Category: Writing

The Answer

On By MaryIn Prompts, WritingLeave a comment

The cards for this week: architect, and no answer.

The result feels like a bunch of edge-lord bullshit that doesn’t pull its meaning together very well at all (and also doesn’t fully represent my own ideology, but hey, the card said no answer, soooo…). I kinda like some of the idea and hate a lot of the result. Blah.

              They had designed the entire system from scratch. It had started as a joke, a reference to a book about a planet sized simulation run simply to discover the answer to life, the universe, and everything. A way to entertain themselves in the void of space. Humanity had died out, and They were all that remained – and They had become something else, something powerful, but also something pointless. In the hopes of finding some answer, some purpose, They had found a place to start.

              Part of Their power involved moving through time. They couldn’t move freely – They couldn’t move back. There was never any going back, no way to see if the end could have been something different for Them. But They could move forward, shifting hundreds, thousands, millions of years at a time to see the results of what They started. Understanding the conditions for life, They sculpted the clay, the rocks, the dirt, and filled in the oceans. And then They created the spark of life within that primordial sea. And They let it run its course.

              They remembered movies – some of Them, at least, those from the time before mass media died out and flights of fancy became less important than basic survival. It was like watching a time-lapse or a video on fast-forward. The weather and land shifted with the ages. Life evolved. They slowed to a crawling pace sometimes to catch moments, or study how far things had progressed. There were some things that were familiar in the creatures that evolved, and some things that weren’t. They had been relatively hands off, creating and building the original framework and then letting things run their course. Grand architects, god-like if not god. The most complicated simulation, born from mere boredom.

              There were many things with at least a base animal intelligence, things that ran, flew, slithered, and swam. Things that hunted, and things that foraged, and things that played and grew curious. Things that mated and lived. Things that sickened and died. Entire species wiped out by calamities and chance and accident. They watched life rise and fall in waves.

              There was some stir of something like excitement when sentience took hold. A handful of creatures that communicated in a more complicated manner, about more nuanced ideas, and worked together as a society. These creations understood the concept of tools, and made them to fit their needs. They altered their environments with buildings, altered their bodies with coverings. They spread, much as humanity had once spread across the Earth. It filled some of Them with a longing for what They had once been – to feel alive again. But now They could only watch.

              They watched the spread. They watched the development. They watched as cultures clashed in massive wars, or came together to build great works. They watched with trepidation as the technological advancements began to pile, one upon the other, until this new society was close to what humanity had achieved before it had withered and died. Many of Them felt some joy that perhaps things would be better for them, the little creations.

              And then it ended. As abruptly and nastily as it had for Them.

              Without the leftover that was They.

              There was a lonely silence for a time, and then an outcry of disappointment. Certainly some species at some point could surpass Them, find a way to take life into something more meaningful, or maybe even join Them in this strange nonexistence of god-like power. Using the same base, They wiped the little rock clean, placed the conditions, and lit the spark again. They did not pause as often on this round. They sped forward, eager to see the outcome.

              And just as before, it ended. With nothing remaining.

              Unsatisfied, They started again.

              And again.

              And again.

              Until the fear began to take hold. The realization creeping, as They watched civilization after civilization fail. They began to watch the waves and undulations of life and death and truly feel within the void of Their existence, the truth – the inescapable truth. That there was no rhyme or reason or answer for anything. That They were still alone.

21. Cassandra

On By MaryIn 2023, WritingLeave a comment

The next day after watching the Hunter prepare his tea and complete his morning meditation, we continued traveling along the river. I eyed the mountains to the north whenever they were in sight. We were silent most of the morning – or rather, he was silent and I was morose over the previous day’s events. As it got to the afternoon, my stomach growled, and I sat down on a rock to rest for a bit. Without my pack, I didn’t have my food supplies, and I didn’t know how to fish or hunt without any sort of gear. I also was not going to ask Asterollan for help. Instead, I summoned water, gulping down handfuls at a time, hoping it would be enough to tide me over.

