected again and pulled her knees to her face and screamed in fury and regret. Her body was going to fail her before she could reach the top and her mind was tired of fighting it.
So tired.
A wave of exhaustion hit her, consuming her, and her eyes drifted closed. She couldn’t do this if her body was going to fall to pieces. Her body wasn’t strong enough.
Something whooshed by her face, and her eyes flew open. A bird? She needed real food and would eat the damn thing raw if she had to.
But she saw no bird. She saw nothing.
Standing, she looked around, only seeing snow and rock, as she had for what seemed like an eternity now.
Until she thought she saw someone else further down the path, obscured by the low visibility. She stumbled, wondering which of her stupid husbands dared to follow her up the mountain.
No, not one of mine. Mat, Zayden, and Bryn would respect my decision. It’s probably Emerian because he thinks he needs to protect me for K—
Her thoughts stopped dead as she fell in the snow, seeing there was no person there, but a specter like she saw on Al Moro Nat.
Is it Al Moro Nat? Has so much time really passed?
“Hello?” she asked softly, her heart racing faster than it had a right to. She didn’t know whether to be afraid.
The specter took a step closer and looked down at her.
Her heart broke.
“Kian,” she cried, bowing low. “I’m sorry. I failed as your daughter. I’m so sorry.”
She didn’t want to move, but she couldn’t see him like that, so she forced herself to look up at his face again.
She was going to die right here for him. She deserved it—for him, for Leshaun, for Dave. For the hundreds who tried to escape the Elvasi and died. For the hundreds who died in a war she and Alchan started without listening to anyone else.
This was her fault. She got them killed. She had helped pick the path that led to their deaths.
Kian extended a hand. She tried to grab it and went through. She felt the pain cut her again and the dismay on Kian’s face.
“What are you trying…” She couldn’t put it together. Her mind was foggy, her body in pain constantly now. She didn’t understand.
He stepped back and frowned.
Then his hands began to move, unsure.
But she watched them and knew.
“Come. I’ll walk with you.”
The dead didn’t have a voice, but neither did Varon. Somehow, that turned all the way to Kian being able to relay a simple message after he was long gone.
Mave got to her feet and followed him. Every step hurt. Every single one was a reminder of what toll the mountain took on her, and how her body was giving up.
She made it to his side and staggered, but he slowed for her, watching with pain in his eyes.
“You can do it,” he signed slowly.
No one in the Company signed unless it was during a mission. None of them had Varon’s speed.
She was so grateful he was there. So fucking grateful.
“I can’t,” she said, leaning on a rock. “My body is falling apart, Kian! I want to so bad, but…”
“I believe in you. Always.”
She sobbed harder, but the message got her feet moving again.
Together, they walked.
Kian didn’t leave her side—as she struggled to overcome boulders and inclines and when she fell. He stayed. He stayed by her side the entire time after that. He was unconcerned by the snow, unconcerned by the cold, the wind, or the terrain.
He jogged ahead of her and looked over a rock beyond her. She practically crawled to get to him. The storm was so strong, growing stronger with every bit of ground she covered now, but she reached his side and pulled herself to stand.
He went first, gesturing for her to keep going, a smile on his face.
She limped after him, desperate to stay with him.
His smile was beaming as she made it to him and fell on her knees again.
“I love you, daughter,” he signed.
“I love you, baba,” she whispered, staring at his face.
Then he faded away, leaving her at the peak of the mountain in the calm eye of the deadly storm.
44
Alchan
Alchan didn’t know how long he sat there. He tried not to think about the room he was in or what was sitting on the throne behind him. He had picked a spot in the center of the throne room to meditate.