Page 28 of Still the Sun

The only response I get is shuddering of the earth under my feet. A few pebbles dance, then settle, leaving the red-rock world around me eerily quiet. I trudge on. A dry weed catches my foot, making me stumble. I skid down to one knee, hitting a lone emily, so the damage isn’t too bad. Picking myself up, I turn slowly, scanning, searching for movement.

“Cas!”

A desert wren shoots off from a copse of wickwood trees. I head toward that, closer still to the amaranthine wall. Hope dies when I see nothing between the skinny, twisted trunks.

Wiping sweat from my eyes, I scream as loud as I can: “Cas!”

And hear, almost immediately, another cry: “Cas!”

Salki.

The voice echoes south of me. Pushing against the stitch, I run in that direction, over a swell in the dry earth, avoiding a snake hole. Minutes later I see movement in the distance, and as I close in, I see two women wrestling. The light-haired one is Salki, the dark-haired one ... Casnia.

Thank the gods.I increase my speed, spying Maglon running out from the direction of Emgarden. I’m breathless when I arrive.

Casnia struggles against Salki’s grip. She hasneverfought Salki, especially not physically. Salki cries, “Cas, stop! Please!” Tears stream from her eyes.

Strategically collapsing to my knees in front of Casnia, I put my hands on her shoulders. Her eyes meet mine. My lungs desperately suck in air. I shake my head.

“But!” Casnia cries, her tears matching Salki’s. “Empty, empty!”

“Cas, please,” Salki begs, and when Casnia tires, the older woman gathers her into her arms and holds her close. “It’s not safe. Don’t leave! You can’t leave!” She sobs into Casnia’s shoulder, and my heart cracks at the sight. Maglon reaches us, his tunic drenched. He stalls, unsure what to do.

“It’s okay,” I rasp, patting Casnia’s back. “She’s okay.”

Maglon says, “I can carry her back.”

“Empty,” Casnia sobs, barely intelligible. “Empty, empty.”

Tears leave uneven trails on her dust-strewn face, but she allows Salki to pull her to her feet and says nothing more when Maglon lifts her onto his back. We make the long walk back to Emgarden together.

Once Casnia and Salki are settled, I retreat to my house for a long drink, a quick scrub, and a change of clothes. I grab some jerky to take with me before retrieving my bag of scraps and tossing it in the shed.

The mist has descended by the time I reach the tower. Inside, I search for Heartwood, but he’s not there, so I return to the doors to wait, chewing hard enough to make my jaw hurt.

About fifteen minutes later, I see him.

“Did you—” he begins, out of breath.

“We found her,” I say over him, and a weariness settles into my bones. “She’s okay. Thank you for helping us.”

Heartwood’s vivid eyes shift back and forth as they study my face. He stops two paces from me, like he’s tethered to something and physically can move no closer. We stand there, an unnameable awkwardness between us, and I feel oddly exposed. I check my sash and belt to ensureI’m not. Several seconds pass before I thank him again and turn inside. Pick up the ladder and drag it with me, forcing my eyes forward.

On the third floor, I pick out larger structural pieces and start guessing at where they fit. The pattern of joists in the foundation helps me. The larger beams would be much easier to maneuver with another person, and I consider asking Heartwood, but stubbornness keeps me going, and with some shouldering, I get things where they need to go, securing them loosely, in case I’m wrong and need to pull them apart again. After that, I climb down to Machine Two, shift it away from the wall, and work on the pieces in the back, taking a few things apart, wondering at the wheel near the power switch, and measuring parts to determine the feed rate of a spindle.

I still grip the ratchet as I lean my head against the cool door behind the machine. I don’t recall closing my eyes, but mind and body give out all at once, and I’m soon fast asleep.

I wake to a sunlit room and an awful taste in my mouth, a crick in my neck, and a numb backside. Carefully I sit up, hissing as my body protests. Chill bumps cover my skin. The stone has zapped every trace of warmth from my body. Arching, my back pops twice. I hold my breath.

That’s when I hear their voices. Moseus and Heartwood, on the first floor. Pulling myself up, I move toward the stairs, quiet on my feet. I realize Moseus, at least, does not know I’m here.

“—dangerous to involve yourself.” Moseus’s voice dips so low I can barely discern his words.

“I know,” Heartwood replies.

“We cannot repeat mistakes. No matter the reason.”

A long pause, and then, quiet as the mist, “I know.”

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