When I chose to take my break, Asterollan stopped several paces back and perched on a rock. He watched me while idly playing with a short, slightly curved knife. “Did you tell anyone that you could cast after you found out?” I asked, finally unable to take the silent stares any longer.

“No. Of course not.”

“Scared they’d enslave you?” He stared at me, his expression carefully neutral. “Then one of your own would probably be hunting you down.”

“That’s a possibility.”

“But it was easy for you to just… leave? Don’t you have a family or anyone that’s going to be worried?” I wondered fleetingly how my mom was treating my dog. She had never been a dog person.

“No. I have no one.”

There was a pause as he continued to stare at me. The silence and the answer, the constant staring, was all very unnerving to me. “How did you survive the desert?”

“The cactus forests provided shelter and water. I had an idea of what direction your group was traveling in, so I followed at a distance. I would catch up at night to check in, and then I would move far enough away to not be spotted.”

“But you were. Spotted. Silden saw you.”

He hesitated a moment. “I was careless. I was trying to decide if I should walk into your camp, and lingered in the open too long. I was careful to stay out of sight after that.”

I tilted my head curiously at him. “You were going to walk into our camp?”

“You were injured.” He looked away. “I thought that perhaps offering my meager healing would be a good way to ingratiate myself to you.”

I nodded, and stood up to continue the walk. He was silent, and I glanced back to see that he was following several paces back like he had all morning. We continued along the river again, though I was in a considerably better mood. For one, the scenery was nicer than the endless sand dunes, and the weather was milder down in the gorge. The trickling of the river was also quite soothing. I detoured once when I saw a copse of evergreens, checking for pine cones that were half open, and picked at them for any remaining seeds as we walked. The leafy trees were displaying their full autumn foliage of golds and reds. There were birds – nice, normal sized, chirpy birds – singing loudly. It was a beautiful day.

I found myself thinking several times that the company could have been better, and wondering about how my friends were doing.

I stopped to rest again late in the afternoon, thinking that it may be time to make a camp, but Asterollan walked up to me as I started to sit. “We need to continue on a little further,” he said.

“It’s nearly dark,” I protested.

He looked at me, a strange expression on his face. “No. There’s something ahead.” He continued walking, a bit away from the river, entering a thicket of what looked to be aspen trees ahead. I stared at his back in confusion, but then stood to follow him. The water was getting louder as we walked, and I realized there was a waterfall ahead – not a large one, but still very idyllically pretty in the fading light. We had walked away from the main river, so this was a small stream that had deviated from it, and it looked like it wound back around toward the main river near where we had left it. We exited the white barked trees.

Near the waterfall was a stone structure. Ruins – it was open to the sky since the roof had fallen in long ago, but a grand arch still stood, and half a wall. As we approached, I could see that the ground was paved with colorful stones, that had once formed a circular mosaic floor. Asterollan walked out to the center of the circle, and turned to look at his surroundings. “I know this place.”

“Have you ever been here?” I asked, but I knew the answer even before he said it.

“No.” He stood, his head tilted, a distant look in his eyes as though he were hearing something I couldn’t. Then he looked at me. “We’re going to camp here,” he said. I didn’t argue.

Similar to the previous night in the cave, Asterollan made a fire and then disappeared for awhile – he said nothing, but I assumed he went to hunt again. I poked around in the pool at the base of the waterfall, wondering if I’d be able to catch or forage something by hand. After several minutes with no success, I decided to strip down and wash for the first time in many days. I started with the clothes, scrubbing as much of the dust out of them as I could, then wrung them out and lay them out to dry. Then I washed myself. The water was cold, but also refreshing. I didn’t have any soap, but it was still nice to just rub the majority of grime off my body. I played around with sitting under the waterfall in lotus pose as well, inwardly laughing at the stereotype of the scene.

