“Green hills,” Suri translated.
“Yep.” He gestured longingly with his hands at the sight. “In my village I woke up every day, and there it was right across the river. Look at it—paradise rising up into the clouds. We weren’t allowed there. That was the land of gods.” He sighed and frowned as his sight returned to the rocky world around them. “This, we were told, was our place, our divinely prescribed lot. What we deserved.” Raithe scraped his boot on the face of the stone escarpment he stood on. “In a way they were right. This land suited us: dry, hard, barren, prone to extremes of hot and cold, but…” He looked at her. “I wonder how much of that came from living here? If we all lived where you did, would we have been different?”
“Wouldn’t matter,” Suri said. “Regardless where you’re born, the world has a way of finding you and ruining everything.”
Raithe looked surprised.
She shrugged. “Okay, not everything, and maybe not utter ruin, but nothing stays the same.”
She resumed their hike along the edge of the canyon, looking for routes down. During the cold of winter, all they could comfortably handle were short explorations of the city. Sometimes Tesh or Malcolm came along, but mostly it was just her and Raithe. They had tried crossing the ford months before, but the winds and snow of Dureya were brutal. The city, with its twisting narrow streets, was sheltered but complicated. Exploring it provided just enough adventure to keep her sane. After months of darkness trapped in stone, the fortress became an uncomfortable cage, but when she and Raithe teamed up and slipped out, they were—for a short time—free. The advent of spring felt like the end of a prison sentence. They were out, the day was hot, and Suri was intent on swimming. She just needed to find a way to descend the cliff.
“There’s no way down,” Raithe told her.
She frowned.
“Wouldn’t have been nice, anyway,” he continued. “Maybe down by the Crescent in high summer it’s a fine swim. Up here in spring, it’s ridiculously cold, and I know that from experience.”
She hadn’t told him what she planned. Until she mentioned the lack of trees, the two hadn’t spoken all morning. Still, he knew. Only once before had Suri experienced that degree of harmony, that sense of comfortable companionship that had no need for questions or answers. She couldn’t help feeling a little guilty.
“Rivers age as they go downstream,” Suri told Raithe while they looked at the disagreeable gorge. “That’s what Tura once told me. They start out as tiny trickles, then in their youth and adolescence are like this, boundless energy throwing themselves heedless against unmovable rocks. Then they usually fall. Sometimes it’s a series of tumbles and sometimes one great plummet, but hitting bottom usually takes the fight out of most rivers. After that, they mellow and learn to meander around the rocks they encounter, taking life slower, easier. They spread out and grow quiet until, at last, they flow into the sea, becoming one with something greater.”
Raithe’s eyes grew glassy, his lips squeezed shut, and a moment later he wiped away tears. For the first time she was baffled.
“Sorry,” he said. “I ah…It’s just that you remind me of my sister. She would have been about your age, and she used to talk like that.” He looked at his feet. “I don’t miss too many people, but I miss her. I remember laughing when she was around. She had a way of doing that, even on the cold nights when there was no food. I can’t remember the last time I laughed. And in all honesty, being with you sometimes makes me feel a little guilty, like I’m betraying her memory.” He waved a defensive hand. “I know that sounds stupid but—”
“Not so much,” Suri replied.
“No?”
“You remind me of someone, too.”
“Who?”
Suri smiled. “My sister.”
Raithe looked at her; he was puzzled for a moment, then a smile came on his face, and he chuckled and nodded. “Must be the fur.” He reached up and ran a hand through his hair. “So, what do we do now? How about another game of Stones?”
“We could get rocks and juggle. You didn’t do so well last time. You could use the practice. Oh, and I’ve got my string! We could just bask on the ground over there, and I could show you how to do a four-handed—”
Suri had been pointing at a flat place on the plain, one of the few areas where there was grass. While she was thinking about how soft it would be to sit on, a blast of despair hit her.
“Suri?” Raithe said.
“Rocks,” she replied.
“Rocks?”
“Piles of rocks.”
“I don’t see any,” Raithe told her.
“Sadness here, terrible sadness and incredible loss.”
“That’s Dureya.”
Suri felt the sorrow welling up until she thought she might drown. That suffocating feeling rushed back, smothering her.
“Suri!” Raithe shouted as she collapsed to her knees and began sobbing.
“There’s so much anguish here,” she cried.