Page 128 of Earthbound

She had been talking to herself but Alder answered. ‘You get used to it.’

‘Have you ever slept in a real bed?’

‘No. Well…I suppose I did at some point.’ She saw his lips turn down so she threw herself theatrically across her sleeping mat.

‘Imagine goose down, soft and luxurious. Wool so warm you’ll not shiver once. Or even straw! I’ll take straw over this quilted cotton.’

‘Cotton is warm too, and if you tuck in the seams here you give yourself an extra layer.’

‘Ah, but you see, Alder, it is missing the most important thing,’ she lowered her voice conspiratorially before exclaiming, ‘Bounce!’

Alder laughed. It was a hiccup, really, barely enough breath to convey amusement, but she would take it.

His mood remained lifted throughout dinner–dried fish and stale bread, the last of their rations. When they went to sleep that evening, Lettle felt lighter than she had in weeks.

Whether it was the talk of beds or her proximity to Rayan, her dreams were filled with him. His smile, his gaze, his hands…

‘Come home to me, Lettle,’ he whispered against her collarbone. ‘Come, come, come.’

She woke bathed in sweat, her fingers entwined in the curling hair between her legs, her lips trembling from the lingering sensations of her dreams.

The night was still, except for the panting of her breath. Alder slumbered quietly beside her, Mortah on her other side. The silkvine swayed softly in the breeze beneath them.

But something felt odd.

Lettle crawled carefully to the edge of the silkvine and looked down. The obeah were indiscernible from each other, an undulating pool of black ink, their flashing eyes the only indication they were there at all.

A bat swooped low, making her jump. She settled a hand on her beating heart, urging it to calm.

There was nothing and no one out there. Just the darkness and her tumultuous thoughts.

She reached for her prophecy talismans and settled her back against a eucalyptus tree. It was the first time she had used her tokens since she had prophesised in the sanctuary. Her conversation with Afa had stayed her hand more than once.

‘And the Fates you call to, tell me, how much damage have they done to you and your life?’

He didn’t know about Rayan’s death, he couldn’t–yet he’d unearthed a truth so raw and painful she’d had to look away.

Were the Fates just as dangerous as he had supposed?

She rolled the little dice in her hands, feeling the rough carvings of all the organs. Then she looked up into the sky.

Is the truth too dangerous to seek?

Alder snored behind her. She looked at his peaceful face, marvelling at the smoothness of his features. He looked so serene. But she knew if he opened his eyes, his gaze would be irreparably touched by a darkness that would never leave him.

She’d asked if he regretted learning the truth earlier on their journey.

He thought for a long time before he answered. ‘No.’

‘Why? It seems to torture you so.’

‘It does, but the not knowing was a kind of torture too. I never felt truly whole; at least now I know why I feel that way. Ignorance is a cage; and that cage can be lovely, well decorated, homely even. But the truth is freedom; it is opening the door to let the breeze in, even if sometimes that breeze can become a hurricane.’ He drew in a deep breath and added, ‘Life is both the rose and the thorn. To grow you must have both.’

‘Life is both the rose and the thorn,’ she whispered to herself now, the talismans in her hands.

She threw them against the silkvine before she could change her mind, then she asked the Fates: ‘How do we get back into Mosima?’

She felt the same thrill she always did when she saw those little pearls of silver swirling through the talismans. But this time she was struck by a thought: the little balls of light looked just like the souls.