Page 38 of All the Wandering Light

“Like I did before,” I said. “Can you tell me how?”

Close your eyes.

I didn’t move—or blink. “Do you understand what I’m asking?”

Yes, Kamzin.

“I don’t want to take anything from him,” I said. “I just want to see through his eyes.”

I understand.

Trepidation washed over me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was talking past Azar-at somehow. But didn’t it always feel like that? And wasn’t it essential to understand what the witches were up to? My heart thudding, I closed my eyes.

Think of River.

I thought of River. I saw his mismatched eyes, so jarring at first glance, the hint of a smile at the corners. His messy hair, the scattering of freckles across his nose, which in some lights made him look younger than he was, boyish. I couldn’t picture River as a boy. It seemed impossible that he hadn’t simply stepped fully grown from the shadows, capable of unerring navigation in whiteout conditions and moving like the wind over the most treacherous terrain.

That was the last thought I had before everything dissolved.

I stood in a forest clearing. The trees were blackened, twisted—many almost leafless. They knitted together overhead like a cage, and the air was heavy with smoke that seemed to emanate from the ground. It was dark, so dark.

I knew immediately that something was wrong. This was not like the other visions I had experienced. In those visions, I had been River. The connection had been seamless. Now I saw the world from behind River’s eyes, but there was a distance. And I was very much myself.

“Esha!” River shouted, and I started. River’s voice was different—he was young, possibly six or seven.

I wasn’t seeing the present. I was seeing the past.

Part of me began to panic—this wasn’t what I wanted. Azar-at had tricked me. Another part of me watched in awed fascination.

River continued walking, pushing through sharp underbrush, shouting his brother’s name. His voice was hoarse—how long had he been out here, lost? For clearly he was lost, judging by how often he paused to study the stars through the thicket of branches. Something darted past, something that whispered like a ghost. But River, perhaps accustomed to their presence, didn’t look, so I couldn’t either. Though I had only been there a few moments, I hated this place. The burned trees were alive, but in a ghoulish, unnatural way.

“Esha!”

It was strange. I saw through River’s eyes, but I could only see flashes of his thoughts. River wasn’t cold, barefoot as he was, but he was hungry and tired. Esha had brought him here, promising a game—they had walked for hours. Then Esha had hid himself, which had been part of the game, but this, he knew, was not. River stopped to examine the sky again, then readjusted his course. Part of me marveled at it—there were only a few stars in the scrap of sky visible through the branches. Even I couldn’t have found my way by them.

Something was moving through the forest, making little effort to conceal itself. A young man stepped out of the trees.

He was tall and broad, with a frowning face and lank hair that hung past his shoulders. He would have been handsome, in a coarse sort of way, but for the fierce glint in his eyes that made me want to take a step back. When he saw River, his expression lightened.

“Thought I’d have to walk all the way to the headwaters before I found you,” he said, in a voice that was surprisingly gentle for such an intimidating man. “And what are you doing out here? Don’t you know the wolves have returned to this part of the forest?”

“I’m not afraid of them,” River replied. Beneath his confidence was a surge of relief. It wasn’t relief that Sky had found him—it was relief that someone had been looking. River wasn’t used to being noticed, and felt momentarily overwhelmed. And now, he thought happily as he ran to his brother’s side, he would have an entire afternoon alone with Sky.

“I caught something,” River announced proudly, displaying the mangy crow he had been carrying. Its wings were splayed and hardening—it must have died several hours ago. “You won’t have to go hunting today.”

“I see.” Sky’s nose wrinkled slightly. But he added, “Well done. You’ll be catching hares and geese in no time.”

“I’m faster than them.” River’s thoughts were full of his brother’s praise, and he needed to prove himself worthy of it. “Quieter too. I snuck up behind him and snapped his neck. He didn’t see it coming. I’ll bet I could sneak up on a wolf, if I tried. I could sneak up on one of the emperor’s soldiers. They wouldn’t—”

“Don’t speak of that.” Sky’s voice was sharp—it cut through the background murmur of the forest like a knife. “If you see a soldier of the Empire, you will not go near them.”

River was startled. He searched for a way to correct his mistake. “I didn’t—”

“River.” Sky knelt so that he was at River’s eye level. “If you see a soldier—or an explorer, or anyone else of the Empire, you will run. Is that clear?”

River nodded, relieved to have been given a way to make things right. He didn’t point out that Esha bragged about having once killed a soldier. Esha had led him here, and then abandoned him. Esha had once threatened to kill him for following him and his friends. River would do what Sky wanted. It wasn’t even a choice.

The scene changed.