Page 5 of A Thread of Breath and Bone

I hope they’ve not been sent to sit in the endless expanse of darkness and cold of hell called the Umbrith—forced to watch those in the upper aether, Celestium, who are healed, warm, and safe. Those in Umbrith, the lower aether, are forced to see, but never experience.

I shudder at the thought.

Ezra and Ryker stay close, but let me have time to think, to breathe, to grieve.

I find a hill not far from the transport where a grassy knoll is struggling out its existence in this cold, but there nonetheless. It has a perfect view of the sunrise and the water to the left.

My eyes sting knowing how many graves we will have to dig.

One of the communications pilots suggests we could always burn them.

I would never.

The scattering of ashes is beautiful, yes, but it goes against nature.

We are taught from a young age that we are born of the soil and shall return to it. A complete cycle. The energies gifted to us at birth will then be returned and reused for another life. This is how it’s been done since the beginning.

I glance over my shoulder and say to neither in particular, “Here. I want to bury them here.”

Both men nod.

I turn back around, stumbling until my legs give out and I fold in on myself. There’s blood still caked around my nails as I dig them into the frozen ground.

I should have told Kuron how much he means to me. I should tell the others.

I want to tell Ryker, but he’s right, like always.

I do love him, I know that, but if he’s willing to wait, then I know exactly when and where I want to tell him.

That is, if we can ever get home.

Is this what war will do to us? Is this what we’re up against?

My anxiety and stress reach a tipping point, and a moment later, I’m retching. The thought of returning to the transport makes me physically ill. There’s blood everywhere. Black blood, red blood. What color blood do Fae and Elven bleed?

I collapse, curling into a ball, letting the weight carry me into unconsciousness.

The sun has moved across the sky by the time I awake. My face, hair, and even my nails are clean. My head pounds when I sit up.

“Hey,” Ry says from across the room. He’s on his tablet, sprawled out on the sofa in our quarters on the transport. He sets it down, rubbing at his eyes before crossing the room to me. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible,” I mutter.

He hands me water and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Let’s get you dressed. We can get this over with and get you back to bed. After a good night's sleep, we can tackle the plan tomorrow.” I nod, sipping the water. My neck feels worse now, and I’m sore all over. He kneels before me, holding open my pants as I step into them.

His fingers leave trails of energy and goosebumps as he slides them up my legs and over my hips. I shiver in response. He wraps me in a thick cloak, then takes my hand. The iridescent colors of our Bond wrap around me, soothing some of my anxiety.

We find Mera, Aza, Maya, Cassia, and Kaes already kneeling beside ten corpses wrapped in cloth sheets, faces exposed beneath scattered flowers and spices. Candles are lit around the space, and I can’t help but choke on a sob.

Kuron looks so peaceful. I’ve never seen him like this. Even as a little girl, I’d sneak up on him when I thought he had fallen asleep outside or at the waterfalls where we used to jump. I’d crawl toward him, holding my breath, only for one eye to crack open and a smile across his face.

“You’ll never catch me asleep, little one,” he’d say with tenderness.

I’d promise him that one day I would.

And now, as he lies there, I want to laugh through my tears and yell, “Gotcha.” But more than that, I just want his eyes to open. I want this to be a joke. I want him to have just been asleep.

“Shall we begin?” Captain Oktavious asks as he steps into the room.