I’d started to think we’d find her in time, and I knew Kingston would do everything he could, but that completely shattered my expectations. I was so immediately frustrated with myself for getting my hopes up that I slammed my fists down on the surface of the table. Kingston wasn’t alarmed, but the heavy thump startled my mother, and I felt her flinch against me. I set my elbows on the table and buried my face in my hands, taking a long few seconds to let it fully sink in and to calm down. I couldn’t keep doing this. Couldn’t keep reacting with these outbursts that scared or offended the people I cared about.
It took a minute, but I managed to regain control of my emotions. Bottling them back up, I lowered my hands and nodded at Kingston. “Send the birds,” I agreed. “Thank you.”
It didn’t even look like Kingston had finished his porridge, but he stood to go and do what he could. He disappeared out the entrance of the dining hall, and not knowing how else she could help, Rhien gave my shoulder a squeeze and walked away too. I let out a heavy sigh, folding my arms across the table and letting my head fall onto them. The only thing I wished was that there was more I could do, even were it helping to send the messages to Kingston’s spies. But I couldn’t even do that, because I couldn’t write. All I could do was sit here, fretting over whether or not we’d get to Ava in time and worrying everyone around me. It was torture, and already there was a tense clump of anxiety in my chest.
A hand set on my back after a while, and I picked up my head to look at my mother. “Are you hungry?” she asked. I murmured a negative. “Come then, my sweet girl.” She kissed my temple and then stood with Nilson. “The morning sun will do you good.”
And there was nothing else I could do, so I followed her and Nilson to the meadow just outside the entrance of the caves. While Nilson ran off to play with the other children who were out here, my mother took me over to a rock, on which she’d hover to watch over Nilson. She sat down on it, and then motioned to the grass in front of her. I lowered myself where she’d pointed, and once I’d leaned back against her knees, she began to run her fingers through my hair to undo the braid.
It did nothing to take away the stress I was feeling about finding Ava, but it was soothing. The air was still chill, but I was facing the rising sun, and I had to close my eyes against the brightness of it as it warmed my skin. My mother’s fingers pressed into my scalp and combed through my hair, and it was so relaxing that my head fell back into her lap. The children were playing and laughing and, with my eyes closed, it painted such a vivid picture of happiness that I almost forgot myself. It was the first time in six months I’d felt so cared for, and that wasn’t my mother’s fault. She’d tried to comfort me, many times. So many times, but I’d been too upset, or tense, or angry at the world to let anyone near me.
For a long span of minutes now, I just sat there, my mother’s fingers massaging, working out tangles and beginning to braid again. Eventually, I relaxed so much that all the exhaustion from the last six months seemed to catch up with me, and I grew so tired with my head back in her lap that I could feel myself drifting off. No matter how much I worried about Ava, I was simply too tired to keep from melting under my mother’s touch. Too physically exhausted from the lack of sleep, too emotionally drained from all the sadness and worry and guilt. So tired that I couldn’t have resisted this act of kindness and love even if I’d wanted to.
And it was that love, a love I hadn’t allowed myself to feel since I’d come to the caves, which caused my closed eyes to fill with tears. They weren’t desolate or hopeless or frustrated like every other time I’d cried the last six months. They weren’t happy, either, but I felt safe, and my mother’s touch had lowered my guard. I’d been doing everything I could not to let them see how truly depressed I was. I hadn’t wanted anyone to worry any more than they already were, but now the tiredness and comfort I felt made it impossible not to let some of those emotions I’d been bottling seep out. I didn’t break down or sob, but for the first time, I was tired enough to let my mother see me cry.
A drop forced its way through and down my temple, and I felt her thumb wipe it away. From above me, I could hear her take in a soft breath, and it took a few moments before she finally spoke. “It was always my intention that you and Nilson never get near this rebellion.” She finished braiding my hair and set to massaging her thumbs over my temples, whisking away the occasional tear. “For your father and me, it was nothing but separation. And then Kingston brought word of his death, and…” She paused, the backs of her fingers making a sympathetic stroke down my cheek. “Well, heartbreak doesn’t quite come close, does it?”
All these months, I’d been so reluctant to feel anything that I’d forgotten my mother knew what this was like. At the realization, my eyebrows converged, and I sniffled with fresh tears as I reached for one of her hands, pulling it down so I could hug it to my chest.
“My baby girl,” she said, “I see your strength.” She traced the fingers of her other hand across my forehead. “You’ve always had enough to share.” Then that hand joined the one I was holding, and she pressed her palms to the top of my chest. “Take mine now.” The weight and warmth of her hands amidst my emotions made me want to break down just as much as it made me want to steel myself. “Take what you need, and you’ll get through this.”
I picked my head up, the final few tears running down my cheeks. Sniffling, I wiped them away with the backs of my hands, and I don’t know how she’d done it, but I did feel a renewed strength. It had been her touch, or her love, or her words. Maybe it had been a combination of all of these, but I blinked away the tears, and I felt ready to face the time it would take to find Ava. I felt ready to wait, and to put my faith in Kingston and that he would come through.
My mother’s hands never left my collarbones as I leaned back into her knees again. After a minute, I rested my head to the side against her arm, and we sat there, watching Nilson and the other children, taking in the increasing warmth of morning. People came and went, in and out the entrance of the caves: troops leaving for scouts, hunters leaving for a hunt, loggers leaving to gather firewood. Eventually Rhien came out, and strode all the way to where we were sitting.
“Madam,” she greeted my mother, who offered a friendly smile in return. Then she lowered herself in the grass next to me, saying, “I had a thought.”
I sat forward and turned to face her, giving her my attention. “Alright.”
“Well, I trained with the mind masters, right?” She shifted toward me with the sudden earnestness of her idea, and I nodded. “You’ve been closer to Ava and Hazlitt than anyone here.” When she paused, I nodded once more, urging her to continue. “You’ve been understandably distracted the last handful of months, and perhaps there’s something you’ve missed.”
“What do you mean?”
“In your memories. A statement or a person in your encounters, something that would give us a clue about where Ava is.” Rhien shrugged, offering with some timidity, “If you allow me access to your memories, maybe we can find something.”
“With magic?” I clarified, and she nodded in confirmation.
To be honest, I wasn’t entirely comfortable with sharing memories. Some were fine, others intimate, and the ones that she probably needed were excruciating. People had details about what happened with Ava, but letting Rhien into my mind, actually letting her see what happened that day, would be letting her see my guilt. It would be letting her see more of me than anyone here had. The very idea of it was terrifying, and she seemed to notice that fear on my face.