Page 5 of All the Wandering Light

First he was imagining himself back on Raksha, and now he was seeing Kamzin’s fox. Next he would be imagining Kamzin herself lurking in the shadows, her large eyes, framed by their dark lashes, narrowed with fury—the way she had looked when she tried to kill him.

His urge to linger on that quiet bank had vanished. Now he wanted to move, to watch the miles dissolve beneath him. He changed back into an owl and launched himself into the air, silent as a ghost.

Three

THE CAVE WAS quiet and still, shadowed in the early morning light. Nothing stirred on the snowy plain, and I saw no footprints. Given the wind last night, I told myself, that wasn’t unexpected.

“Stay back,” I ordered Azar-at. “Remember—”

You wish to keep secrets from friends, the creature said. I remember.

I stopped short. “That’s not—”

I understand secrets, Kamzin.

“I bet you do,” I muttered. Azar-at crouched behind a drift of snow, tail wagging. I left it there and headed for the cave. Ragtooth trotted at my side, light enough to tread atop the snow. I wished that Biter was still with me, but the raven had soared off somewhere as soon as the winds had died, and hadn’t returned.

No smoke rose from the cave. Surely that was to be expected too, given their low supply of firewood.

“Lusha?” I called. “Tem?”

Silence.

My pace quickened. Despite my weariness, I was almost running. Ragtooth reached the cave first, peering inside with a plaintive sound. I was right behind him.

The cave was empty.

Strewn across the floor were the ashes of the fire, scattered by the wind. An empty satchel lay on its side, dusted with a fine layer of snow. The cave looked as if it had been abandoned months ago.

I backed out, panic rising in my throat. The blushing sky, still streaked with shooting stars, seemed oppressive, as did the mountain. It was all too vast, too silent.

“Tem! Lusha!” I yelled. My voice didn’t echo—the wind carried it off, dead, as soon as it left my mouth. I was almost too exhausted to shout. “Mara!”

Find Lusha and Tem. The words had been an endless refrain as I descended the mountain. They now took on a mocking quality. Find Lusha and Tem. Save Azmiri.

Ragtooth had his snout to the ground, sniffing around the mouth of the cave. I saw myself and River finding it, staggering inside after an exhausting day. We had talked for hours that night, until I drifted asleep, feeling warm and safe. And then, after Lusha’s expedition followed ours, and River abandoned us all, my sister and I had sat here holding a statue of our mother, an explorer many times braver than me.

That brought me back to my senses. If something terrible had happened to Lusha and Tem, why would they have taken the trouble to gather up their belongings?

“Kamzin?”

I whirled.

Behind me was a thin figure, his chuba torn and stained with blood, his normally smooth, chin-length hair a dark tangle. Yet he stood upright, and his cheeks were flushed from exercise. His eyes, as they met mine, were filled with an undiluted joy that almost stopped my heart.

I was in his arms before either of us could draw another breath. The dragon perched on Tem’s shoulder gave a chirrup of alarm and leaped into the air. Tem’s shoulders shook, and I realized he was laughing. I began to laugh too, a wild sound that took my breath away and made me fear I would never stop.

We drew apart. I could barely believe my own eyes. When I had last seen Tem, he couldn’t lift his head, let alone walk. Yet apart from the weight he’d lost and the shadows under his eyes, he seemed almost well.

“I thought—” we both began at the same instant. I laughed, but the humor had died from his eyes.

“You look . . .” He stopped, and I felt a shiver of alarm. Did he know about Azar-at? If so, how? Could he somehow see the missing piece of my soul, like a hole in a piece of cloth?

“You look like you’ve been through something,” he finished. He touched my face, and I was surprised by the whisper of pain it brought. Of course—the driving hail last night had cut me, and I was covered in bruises.

I eased back slightly. “Lusha?”

“She’s fine,” he assured me. “Mara too. We recovered the tent yesterday and pitched it on an outcrop nearby. Lusha wanted to be somewhere with an unobstructed view of the sky.”