When I was done, I stepped out of the water and wrung my hair out as best as I could. My clothes were still wet, so I pulled the cloak around me and sat on a nearby rock. I closed my eyes and reached for my magic, focusing on the water. Since it wasn’t magically summoned, it felt somehow more substantial. I realized I couldn’t dispel it the same way. Instead, I focused on controlling it – moving it off the clothes. When I was done, there was still some residual dampness, but the clothes were dry enough to put back on.

As I dressed, I noticed some movement out of the corner of my eye and realized Asterollan had returned. He was sitting near the campfire, with some small game skewered over the flames. I could feel myself turning bright red as I wondered how much he had seen, and I was careful to dress under the cover of the cloak.

When I finally approached the fire, I sat very near it to warm myself up and avoided looking at him. Instead, I studied the cooking meat on the skewers. It looked suspiciously like squirrel, but I didn’t ask what it was. When he decided it was sufficiently cooked, he handed me my share, and then proceeded to sit across from me, staring at me as he ate.

Still feeling embarrassed, I pulled the hood of the cloak up and ate quietly, staring absently at the flickering light of the flames. When I was done, I tossed the bones in. “Were you meditating under the waterfall?” he asked.

Okay. So he had seen a lot. I licked the grease from my fingers slowly and nodded. “It’s a… joke. From my world.”

“A joke?”

“Yes. A thing a person does or says to be funny.”

He grimaced. “I know what a joke is, Cassandra.”

“Really? You’ll have to forgive me for thinking otherwise, Asterollan.” He sighed.

The warmth of the fire and the food I’d eaten were starting to make me drowsy. I pulled the cloak more tightly around me. Out of the corner of my eye, I started to see flashes of luminescence from the woods. I watched them for awhile, thinking it might be lightning bugs, but these were bigger. I watched the wings fluttering and realized they were glowing moths. I saw one land on a plant – when it lifted, it left an imprint behind. The imprint glowed faintly and then lifted away, leaving a moth shaped hole in the leaf. The new moth fluttered in the air.

Asterollan followed my gaze and watched them as well. “Well, there’s something I’ve never seen,” he said.

“So you don’t know what they are?” I asked. He shrugged.

We watched quietly as the moths multiplied amongst the trees, softly glowing. One fluttered very near to me, and I reached out to touch it. It flickered and disappeared.

Asterollan stood and approached me. I stared at him warily as he knelt next to me. He started to reach out, but I pulled back cautiously. “I think I’m stronger here,” he said quietly. I paused, curious at what he meant. He placed a hand on my head. The glow of magic surrounded him again. I stared at his mismatched eyes and felt the healing begin.

It was more thorough this time. I felt my leg wound tighten momentarily, and then the tightness disappeared. The shine of my burns faded to clear skin, and I realized that a constant headache I hadn’t been fully cognizant of disappeared, leaving me feeling delightfully clear headed. I stared at him in wonder.

The glow faded. His hand slipped through my hair and he smiled at me, a smile that softened his features and lit up his face in a way that almost left me breathless. “Ah, good. Your head is no longer dented where you hit it.”

In a mild panic, I reached up to touch the spot where my head had hit the rock, but his hand was still in the way. “My head was dented in?!” I asked, hearing my voice jump up an octave.

“Yes. It was quite ghastly.” He rubbed a thumb over the spot, and then pulled his hand back. I rubbed my hands down my arms, no longer shiny with half-healed burns.

I looked back up at him. “Thank you,” I said sincerely.

He frowned, staring at me silently for a moment, then mumbled a brief acknowledgement to my thanks before moving back to his own side of the fire. Then he lay down to sleep, turning his back to me.

I turned to watch the glowing moths until I also drifted off, wondering what it was about this place that made his magic stronger.

I woke the next morning to the smell of mint tea. I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Glancing around, I could see that Asterollan was dressing near the pool, his curls weighed down and darkened with water. As he returned to the campsite, he sat and began sipping the tea. “Joke or not, the waterfall meditation was surprisingly refreshing,” he said. I scrunched my face at his statement and began summoning water to wash my face and rinse out my mouth.

Asterollan stared thoughtfully at our surroundings. “I think we need to stay here one more day,” he said.

