“The shamans believed the witches left something in the sky city,” Tem said. “Some ancient power. Perhaps a talisman.” He ran his thumb along his jaw, a gesture he made whenever he was lost in thought. “Did Chirri ever mention anything?”
I thought back. Chirri had spent hours, in the early days of my apprenticeship, instructing me on the history of the Empire and the surrounding lands, and of the creatures, both magical and nonmagical, who dwelled there. It was the role of the village shaman to know such things—they lived long lives and were often called upon to advise the elder. But as my ineptness at magic grew more apparent, Chirri abandoned these efforts, declaring that if I lacked the mental faculties to master spells even children could cast, I couldn’t be trusted to advise the elder on any subject. My face burned at the recollection.
“No,” I said quietly.
“How are we supposed to find something if we don’t know what it looks like?” Dargye said.
Tem began to reply, but Aimo stood suddenly and hurried away. We stared after her, startled.
“Is she all right?” I asked.
Dargye’s expression had clouded. Without looking at me, he replied, “She’ll be fine.”
“She shouldn’t go off by herself.”
Dargye opened his mouth to argue, but I was already on my feet. After the warmth of the fire, the twilight air was almost painfully cold. My eyes watered from the chill wind that stirred the sparse grasses. I found Aimo standing by a grove of dead trees, leaning against one of the trunks as if drawing support from it.
“Is everything all right?”
Aimo nodded, wiping her face quickly on the back of her hand. Her eyes shone faintly.
“It’s your family, isn’t it?” I had noticed that, whenever the witches were mentioned, Aimo stiffened, as if steeling herself against some invisible assault. The young woman glanced at me.
“Yesterday was my daughter’s birthday,” she said. “She would have been five.”
“I’m sorry.” I felt my own voice drop to match hers. “Is there anything I can do?”
She gazed into the distance. For a moment, I thought she wasn’t going to reply.
“You already have,” she said. “I feel closer to them here.”
“Closer?” I knew that the witches had taken Aimo’s husband and child. When it happened, no search parties were launched. No one waited to hold the funeral. I tried to read her shadowed face. “What do you mean? You can’t think they’re still out there?”
Aimo turned back to me. Her expression was serene. There was no trace of the tears I had seen earlier. “I’m sure of it.”
I stared at her. “That’s why you came, isn’t it?”
She smiled faintly. Her demeanor was unnerving—the calm certainty I had always admired, though not understood, seemed to possess a different quality now. She moved away without replying, following a narrow ridge between two boulders.
“Wait,” I called. It wasn’t safe to stray too far from the fire. Aside from witches, wild animals often came down from the mountains at night to hunt.
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Dargye said, appearing behind me. Barely sparing me a glance, he headed in the direction his sister had taken. The faint light gleamed off the dagger he had tucked into his belt.
“Does she really believe that?” I couldn’t help asking. “That her family is still alive, and they’re out here in the witch lands somewhere?”
Dargye paused, gazing at me from beneath his thicket of eyebrow. His expression was weary. “Is there a reason she shouldn’t?”
“It’s impossible,” I said. “The witches have no mercy. No one they’ve ever taken has been found again.”
“What would you have her believe instead?” Dargye folded his arms. “Aimo and Jai were friends from childhood. They did everything together, went everywhere together—not unlike you and Tem.”
A flush spread across my face. Few villagers, I knew, had been surprised when Aimo and Jai married. Surely people didn’t see Tem and me in that light.
“What would you have her believe, Kamzin?” Dargye repeated. “That the witches captured her family, tortured them, and killed them? That they took their souls and condemned them to slavery? Which of the stories is she supposed to accept? Is it any wonder she chooses to hold on to some small hope, however unlikely?”
I felt lost. “She isn’t going to find them.”
“Of course she isn’t,” Dargye said. “That doesn’t mean she has to believe it.”
With that, he turned, following his sister into the gathering darkness.
THIRTEEN
BY THE TIME I returned to the fire, Tem had left to set the warding spells, while Norbu was in his tent, muttering to himself. Dargye’s words still rang in my ears, and the darkness was oppressive. I couldn’t stop thinking of Aimo, her calm refusal to accept what had happened to her family. I pictured her by the tree, alone and staring into the darkness with that expectant look on her face. She had joined the expedition on the impossible chance that somewhere, in this vast wilderness, she might find them. Was that love, or madness? Could you love someone so much that it stole your reason?
The wind seemed to have voices in it—witches’ voices, or perhaps those of long-forgotten spirits. I shook myself, trying to silence my fanciful thoughts.
I wandered to the edge of the outcrop, where two of the dragons were rolling about, biting each other’s ears. Leaning against a rock, his legs dangling over the edge of the cliff, was River.