Destiny's Blood by Marie Bilodeau (best authors to read .TXT) 📗

helped Avienne, carefully guiding her feet onto backs instead of limbs. She tried to avoid looking at faces, to ignore slight shifts or small noises. She didn’t look at the few others who were getting up, looking for their loved ones or simply staring in shock. Avienne stumbled a few times and caught herself on bodies. Yoma tried her best to hold her up, wishing that the surface beneath her wasn’t so squishy.

The queasiness in Yoma’s stomach wasn’t helped by the smell of the blood. It quickly became unbearable. Unable to help herself, she closed her eyes, bent over and vomited.

She quickly stood back up without looking at the ground and held her hand out to Avienne again, resuming their descent. Avienne said nothing, but Yoma guessed from her tight features that she felt quite the same.

They took a few more steps and reached ground. Neither Yoma nor Avienne looked back.

A shadow was scaling the riverbed quickly and moving towards them. Yoma stopped supporting Avienne and pulled her gun free, relieved that it hadn’t tumbled from its holster.

“Shoot, no questions,” Avienne urged from beside her.

“That will get you supplies,” the deep, familiar voice said. Zortan jumped gracefully to the riverbed. “But it will deprive you of my wonderful company.” He approached them, carrying a couple of bags.

“Blood and bones! We’re on a pile of bodies and he goes pillaging!”Avienne smiled, and this time the light did reach her eyes. “We could make a smuggler out of you yet!”

“Or a thief,” Yoma said with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe we should go into business.” Avienne leaned her weight back on Yoma, her one good leg already tiring.

“Maybe we should get out of here.” Zortan said. He looked questioningly at Avienne.

She winced. “Sprained it.”

Zortan gave a low chuckle. “Only a Malavant could take such a fall with little harm. Remind me to tell you stories of your father, one day.”

Avienne grinned widely at the idea, sitting down carefully with Yoma’s help.

“There’s not much time, so I’ll just make you a quick splint. I can carry you afterwards.”

“You can splint me, Zortan, but no carrying. It’s really not my thing.”

“Suit yourself, but don’t slow us down,” he said. Yoma winced, watching him trap the ankle with wood and fabric. Avienne’s face turned paler and more taut with each of the man’s abrupt movements. Still, she said nothing. When he was done, she got up on her own and managed a weak grin.

“Shall we?” she asked.

Zortan nodded and picked up the pack, pointing toward the west. “The capital is that way, and so is the main temple.”

“The Temple of Mirial,” Yoma whispered, a chill travelling down her spine.

“Don’t you go all creepy on me, too,” Avienne pleaded. She searched out Yoma’s eyes, and Yoma managed a weak smile.

“Let’s go,” Zortan said.

Layela, stay safe. Yoma cradled the promise in her heart: her sister’s blood would not be shed.

i

Layela’s fingers bled, the nails cracked and broken, the skin dry and dirty. She had covered the grave with her two hands, forgetting any tools, wanting to feel the earth that would forever hold her friend.

Josmere. Layela lay on the earth and covered her friend’s grave with her body, soaking the ground with her tears. The earth was so dry that it greedily swallowed them. She imagined her tears reaching Josmere, and the thought calmed her.

“She might still be alive down there,” she whispered to the earth.

“It’s been almost an hour, Layela,” Ardin replied. She felt his hand on her back, rubbing her gently. It made her notice for the first time how cold she had become, and how her breath rose around her in thin wisps.

She sat up slowly, keeping her back to Ardin. “She was my best friend.” The words blanketed the loss in her heart, making it less sharp but more enduring.

“I know.” Ardin wrapped his arms around her to warm her. She leaned back onto his strong frame, cradled by his arms, warm and safe. She remained quiet, imagining she heard a familiar tune on the wind, letting it soothe her spirits, and she even allowed herself a smile. She realized the music was only in her mind, but she softly sang it to the earth below, to Josmere’s blood. It was a promise of life, to the past and the future that could now never be.

Rise gentle flower, rise with the rain,

Rise my love, dare to bloom again,

Shine like the sun, like the light of day,

Shine, shine forever, always with me stay.

She sang it over and over again, and Ardin hummed along with her after a little bit. The tears ran freely down on her cheeks, tumbling in the red light and soaking Josmere’s grave.

The vision of Josmere’s death was already growing dim. She knew that she had felt different, in her vision. Here, she felt some peace. In the vision, she had felt only pain and anger.

Although the end result was the same, it was like night and day. She let her head fall back onto Ardin’s shoulder, felt his breath as though it was her own, and tried to recall her vision of his death. She had seen it, this she knew, but she couldn’t envision it now. She could hear bells on the edge of her consciousness, but that was all.

“I don’t believe things are meant to turn out only one way,” he suddenly said. It was as though he had heard her thoughts. “I don’t believe that there’s only one path for us, and that no matter what choices we make, we will wind up at the same destination. That makes no sense.”

He took a deep breath, and she let herself feel it with him.

“I know your visions tend to come true,” he continued, his voice soft and his breath warm on her ear and neck. “But I think it’s just something that’s likely to happen, based on how people have made their choices so far. So if one element changes, then I don’t think what you’ve seen has to be.