She cried all night and into the early hours of the morning. I knew because I could hear people begin to move about outside my door. And when there were no more tears, or she’d grown too fatigued with sobbing that she couldn’t do it anymore, she fell asleep.
I didn’t know what it meant. Didn’t know if she’d speak to me after this, or if she’d just needed something familiar to get her through the night, but I was dead tired by morning, and content enough to drift off with her in my arms.
Chapter 17
I woke before Ava. It was the third night she’d come to my room, and last night she’d finally slept more than she cried. She cried less every night, but she still wouldn’t speak to me. Not when she came here, and not during our waking hours. Nira had told me that Ava specifically asked where my room was, but when I asked why, she didn’t know. She thought that maybe Ava simply needed to be somewhere she felt safe. Thought that even if Ava could hardly bring herself to look at me, it didn’t change the fact that she still loved me. That I was the only person with who she felt she could safely break down. I wasn’t entirely sure if I believed Ava still loved me, but if this helped her, so be it.
The first two times, she’d managed to slip out in the morning before I woke, but this time I’d been so eager to know when she left that I’d slept restlessly. I woke constantly, and now the morning was early enough that I couldn’t get back to sleep. She was curled into me, but I didn’t have an arm wrapped around her because she was hugging my hands to her chest. It was at an uncomfortable angle so her fingers could stay folded with mine, but I didn’t care. I appreciated being close to her too much to care about the cramping in my wrists. My eyes were closed even though I was awake, and after lying there for a few minutes, I felt Ava’s fingers move. She shifted slightly, and then began inching her hands out of mine, and I knew she was preparing to leave.
Despite that, I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes and let her know I was awake. She wouldn’t speak to me, and she clearly didn’t want me trying to talk with her about why she kept coming here at night. I felt… awkward. And afraid. I wanted her to do things on her own time, to forgive me or speak to me only if and when she felt like she could. But I also wanted her to know how sorry I was. Wanted her to know how much the last six months had tortured me, how much I’d worried about her, and how hard I’d been trying to find her.
Doing her best not to shift the bed, she slipped out from under the covers, and when I could hear her bare feet retreating toward the door, I finally opened my eyes. I watched her get halfway, and then I watched her stop. She just stood there in the middle of my room, as if hesitating about leaving or like maybe it wasn’t easy for her to slip away without saying anything. I wanted her to be thinking that she should come back. That she should slip back into the covers and return to sleep, or that she should wake me to say something. The hesitation didn’t last forever. After a short few seconds, she continued to the door.
“Ava…” I prompted as she reached for the handle, unable to mask the sadness in my voice. She froze, and though she didn’t release her grip, she didn’t leave. But she didn’t turn to look at me either. “You don’t have to say anything,” I told her, sitting up so I could talk at her back. “Nor will I force you to listen to my apology.” I don’t know if it was the grief in my tone, but her chin fell as she dropped her forehead against the door. “But I do have one. You don’t ever have to forgive me for what I did.” And I meant it, but just the thought that she might never forgive me brought tears to my eyes. “All I ask is that, when you’re ready, you let me say it… that you let me tell you how deeply sorry I am.”
Even from here, I could see her shoulders rise and fall with a deep, heavy breath. Without turning around to look at me or say anything, she nodded, and then hurried out the door. This entire thing was painful, and confusing, but I could take that nod as nothing other than agreement to my request, and that was something.
I eased out of bed and put on my civilian trousers and tunic, and then went to get some breakfast. It was later in the morning than I’d thought, so I ate alone, got scraps of meat from the kitchen to take to the she-wolf, and then decided to head out to the meadow. That was where my mother and Nilson spent a majority of their mornings, as my mother watched over Nilson and the other children he played with. My mother was in her normal spot, sitting on the rock, and Nilson was running around with Oscar and Akamar and some other boys and girls.
What I didn’t expect to see when I walked out of the caves was Ava. She wasn’t sitting anywhere near my mother. Rather, she’d sat in the grass at the far side of the meadow to lean back against a tree. There was a leaflet of paper in her lap, and it appeared she had a piece of charcoal, but though she looked ready to draw, she wasn’t. She was staring at the grass near where the children were playing, not watching any of them in particular because she was lost in her own mind. The only comfort to me was that she looked healthier. Sevedi was wonderful with her healing magic. Ava was nearly back to her normal weight, and in the bright morning sun, I could see clearly that the lively glow was returning to her tawny complexion.
I nodded at my mother in greeting, but continued past her to the edge of the woods with the meat scraps. When I got there, I let out a shrill whistle to call for the wolf. It took a minute, but eventually she stalked out of the foliage. Normally I’d have just tossed her the meat and let her go back to the forest, but this time, I knelt down.
“Come here,” I said, motioning for her. I knew from experience that she wasn’t fond of being touched—she was still wild—and the times she did withstand being touched, it was clear the affection made her tense. Now, however, I reached out with my hand, slowly and on the side of her good eye. “I know we’re not the best of friends,” I said, scratching behind her missing ear, “but I need to ask you a favor.”
The wolf sniffed the air, so deliberately that I knew it to be a request for the meat she could smell. I dropped the scraps into the grass in front of her, running my hand through the fur at her shoulder and then letting it fall, because I knew better than to try and touch her while she ate.
“You see that woman over there?” I asked the wolf. “Sitting alone.” She didn’t stop chewing, but her head turned so she could glance with her good eye. “Will you keep close to the caves, and when she comes out here, will you watch over her?” Before I could garner any kind of response from the wolf, the leather ball the children were playing with landed nearby, and one of the children ran to retrieve it. The wolf’s lip curled at the proximity, the hair on her neck rising in warning even though the child didn’t seem to notice us. “Watch it,” I warned her, “I don’t control you because you behave yourself.” The wolf huffed, ignoring the boy as he ran off and ducking her head to grab the last piece of meat. “Will you watch over Ava for me?” She swallowed down the food and stretched her nose forward in reply, nudging her snout against my palm. “Thank you,” I said, running my hand once over her head.
She dodged back into the woods, and I rose to go and sit at my mother’s side. I told her good morning and then stretched my hand out over the grass to practice my magic. I’d attempted to use that manipulation of corruption I’d seen in my ancestor’s memory, and to my complete satisfaction, it worked. I could do it, and the last couple of days I’d come out here to practice it on the grass. I rotted blades that had been chewed by a bug, spread the rot to a whole patch, and then reversed it. I couldn’t heal corruption, but I could return something to normal unless I’d completely destroyed it.