The night passes quickly, the sky darkening to obsidian, the stars giving off their heatless light. Too far away, I think. The dead who warm themselves beside those fires—my father, my mother, my brother—they are too far away to lend me any warmth.
The sky is still dark when someone stirs. I’m squatting beside the fire, feeding it another few pieces of wood, when I hear Morsk clear his throat.
“Your turn to sleep,” he says. “You’ll be useless paddling home if you’re exhausted.”
“Thank you,” I say. I stretch out beside Kol, hesitating for only a moment before I press myself against him. Before I can decide it’s the wrong thing to do, I am asleep.
My sleep is restless and short. As soon as the sky begins to lighten, my eyes are open. My cheek rests against the base of Kol’s neck. His skin is still cool. I pull away from him and sit up. Morsk startles and swings around. His spear slides in his hand.
“It’s just me,” I say, and he lets out a nervous laugh. The sound soothes me, and I realize my nerves are on edge, too.
“There’s something troubling me,” Morsk says. “Now that you’re awake, I can do something about it.”
“What is it?”
“I want to go bring back Chev’s body. I want us to bring him home.” He shuffles his feet and a cloud of dirt stirs. I can see where his boots have crossed the same ten steps of bare ground over and over. Pacing. Thinking about the body of his friend left behind in a lonely place.
“I want Chev brought home, too, but can you find him?” I ask. “And if you do, can you bring him back?”
“I’ll carry him. I’ll rest when I have to—”
“But can you find him?”
Morsk walks to the edge of the stand of trees, his back to the lightening sky in the east. “It was on the western side of the island, not far from the stream. I remember hearing it. I think if I climb down to the beach from here, then climb the trail that goes up toward the south, I’ll come to the place I found you. . . .”
He goes quiet, and I know we are both remembering that moment, when I discovered him over Chev’s body and accused him of being my brother’s murderer. “Go,” I say. “But come back before the sun is well up. I want to leave while the day is still very new.”
Morsk draws me to my feet and embraces me. It’s such a startling thing for him to do, and I’m suddenly back in my family’s hut, with Morsk standing too close, making a proposition. I pull back.
“I’m sorry,” he says. He drops his eyes and turns away. His bag slides over his shoulder and his spear rolls in his hand. “I know you can’t accept the offer I made you,” he says without turning back to face me.
“In a way I wish I could,” I answer. I’m being far too honest, I realize, but I’m too tired to censor myself. “It would be the most selfless choice. I wish I had the strength to be that selfless.”
“If you would make that choice, I would do my best to make sure you never regretted it.”
I answer him with silence. “I won’t reply to that, Morsk. I’m betrothed to Kol—”
“For now you are—”
“For now I am. And I will be loyal to my betrothed. I shouldn’t have replied to you at all.” I say this so firmly I hope it puts an end to any more talk between us.
But Morsk isn’t finished. “No matter what you decide,” he starts. This time he turns. The firelight burns in his eyes and the heat in them makes my breath catch. His face glows with an intensity I’ve never seen in Morsk, except in the midst of battle. “Can I ask you to try to find some way that you can stay with the Olen? Whether you accept my proposition or not, the Olen need your leadership.”
“I will try to stay with my clan,” I say softly. “My clan means more to me than anything else.”
Morsk raises his eyes, scans our makeshift camp, nods, and leaves. As he goes, he calls over his shoulder, “Be watchful.”
“We will,” calls a voice from behind me. “You be watchful too.”
I turn, but I know who the voice belongs to. I know who is sitting up awake, listening to my conversation with Morsk.
Kol.
TWENTY-FIVE
“Listening in?” I ask, and I immediately regret it. Why would I take an accusatory tone when I’m the one who should be accused? But I realize that’s always been my way with Kol. I’ve always pushed him away rather than admit when I’ve been wrong. I did it when I wouldn’t forgive the Manu for my mother’s death, and I’m doing it again now.
“I couldn’t help but hear,” he says, “but maybe it’s for my own good. We all need to know where we stand, Mya.” Kol must be improving. There’s only the slightest drag of illness in his voice. Warmth rushes through my chest at the thought that he may soon recover, despite the fact he may also never forgive me for what he heard me say to Morsk. “If you’re considering Morsk’s proposition to father the next Olen High Elder with you, I should probably be the first to know.”
“If you’re trying to hurt me,” I say, turning slowly to face him, “you’re doing a wonderful job.”
Kol is sitting up, his arms crossed against his chest. “If I’m trying to hurt you?” he asks. “I’m only trying to protect myself, Mya. It’s becoming more and more clear that you have no intention of leaving the role of High Elder to Seeri and coming to join the Manu with me.”
“Seeri is not ready to lead,” I say. I glance at the place where she sleeps. She doesn’t stir. “She may be someday, but she is not now. You saw her reaction to Anki and Dora in the woods. She acted rashly—”
“She was trying to avenge your brother—”
“But she was going about it all wrong! She might have killed Anki, but Dora would have certainly killed one of us. Which of us would you have been willing to sacrifice to have that revenge, Kol? Would you have sacrificed Seeri? What about Pek?” I notice my voice rising in anger and I force myself to stop and take a breath. I turn away from Kol. It’s too hard to say these words while looking at him. “Seeri wasn’t thinking. And that’s just one example. Seeri is not ready to take on the role of High Elder.”
“But you are?”
“Are you?”
“I have to be. The Divine has chosen me—”
“And she has chosen me too.”
Kol and I both go quiet. I notice the other noises all around us—the sounds of the island waking up. Birdsong. Wings fluttering up to high branches.
“I’m sorry,” Kol says after a long stretch of silence. He climbs to his feet, moves to my side, and takes my hand. For the first time since he’s been on the island, I see the warmth I’ve come to expect in his rich brown eyes. “I shouldn’t condemn you for your unwillingness to do something that I’m unwilling to do, as well. You can’t walk away from your clan at the time they need you most. I can’t do that either.” He pauses. His hand moves to my chin. His thumb traces my bottom lip but he only studies my face. He does not kiss me. Not now. Perhaps not ever again. “I suppose the next thing to say is that our betrothal is . . . what was it you called Seeri and Pek when we first met? An impossibility. Perhaps we’ve become the impossibility now.”