I frowned. “I want to get back to my friends, Asterollan.”

“I know. But… I believe they’re coming to us.”

“How do you know that?” He gave me a strange look. I sighed. “Your voice talks to you more than mine does, I think.”

After drinking his tea, he disappeared for a few hours. I considered leaving without him. I had no idea how Lyre would find me this far south, and I was anxious to get back to him. Still, the voices hadn’t steered us wrong so far. And Asterollan had helped me a lot these past few days – he had saved me on the cliff, and from the river. He had healed me. I pulled the cloak close around me. This was a man I shouldn’t trust, and strangely, I did trust him. I had already trusted him enough to tell him everything about me – about where I was from, about the voices.

So I sat and waited. He came back with more small game and proceeded to cook it. It occurred to me that I was perhaps just easily won over with food.

Asterollan spent most of the day studying the stone ruins. At one point he was examining something in the rocks that formed the ledge of the waterfall when he called me over. When I went to see what he had found, he pointed out a cavern, hidden by time and stones – it looked like it had once been an offshoot of the building that went underground. We worked together to shift some of the rocks aside and took the ancient stone steps down.

I reached for my magic as we descended into the darkness, to give us light. Asterollan did the same. The place was eerily quiet, and I had a strange sense while entering – like for the first time, I was truly unaccompanied, despite the Hunter’s presence. When we arrived at the bottom, we found a damp cavern, gently lit from an opening above. The light that filtered through was colorful, and I realized that it came through a circular pane of stained glass with an image of a sword set in front of a sun. “How did that manage to last all these years?” I asked quietly.

“It’s been protected by magic,” Asterollan said. We stood, listening to the echoing drip of water from somewhere within the cavern.

A thought occurred to me as we stood staring up at the symbol. I remembered how I could feel wounds, injuries, and sickness when I healed. And there was something I hadn’t been able to confirm for myself since I had arrived here. “Asterollan,” I said. He turned to look at me curiously. “When you were healing me… could you feel anything… malignant inside?” He tilted his head, a confused look spreading across his face. “Like an advanced illness.”

He shook his head. “No. You were perfectly healthy.”

I thought I had been certain when I found my vision improved and my scars gone, but I guess I hadn’t been fully convinced that everything wrong with me had been fixed despite that.  I closed my eyes and took three deep breaths, and felt tears of relief well up. “Good.”

Asterollan stared at me thoughtfully. “Why do you ask?”

“In my world, I had a disease. One that was a death sentence.” Like everything else that I had shared with him, the words just tumbled out of their own accord. “The doctors that treated me thought I wasn’t going to last longer than another year at most. I was prepared to die.” I stared up at the miraculous pane of glass that had lasted longer than the stone temple that had once stood outside. “I was going to die.”

“Then I’m glad you’re here,” Asterollan said. I glanced over, but he turned away quickly and began to make his way back up the steps. I watched him go.

Maniac Magee

On By MaryIn Prompts, WritingLeave a comment
Daily writing prompt
Do you remember your favorite book from childhood?
View all responses

Choosing a short prompt to answer owing to being quite busy today with other things.

My favorite book as a child was Maniac Magee by Jerry Spinelli. Maniac Magee tells the story of an orphan boy who runs away from his caretakers (his aunt and uncle, who hate each other so much they keep two of everything, and the fact that they can’t get along drives him away) and searches for a home. He happens to live in a town that is very segregated, and despite the times that he lives in, he is ignorant to issues of race. Because of that, he quite comfortably gets along with anyone regardless of what side of town they’re from. Much of the story is told like a recounting of an urban legend while it tells of some of the feats or unusual circumstances that Maniac accomplishes. Though it has been years since I’ve read it, I do vaguely recall that he runs everywhere (in line with being a runaway) and there is a Gordian Knot situation as well. He is also allergic to pepperoni.

Maniac lives temporarily in several places and situations, attracting the attention of bullies on both sides of town and eventually finding a reason to move on from each place. At the end, he has eased some of the tension and helped form something of an understanding between some of the people he has interacted with on both sides of town. He also finds a place to call home.

