Page 62 of Sky in the Deep
“What do you think would have happened if you’d killed me that night?” I picked at the crust of the bread in my hands.
He chewed, his eyes moving from the fire to me. “I don’t know. I don’t know if Iri would have ever known. Maybe I would never have known who you were.”
“What if he knew? What if he didn’t get there in time?”
“I don’t think he would have ever been able to forgive me.” The depth of his voice made him sound afraid.
“He’s like you.” I shifted on the stone to face him, suddenly desperate to hear the things he wasn’t saying.
His eyes changed again, falling down to the small space of stone between us. “What do you mean?”
“Family is everything to you.”
He took another bite.
“How many people have you killed?” I asked.
He turned to face me and I almost wanted to scoot back again. “I don’t know.” He pulled the axe sheath over his head and set it onto the table behind us. “How many people have you killed?”
I tried to think about it even though I knew the answer. I had no idea. I shook my head in answer. “Who was the first?”
The air between us changed—the space growing small.
“A man in my first fighting season.” He scratched his chin. “I was fighting with my father and he knocked him down. He held him up and told me to cut his throat. So I did.” He looked back at me from the top of his gaze.
“How old were you?” My voice quieted in the dark.
“Twelve. You?”
“Eleven.”
He didn’t ask who it was or how it happened and I was grateful. It was the only time I remember killing someone and feeling something other than survival. I’d been scared. And I’d been deeply ashamed of my fear.
I’d fallen asleep in our tent that night with hot tears falling down my face and my father didn’t say anything. He prayed with me for my mother’s soul and then he sat beside my cot until I fell asleep. The next day, I killed four. The day after that, three. And I didn’t cry about it ever again. But I could feel them now—those same tears that had fallen down my face as a young girl. They were fresh and raw, seeping from the same place within me. Hot against cold.
“What is it?” Fiske looked at me.
One tear rolled down my cheek and I let it. “It’s a strange feeling,” I whispered.
“What is?”
“Being so alone. I’ve never felt like this.” I looked around the dark home. “Even in Fela, I still had the Aska.” I sniffed. “I was going through each day to get back to them. But they’re just… gone. I feel like…” I caught the sob in my chest and swallowed it, suddenly embarrassed.
He leaned in closer to me. “Like what?”
My eyes ran over his face. The scruff on his jaw. The dark lashes around his blue eyes. “Like I’m a flame about to burnout.” My voice was so thin it sounded like I could reach out and break it with my fingers. “Like I’m going to disappear.”
The room quieted, the space between us sucking everything into it. His eyes dropped down to my mouth and the burning in my chest ran into the rest of my body. It found every dark, hidden place and lit it on fire.
I tried to breathe, but it wouldn’t come. I was underwater, trapped beneath that frozen lake. And as soon as he moved, it broke loose and the sound of my breath rang in my ears so loud that every thought ran like a retreating army. The heat of him hit me just before his lips touched mine and I froze, trying to feel it. That stinging, throbbing pulse beneath my skin.
I lifted my hands slowly, opening my eyes to look at him. My fingertips touched the lines on the sides of his face and he pulled his mouth from mine, looking back at me like he wasn’t sure I was still there.
His breath touched me.
Somewhere I didn’t know I could feel.
Somewhere I didn’t know existed.
