The Last Red Year

FIFTEEN: The Fourth Chamber

 "I have to go back."

They stand at the end of a long cobbled road, staring south as the first rays of sun poke up past the mountains on their right. The snow has stopped. The horses have rested. The people of Sillhecreste, though suspicious of the three strange children who have ridden into their midst, are kind enough. Mauragan and Sorine will be safe here.

"Kas, are you fucking kidding me?" Sorine shakes their head, following Kas's gaze. "What's left for you there?"

"My sibling." They sigh, breath crystallizing in the cold air only to be blown away just as quickly by the icy wind. "There's no way they know about this. If they knew...if they knew what happened..." They can't even finish their sentence. They're afraid the universe will turn their words back on them if they dare to speak them aloud. "I can't leave them. I love them. They're the only family I have left."

Sorine lets out a puff of air, breath staining a white cloud next to Kas's. "You're gonna end up dead," they say. "And...I don't want to lose you. Me, I ain't never had a sibling, but...I got you. And you're the best I'm ever gonna get. Please. You know it's a dumb idea. I know it's a dumb idea. Mauragan knows it's a dumb idea."

"It's a dumb idea," Mauragan agrees, voice a high-pitched, nervous mewl.

"I know that's what you guys think. I know I can't change your minds," Kas says, fidgeting with their tightly gloved hands. The winter chill is awful on their skin. It always has been. "But I wouldn't leave either of you behind, so...it isn't fair to do the same to Isri."

"You're too nice, Kas." Sorine turns to look at them, studying their face with an unusual intensity in their violet gaze. "You wouldn't'a lasted a second in Waywater." They're still for a long moment before pulling Kas into a hug, smacking them hard on the back. "I'm not gonna change your mind either. I know you. You're damn stubborn. So...so I'm gonna ask you to keep being stubborn. Do what you gotta do, and do it so good nobody gets the chance to hurt you." They rest their head on Kas's shoulder for a while, and Kas hugs them back, face buried in Sorine's curly brown hair.

"I'll be back." Kas pushes their hood up against a gust of wind, closing their eyes and taking in the fullness of the cold. "I promise I will. You guys stay safe, okay?"

"We will. But you better come back." Sorine takes a step back, letting out another puff of white in the wintry air. "And if by some miracle you bring Isri with you, you better let them know they ain't never getting any desserts off me."

Kas laughs just a little at that, though they feel a bitter pit in their stomach at the thought. They know Isri. They know they've changed, but they know there has to be a way to guide them back onto the right path. They're their twin. That will never change. "I will," they say, glancing over their shoulder one last time before they mount their horse. They haven't given it a name yet--they probably should. It may be a stolen horse, but it's decidedly theirs now.

They take the reins in their hands, the sun casting a long, black shadow on the snow beneath them as they start the ride back to Tenacitas.

It's a lonely, difficult journey, one with few stops and fewer distractions from their thoughts. They've fought so hard to look brave in front of Sorine and Mauragan, but they aren't brave. They've never been brave. They've been shaking since Callocast, fighting with the flood of memories that they know aren't theirs, trying to stay strong when the whole world is falling apart around them. They know Tallin would never comfort them the way they need to be comforted. But seeing them alive would be enough. They miss them.

They don't know what to do with the memories. They see them when they sleep at night, huddled in their travel-cloaks for warmth in caves and burrows. They see Ashira's sad red eyes staring at them around every corner, feel as if it's their own soul melting. The fire in their chest is new. They don't see spinning stars. They can't find lost things like Isri can. But something in them, deep down, has changed.