Chapter 18
Brak could have followed R’shiel’s path through the mountains with little difficulty, even had a demon not appeared to show him the way. The little grey creature was young and it could barely speak, but it tittered with concern and kept looking over its small grey shoulder to ensure Brak was still following, as it led the way through a forest carpeted in the fiery shades of autumn.
When he finally reached her he hesitated. She was sitting on the edge of a precipice, dressed in dark riding leathers, her feet dangling over a long sheer drop that disappeared into mist.
“I’m not suicidal, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said without looking at him. The little demon scrambled up the rest of the path and climbed into her lap.
“Did you bring him here? Traitor.”
She turned to face Brak. Her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks tear stained. “Did they send you to find me?”
“It’s a curse. All I seem to do these days is chase after you.” When he reached the ledge he sat down beside her and admired the view silently for a moment. The steep mountains were still snow capped, even at this time of year, and the air was pleasantly cool. He could see Sanctuary’s tall spires in the distance, but only because he knew they were there. To mere human eyes, the spires looked like any other steep peaks in this vast range full of them. “Korandellan was worried about you.”
“He did this to me. It serves him right.”
“Nobody meant to hurt you, R’shiel. They did it to protect you.”
“Did they know how much it would hurt when it wore off?”
“Probably not. Harshini don’t really understand human emotions. But when you came here, you were dying. They did what they had to.”
She wiped her eyes impatiently. “I know that. That’s what makes it so infuriating. You have no idea how hard it is to stay angry at these people.”
“I do know,” he assured her. “Better than you, girl. I’ve lived between two worlds for centuries.”
She glanced at him curiously. “Will I live as long as you?”
Brak shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose you will. Most half-humans seem to inherit Harshini longevity. You might fall off this precipice at any moment too, so don’t tie yourself into knots trying to predict the future.”
“Is that how you get by?”
“That and large quantities of mead,” he replied with a thin smile.
She looked at him sharply then smiled when she realised he was joking. “You don’t really fit in here, do you Brak?”
“No more than I fit in a human world. But don’t let my inability to find my niche in the world deter you from trying to find yours.”
“I was under the impression my niche was already carved in stone,” she pointed out sourly. “I am the demon child, am I not?”
“R’shiel, nobody is going to make you face Xaphista until you’re ready. Stop worrying about it. If you really are meant to tackle Xaphista, there will come a time when you won’t need to be asked. You’ll want to do it.”
“I can’t see that happening anytime soon.”
“As I said, don’t tie yourself into knots trying to predict the future.”
R’shiel did not answer him for a while. She stared out over the mountains, idly scratching the young demon behind its large wrinkled ear. Finally she turned to him, the tears under control for the time being.
“Does Tarja think I’m dead?”
The question surprised him a little. He had not expected her to be able to think things through so rationally yet. The first time he had broken through a glamour designed to suppress his emotions, he’d been incoherent for days.
“I suppose so. Nobody has told him otherwise that I’m aware of.”
“He’s done his grieving then,” she sighed. “And I will live to see him whither and die an old man. I’m not sure I can deal with that.”
“The way Tarja finds trouble, it’ll be a bloody miracle if he lives to be an old man, so I wouldn’t let that stand in your way.”
She frowned at his poor attempt at humour. “You’re pretty tactless, for a Harshini, aren’t you?”
“I’m the bane of their existence,” he agreed. “At least I was until you came along and relieved me of the title. However, it seems I am doomed to serve your cause, whether I like it or not.”
“There’s no need to be so gallant about it.” She turned back to the glorious view and was silent for a time before she spoke. “I wish I knew what to do, Brak.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to go home. But there’s a small problem. I don’t seem to have a home any longer. Sanctuary isn’t where I belong, I know that now, and I can hardly go back to the Citadel.”
“No, that’s probably not a good idea,” he agreed with a faint smile.
“What happened to Joyhinia?” she asked abruptly. “Did Tarja kill her?”
“Dacendaran stole her intellect. Then Tarja destroyed it. She lives, but she’s as innocent and harmless as a child, now. I suppose she’s on the border with the Defenders. We’d have heard if she returned to the Citadel in that condition.”
“And this Hythrun who is helping Tarja, what’s he like?”
“Damin Wolfblade? You’d like him. He’s almost as good at finding trouble as Tarja. I sometimes think it was a mistake bringing those two together. I’m not sure the world is ready for either of them.”
“And Lord Draco?”
Brak sighed heavily. “R’shiel, if you’re so anxious to see how they are, go to them. Zegarnald has already offered to take you. You can’t stay here forever and you don’t want to, anyway. Follow your instincts. Destiny has a habit of catching up with you, no matter how hard you try to outrun it. Believe me, I speak from experience.”
“Were you destined to kill my father?”
Brak stared at her, aghast at the question. It took him a moment to recover himself enough to answer her. “I don’t know, R’shiel. Perhaps I was. One of the advantages of being destined to do things, is that it can take the place of a conscience for a while.”
“Korandellan says you’ve been trying to outrun your destiny your whole life.”
“Does Korandellan often discuss my failings with you?”
“He uses you to illustrate the pitfalls of being half-human.”
Brak scowled at her but offered no comment.
“You think I should go back, don’t you?” she sighed.
“It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s what you think that counts.”
“I’m afraid,” she admitted.
“Of what?” he asked curiously. “Tarja?”
She nodded. “I’m afraid he’s accepted that I’m dead. Suppose he’s moved on? Suppose he’s found someone else?”
Brak snorted impatiently. “Suppose you stop being such an idiot! Gods, R’shiel! Zegarnald was right. You’re turning into a mouse. Have a bit of faith, girl! The man loves you. Six months wondering if you’re dead isn’t going to change that. If it has, then he never loved you in the first place, so you might as well be rid of him. Either way, put us all out of our misery and go find out for yourself instead of sitting here on the top of a mountain bemoaning your lot in life.” He did not add that Kalianah had made certain Tarja would never love another. She did not need to know that.
R’shiel glared at him, startled at his outburst. Months of the eternally accommodating Harshini had left her unprepared for a little human aggravation.