It’s been years since I’ve read it, but I still remember the main storyline and the general gist of the piece. I used to read it once a year from elementary school until partway through high school. It might be interesting to revisit it sometime soon actually.

20. Cassandra

On By MaryIn 2023, WritingLeave a comment

I was eager to be on my way back along the river in an attempt to find Lyre and the others, but I was waterlogged and tired and shivering. The Hunter’s healing spell had been incomplete, and I was still sore and stiff. I was also shocked to learn that it was late in the afternoon already, and the sun was already out of sight beyond the cliff faces of the ravine. How long had I been knocked out? How far had the river taken me in that time?

Not only that, but the Hunter insisted that I rest. He built a campfire, and placed his hooded cloak around my shoulders and left. I wondered if I should escape – I wasn’t certain if I was his prisoner or not. But he had followed us all the way from the ocean, and I doubted I could get away from him now. And he had helped us fight off the hounds. I sat as close to the fire as I could, thinking over the brief conversation that had passed between us, trying to figure out if he was friend or foe. Absently I tugged his cloak around me tighter. Somehow, it was still dry and warm, and smelled faintly like mint.

The Hunter wasn’t pleased about me laughing in his face at his question, and even less pleased when I explained that I didn’t even know where the voices were from. I was also not pleased to learn that his healing ability was very limited, and so the incomplete healing and my residual soreness and scars were about as good as it was going to get. But I had felt compelled to share everything I knew with him, maybe because of the head injury. Or maybe because he was like me – a human that could use magic, who heard mysterious voices. I stared into the fire, thinking of the dogs as I rubbed at the shiny burns on my arms.

The Hunter returned before the sunlight was fully gone, carrying a pair of field dressed rabbits skewered on wooden spikes. He positioned them so they leaned over the flames, and then sat cross legged on the other side of the fire, his arms crossed, glowering at me. We sat silently, listening to the sizzle of melting fat hitting the flames. My stomach grumbled at the smell.

When the meat was finished cooking, he stood to hand me one skewer and then took the other back to his spot. He pulled the rabbit apart carefully, chewing slowly as he continued to silently stare at me. The quiet meal made me miss my friends more. That and the constant staring was disconcerting. “How long have you been able to cast?” I finally asked. I had told him everything about me, and I knew nothing about him.

He flinched at the word cast. “Since I attacked your group on the ship.”

“Before or after you killed Junel?” The words came out with a little more heat than I’d intended, and I glared at the ground to avoid looking at him.

“I didn’t kill her.” I glanced back up at him. He glared at me. “The ship blowing up took care of that. Don’t mistake me, I would have killed her. But she managed to kill herself with her own carelessness, wielding so much fire near such a volatile substance as flame powder.”

“So you wouldn’t have felt any guilt about killing her,” I stated flatly.

“Not any more guilt than any of you did massacring an entire ship of men,” he retorted.

I thought briefly of the screams, of that short bloody hallway that I had walked through. And also immediately remembered that I had almost witnessed Larina being raped, how nonchalant the Captain had been about how his crew used his slaves, and Lyre’s words about his life when I had last spoken to him. Full of resentment on their behalf, I said, “Can you blame slaves for wanting revenge for how they’re treated?”

“No.” The word came out cold and hard, catching me by surprise, and he ran his hand briefly across his face, following the trail of the scar that marred his features. “I can’t blame revenge. But I can say it never ends.” I stared into the milky iris of his injured eye, the slight notch in his nose.

Annoyed, I returned to finishing off the rabbit, surprised to see that I had pulled nearly every piece of meat from the bones. I tossed the remains into the fire, rubbing the grease off onto my pants. “Thank you for the food,” I said, perhaps a bit harsher than I should have. He stared back sullenly, which somehow was just pissing me off more. I flopped down and turned away from the fire so I wouldn’t have to see his face. I closed my eyes to force myself to sleep. The sooner I slept, the sooner the next day would come, the sooner I could start walking back up the river to find Lyre.

