Page 159 of Ash and Feather

Sweat beaded on my forehead. The floor was rising up, threatening to tip me over. I wanted to crumple to that floor, but I braced an arm against the door frame and I made myself stay on my feet.

I’m not sure how long I stood there, or how long Iwouldhave stood there if Dravyn hadn’t found me.

I heard his voice say my name. Felt him stepping closer. I couldn’t seem to shake my paralysis and look up to meet him, though; I was completely frozen. The only thing I could see were blurry, horrible images of all the wrong choices I might make, and what devastation might rain down on me because of them.

“Left,” Dravyn said, softly.

My rushing thoughts slowed to a gentle whirring.

“Every time in the past,” he said, “it’s always been left.”

I managed to blink away some of the horrid images flashing through my mind. To lift my eyes and see what was directly in front of me instead. And what I saw was Dravyn staring back at me, clutching a pewter mug full of what smelled like some sort of herbal tea.

I swallowed hard. “And what if I’d gone right?” A mere mention of the possibility sent another thread of fear spiraling through my gut. “In the past, what if I hadn’t led with my left foot?”

He considered it—truly considered it, where so many in my past had merely laughed at me when I started asking questions like these. “Then maybe you wouldn’t be here. Maybe we never would have met. Maybe everything would be different.”

The thought of us never meeting sent a shock straight to my core—a visceral feeling even stronger than the fear currently rooting me in place.

“But you’ve survived every moment up to this point, even if you set out on the wrong foot,” he pointed out.

Yes.

I had.

I stood up a little straighter, prying my hand from the door frame, finger-by-finger. Dravyn offered me the mug he held, and I managed to make myself take it. The solid warmth of it helped ground me more fully in the present, allowing me to finally step into the hallway.

My fear didn’t fully subside as we walked. I found myself wanting to count everything we passed—the light fixtures, the floor tiles, the busts of famous Galithian leaders—to make certain the number of them was correct.

I didn’t even know what the ‘correct’ number of these things was. I just needed to double-check things. To control, to hold on tosomethingthis morning, before I fully stepped into this day where it felt like so many things could slip from my grasp.

I finally found solace by counting the paintings we walked by, then going a step further and organizing them in my mind according to the style they represented. It calmed me enough that I was soon able to manage more coherent, purposeful thoughts, and, eventually, a conversation.

“You’re up early,” I said, glancing toward Dravyn. “A sunrise breakfast with your brother?”

He smiled wryly at my hopeful tone. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no.”

“Where were you, then?”

“I went to check in with Mairu before she started to worry about us too much. And also to remind Valas that we neededhim to be paying attention in case we needed his help. And after that…” His voice trailed off. He took a deep, steadying breath.

Curiosity ignited within me, but I didn’t want to pry my way into his mind for answers.

Luckily, I didn’t have to; his thoughts became clear a moment later—so clear that I suspected he wanted me to see them. That he was showing me what he couldn’t bring himself to speak of.

And what I saw was an image of polished stones bearing the crest of the Galithian royal family. They stood on a hilltop dotted with trees with long, flowing branches. A breeze stirred through the memory, swaying the branches and fluttering the navy and silver-colored banners that were planted in an even line behind the stones.

“You went to visit your siblings’ graves, didn’t you?”

“And those of my parents.”

“Alone?”

“You were finally resting well. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

I frowned, even though the answer was expected. It was who he was at the very core of his being, after all—he would carry the weight of the entire world alone if given the chance.

But the fact that he’d actually gone to visit those graves…it was surprising. A step forward, I wanted to think. Maybe he’d laid some of that weight on his shoulders down while he was there.

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