The Survival of Two

No Matter the Cost

Osha was unusually quiet during the trip home. Qimir turned, noticing that she'd set the small bag beside her seat. She still clutched the purple bundle, though, holding it tightly to her chest. He wondered if something had shaken her in the market. She was more than capable of taking care of herself, but he couldn't stop himself from worrying. He'd sent her out into a new environment alone, with nearly no guidance—if trouble had befallen her, it lay on his shoulders. He hadn't had much of an alternative, though. He hadn't warned Adassa that Osha would be accompanying him, and he could sense her displeasure from the moment he laid eyes on the two of them. It was a look he knew well—her hands deep in her pockets and her shoulders set back. The silent walk back to her shop was even more telling. He'd gotten rid of Osha as soon as he could after that; she couldn't be around when he explained everything to Adassa. Still, he hoped that his haste for privacy hadn't pushed Osha into any dangerous situations. Most of the population of Eriadu was ruthless—less so in the cities, but still vicious enough to warrant caution. He should have warned her.

He looked over again.

Though her posture was rigid, he couldn't see anything else out of place. No bruising, no cuts, no torn clothing. If she'd been involved in any sort of confrontation, she'd either won quickly or surrendered. He smiled, knowing it would have been the former. He'd be gentle with her for now—leave her to her silence. She probably wasn't used to the damage she could do now that she's been honing her power. The first few times like this were always the hardest; soon, though, she'd get used to the destruction she could sow. Just another way to maintain control.

Arriving back at the cave, he finally decided to press her for the events of her day. He pointed to the bag she placed on the table, asking what it was. She told him about the bread she'd bought, throwing a sliver across the room to him. He only kept half, returning the other section to her. He took a bite, savoring the delicate slice. He turned his attention to the cloak she'd hung up, curious about the garment she'd been grasping so tightly on the ship. He watched as she explained its history: the old woman, her deceased daughter, the wedding that would never be, and finally the woman's assertion that Osha must be the one to claim the cloak. He smiled, even though he could tell she felt guilty. He had expected the worst from her trip to the market, not the uncharacteristic kindness of this silver-haired woman. Osha put it on as she told him about it, spinning with a refreshing sense of youth and joy to show off the richness of the fabric. It was a beautiful cloak—deep purple with swirling embroidery. The longer she wore it, the more luminous her smile was as she continued to ramble. Her eyes shone, the dark brown pools of her irises deepening against the dusky purple. Somehow, she was even more beautiful than the fine garment she was raving about, making it look dull against her radiance.

His mind settled back on the cloak as she removed and folded it. She began to tell him about her family. She hadn't told him much in their weeks together, but he'd begun to notice that every memory she did reveal was tinged with so much pain. The stories themselves were sweet, but he couldn't help but hear the notes of sorrow that clung to her words. He couldn't ease the pain of her past, but he would do anything to prevent the tales she'd one day tell of her time with him from dripping with the same unresolved sadness. Slowly though, he noticed the pain in her voice turn to conviction. Rather than mourning her sister, Osha was determined to rescue her. He had always expected her to fight to get her sister back, and honestly, was surprised that such a declaration had taken so long. However, he also knew that such a task would be unendingly difficult: there was a reason Mae had decided to give herself up in the first place. Still, he had to admire Osha's fiery dedication. She wasn't ready for such an undertaking yet, but as soon as she was, he would help her get her sister back—no matter the cost.