Not all the dogs had been dead when I had fallen off the cliff. Were my friends okay? I felt sick to my stomach thinking about the injuries they had already sustained that I hadn’t had a chance to fully heal.

I woke the next morning to the sound of the Hunter moving about the cave and the smell of mint tea. I summoned water to wash my face, and ran a hand through my hair, then turned to see what the Hunter was doing. He was in the process of pulling a metal cup away from the flames very carefully with a gloved hand, and setting it down to cool a bit. He saw me eying the cup and frowned at me. “There’s not enough to share.”

I thought of the lingering smell of mint on his cloak. “Do you just… carry mint and a cup with you? To make tea?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“The mint stayed dry when you fell in the river?”

He looked annoyed at my line of questioning. “The cloak is enchanted to remain dry and provide a degree of magical protection. I keep the tea there.” I pulled the cloak tighter around me, wondering if he had gone pawing around it while I slept. He caught the movement and my expression and grimaced. “I wasn’t going to leave my tea in my cloak when I gave it to you. It’s my tea.”

The way he said that struck me as funny. “And there’s not enough to share?” I asked, suppressing a smile.

He leveled a flat, no-nonsense stare at me. “No.”

“Ah.”

He went about what must have been a morning routine for him. I no longer had my pack of supplies, so I didn’t have much to gather. I couldn’t remember if I had dropped it in the cliffside battle or lost it to the river. I watched as the Hunter secured his armor and his sword, kicked dirt over the fire, and then sat down and closed his eyes, sitting very still. I wondered if he was meditating, and remained silent. After several minutes had passed, he opened his eyes and drank his tea, now that it had cooled a little. Then he stood and left the cave.

I followed him, and watched as he rinsed his cup out in the river, then attached it securely to his belt. He eyed me warily for a moment. I moved to take off the cloak. “Did you need this back?” I asked, shifting it off my shoulders.

“No. You can keep it, Outworlder.”

“My name is Cassandra,” I told him.

“Cassandra,” he repeated.

I stared at him for a moment, studying the mismatched eyes. His hair was nearly as long as mine, cascading in curls around his face, glinting in the morning light. The shape of his face was almost quite delicate for a man, and he was roughly the same height as me. If it wasn’t for the scar, he would have been enviously beautiful. Despite that beauty, he was annoying the fuck out of me. “What’s your name, Hunter?” I asked into the extended silence when he didn’t offer it. He narrowed his eyes at me.

Oh, I realized. This is the moment when I find out whether he’s a friend or foe.

Without a word, he gestured downstream, as though he intended for me to walk that way. I glowered at him. “My friends are upstream.” He arched one eyebrow. I pulled his cloak tight for a moment. “Am I your prisoner then?”

He seemed taken aback by the question. After a moment, he said, “No. I don’t know.” He frowned and shook his head, then let out a deep sigh. “I’m not taking you back. The voice I hear said we should go this way.”

“Oh.” I wondered if he was lying so I wouldn’t argue.

Well, I’m certain they don’t want to hurt you at least, an amused sounding voice whispered quietly into a sudden breeze that swept my hair away from my face. This one was familiar – the one that I had heard the most. I caught a faint whiff of ozone. I could see an inquisitive look on the Hunter’s face as he realized that I must have heard something he hadn’t.

Hesitantly, I nodded. “Fine. But… what is your name?”

Just as hesitantly, he said, “I am Asterollan.”

I bit the side of my cheek to keep myself from asking if I should call him Ass. “Asterollan,” I tried the name slowly, pausing on the first syllable just long enough for my own amusement. It wasn’t a joke that would translate anyway. I smiled at him, and started walking the way he had gestured before.

As it turned out, the way that we traveled took us away from the river, and up a gently inclining slope that began to loop back. At first I thought we were going to find a way out on the Empire side of the river, but it hit a steep cliff face. From there, it followed the cliff as a narrow ledge. I walked slowly along this part, much to Asterollan’s chagrin. “Can’t you go faster?” he asked at one point.

