He hesitated. “All right,” he agreed.
He waited until it was fully dark and she was asleep, then he rose from their bed and slipped from their shelter. He walked steadily from there, not looking back, trying not to think of what he was leaving. The air was cool and still, and the sky was filled with stars. The way was brightly lit, the path easy to follow. He took time to recall memories of his days with the Ghosts, of their life in the city and then on the road, of each of them in turn, calling up their faces and holding them before him in his mind like pictures from a camera. He wished he could have said good-bye to them, could have told them how much they meant to him, could have tried to convey what he was feeling.
But that would have been so difficult. There was no easy way to say what needed saying. He would have to trust that they would be able to imagine the words he would have said simply by knowing him.
“THERE IS NO NEED TO BE FRIGHTENED, Hawk,” the King of the Silver River says, smiling. “Your magic will protect you. There will be no pain. There will only be peace.”
“What am I to do?”
“You are to go to the head of the pass that brought you into the valley. You will know what to do when you get there.”
He already knows, although he doesn’t say so. He thinks, again, that perhaps he has always known. He has brought his followers to this place of safety, brought them through the wilderness and out of the path of the destruction that is coming. Only one thing remains in order for them to be made secure. Only he can provide it.
“It is because of who you are,” says the old man. “A gypsy morph, a creature of wild magic, a giver of special gifts. To those you lead, you give the gift of life.”
THINKING OF IT NOW, he hoped that it was true. He needed to believe that it was why he was making this journey. He needed to feel that it mattered in the way he wanted it to.
As he climbed into the mountains from the valley floor, he paused to look back. The starlight was bright enough that he could see to the far horizons. Bits and pieces of the valley floor were visible, as well. From the camp he had departed, a few lights glowed in the darkness. Not everyone was sleeping. He experienced a sudden urge to turn back, to return to what he so badly wanted to hold on to. But the urge came and went, and he began to climb once more.
When he reached the head of the pass, he stopped to collect himself. He was visibly shaking by now, and his fear of what was going to happen was almost overwhelming. He replayed in his mind the words of the King of the Silver River, reassuring himself that the old man would not have lied. He reminded himself of his origins, of the power that was given him at birth, of the magic that had served him so well. It would not fail him now, he told himself. Nor would he fail in his duty.
It was a duty, after all. It sounded strange to say so, but it was what he had been given to do. To keep them protected. To keep them safe. Those he had brought to this place, friends and family and strangers alike. They were his responsibility, and he must embrace that responsibility as a soldier would his duty.
Still.
He squeezed his eyes shut and whispered Tessa’s name.
“HOW CAN I JUST LEAVE THEM?” he asks the old man. “My wife and child, my friends, all those who care about me?”
The King of the Silver River places a hand on his shoulder. “You won’t be leaving them forever. Only for a little while.”
Hawk does not know what he means, but he is not reassured. Leaving them at all seems wrong. He thinks that this is unfair, to require him to do this after he has already done so much. He did not ask for this responsibility. He did not ask to have his life directed so. All he has ever wanted is a family, and now it is to be taken away from him. How can anyone make such a sacrifice?
“I don’t know if I can do this,” he says.
“I don’t know that, either,” the old man agrees. “Yet you must.”
HE LOOKED WESTWARD then across the vast reaches of the empty, barren land the caravan crossed in coming here, and was reminded anew what the rest of the world was like. In that moment he was reminded, as well, of the dark and twisted place the world would become in the aftermath of the approaching destruction. He could not allow this valley, this newly found haven, and all those he had brought here to live, to fall under that shadow. He could not permit such a monstrous subversion.
But he would be doing so if he failed to act now, as the King of the Silver River had told him he must.
There was no point in waiting any longer.