“I really hate heights and this ledge is really narrow,” I said, attempting to keep the whine out of my voice.

“It’s wide enough to stand on easily. You’re being ridiculous.” I ignored him and kept on at a pace that was comfortable to me, and he sighed in frustration. Soon, the ledge widened out more comfortably. We came to an area of the ravine where tall rock formations criss-crossed the river, and the path we had taken brought us to the top of these formations. Looking down, I could see that the river narrowed and rushed in rapids between steep rocks. It would have been impossible to walk through here from below.

I stared down at the frothing river. “Well, looks like you were right,” I said, feeling relieved.

He said nothing. I glanced up at him to see that he was only frowning, waiting for me to continue walking. With a sigh, I continued along the path. We crossed the river a few times, and had to jump in a few spots where the rock formations did not connect. It got a bit easier, but I always paused for longer than he liked, terrified of the fall if I happened to miss.

Luckily, as it became late in the afternoon, the height of our path shortened. We were coming to an area that widened out, and the rock formations were starting to create a path back to more normal, even ground. Still, the leaping and the fear of heights had tired me out. On the last one, I slipped, and managed to just barely grab the ledge, smashing my chin into the hard rock as I did so. I groaned, but managed to hang on.

Asterollan hopped across nimbly and helped pull me up from the edge. “It’s a wonder you survived this long,” he said, sounding a little amused as he watched me rub my jaw. I continued walking, ignoring his comment, when he continued speaking unbidden. “I did think you were done for when the owl caught you.”

I stopped and looked back at him in surprise. “Silden said he spotted you after.”

“Silden. That would be the tall one I ran through on the ship?” He studied my face for a moment, then said, “You don’t have to give me that look.”

“I am 100% certain that whatever look I give you is no worse than you deserve,” I said before I could stop myself. “But yes, he was the one you stabbed.”

Something in his jaw tightened. “And that was when I saw a human cast for the first time. Quite a light show.” And then he sighed and looked away. “When the owl carried you off, I felt completely lost. I’d only crossed the blasted desert for you. I thought you’d have answers.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment to you.” I turned to continue along the path.

He silently followed.

Soon we were walking alongside the river, following it back the way we had come. I swiveled my head constantly, trying to see if anything looked familiar. “How far did the river carry us?” I grumbled as it started to get dark. “Certainly it doesn’t flow that fast.”

I could hear Asterollan’s steps come to a stop behind me. “I have something of a confession to make,” he said. I turned around, somewhat annoyed, to see a completely new expression on his face. Sheepishness? Embarrassment? He avoided looking me directly in the eyes, and there was some color in his tanned cheeks. I waited for him to speak. “When we fell into the water… I swam hard to find you, but when I reached you, you already had that head wound. I grabbed you, but the current was too strong. I couldn’t get us both to shore safely.” He paused and then looked back at me. “I asked the voice to give me the power to get us both to safety, and there was a flash of light, and we were in that cave.”

I stared at him. I felt a strained smile begin to pull at my face. “Are you telling me that you have no idea where we are?”

“I’m fairly certain this is the same river gorge,” he said, his voice a tad defensive for once.

With a dramatic groan, I dropped to sit on the nearest rock, putting my head in my hands. “You don’t even know if we ended up downriver or not! We could be traveling in the wrong direction!”

With an annoyed look on his face, he pointed north. “The mountains are there, but further away. We ended up downriver of where we were.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

He looked confused at my words. “What?”

I waved away his question. “Never mind!” I snapped. I studied the distant mountains, relieved to see their familiar outline. But sure enough, they were smaller than they had been the night we had camped at the cliff’s edge. A sudden anxiety began to well in my chest, making my heart heavy. If Lyre and the others were okay, what would they do? Would they search for me very long before continuing to the Empire? I had no idea where they would go once they reached freedom. If they gave up on me as lost, would I ever be able to find Lyre again?