43. A Brisk Stroll (Vaye)¶
“I have no blessings for you this time,” Teira said before they departed. She tugged Vaye’s hood down a bit further to hide her still-glowing veins. “I think you’ve got quite enough divinity on your side.”
Vaye was still struggling to understand the Guiasa’s kindness. They had left for the House of Breezes with Jovadão and three other Feiçeira, and returned with only Adranaya. The Feiçeira leader had every right to be enraged, but had instead displayed only patience and generosity. Perhaps this was why she was their leader, because of her ability to inspire though magnanimity.
Or perhaps it was because she’d tried to have Adranaya killed.
When they’d arrived at the safehouse, Teira had taken Gadarien aside for a debriefing. Vaye hadn’t been able to hear their conversation, but the tension had been obvious. Gadarien had apparently accepted the Guiasa’s justifications, though, because he’d returned to planning their escape without another word.
Traversing the Eyewall would have to be done by daylight, so they’d caught a few hours of desperately-needed sleep. Vaye felt physically refreshed, but her mind was still processing everything that had happened since her fateful decision to break into Yobaza’s office. So many questions unanswered. She couldn’t even explain some of her own actions.
The battle to escape the School kept replaying itself every time she closed her eyes, the way she’d been consumed with glorious abandon, the fulfillment of all her violent fantasies. Surely such behavior deserved to be met with fear, even disgust, yet Gadarien and Jovadão had met it with respect. The more she indulged her base instincts, the more people seemed to respect her.
And now she was performing the same act that had almost dropped the School’s bell on her class. This time, she knew to expect the careening, reckless joy, and hoped to catch it before it got out of hand. The intimacy the three of them had shared seemed to intensify the emotional current, making the flowtree feel deeper and more solid than it had during the Quartertrial. Gadarien’s connection was almost painfully intense, like holding onto a bolt of lighting.
Connecting to Adranaya felt like drowning.
Vaye had been even more nervous putting the thorns back into Adranaya than she’d been taking them out. The temporary thorns lacked the structure to weave themselves deep into nerve fibers, making them easier to endure. Still, the first pin had been like stepping into a fast-moving river, the icy shock of Adranaya’s pain threatening to pull Vaye under. The Sarmalan’s consciousness was detached from her memories, hovering above the abyss, but Vaye could feel the trauma’s hungry, sucking horror, itself merely an echo of what her friend had gone through. But what truly saddened her was what wasn’t there anymore, some vital spark that had been snuffed out. By the time she put in the last thorn, Vaye could barely see through her tears.
The time for mourning would have to come later, though, after they survived the Eyewall. If they survived. According to Teira, the walk was barely the length of the School, a few minutes in ideal conditions, but Vaye could hardly think of less ideal conditions. The ground within the Eyewall was bare rock, the soil having long ago been blasted away. It would be slippery, crisscrossed with channels of swift-moving water and ankle-snapping holes. They’d be lashed by tremendous winds, assuming they didn’t get struck by lightning first.
“Ordinarily, you could enter upstream and cross diagonally—a longer walk, but going with the wind, and avoiding this ridge,” Teira said, indicating a line on the rough map she had sketched. “But the only access point that’s not being watched is directly across from the tunnel mouth. The good news is that the ridge will lead you right to the tunnel.”
“I don’t suppose you have any climbing gear?” Gadarien said.
Teira shook her head. “Lost all that in the raid. But you have plenty of rope.”
Vaye refrained from making a joke about just hanging herself and avoiding the hassle, but Gadarien glanced at her as though he knew what she was thinking. Which he probably did, given the flowtree. “No point in putting it off, then,” he said.
Teira nodded. “Be careful in Rilão. Things aren’t the same as they were when you left. The Tementeira have grown stronger.”
“We’ll move quietly,” Gadarien said.
Teira smiled and gently laid her hand on his chest. “Before you go, I want you to know that you’re a credit to Cantereia. Jovadão would have said the same.”
Gadarien straightened. His emotions surged along the flowstream, a swell of pride and sadness, determination and grief and anger. Vaye was sure she would have sympathized with him anyway, but the feeling was far more meaningful with the amplification of his emotions.
The Guiasa laid her hands on Adranaya’s shoulders, squeezing them comfortingly but saying nothing. Then she embraced Vaye and whispered into her ear. “Don’t follow her into the abyss.”
Vaye stepped back, confused, but Teira’s gaze held a warning, conveying that the message had been meant for her alone. She glanced at Adranaya uneasily. Had Teira detected something Vaye had missed? Another troubling thought to deal with later, which she tossed onto the ever-growing pile.
They left the safehouse under a sky that was just beginning to lighten. The city was waking up, shopkeepers and artisans sweeping the pavement or opening their booths. The three of them kept their heads down, sticking to quiet streets and back alleys until they reached the western edge of the Cantereian Quarter.
The service tunnel leading out of the city was narrow and stank of mildew. It had been created while the Eyewall was being raised, then forgotten for generations until a Feiçeira noticed some odd acoustics. The far end opened straight into the Eyewall, its wooden slats separating Thelenza from the raging storm. From the inside, an eerie, high-pitched whine and an occasional rattle were the only signs of what lay beyond.
“Remember, we follow the ridge straight across. The entrance should only be a few dozen paces out,” Gadarien said, tying the rope off around his waist. Vaye would go first, followed by Gadarien in the middle, and Adranaya at the back, the flowstream forming an invisible second cable between them. Gadarien’s fear and determination raced along it, mingling with Vaye’s own. Adranaya’s muted emotions contrasted sharply with Gadarien’s, but perhaps that was for the best.
“Ready?” Vaye said. They nodded, and she unlatched the door, barely dodging it as it slammed open and cracked against the tunnel wall. They staggered forward into the blast of cold air.
The ridge began a short distance down a treacherous hillside. What little of the ground she could see was dark rock, slippery as ice, scoured smooth by years of wind and water. Vaye almost lost her balance twice before they even got to the ridge, pinwheeling her arms to stay upright. The rain lashed her face, the gusts snatching at her clothes like an angry mob. She was fully drenched within seconds, and very glad that Teira had given her an oilcloth bag to keep the ancient Anashic scroll dry. She glanced back, but could barely make out Gadarien except when lightning flashed far above.
The ridge had once been a sharp fold of stone buried under layers of soil, but the years had turned it into a flattened hump pocked with shallow pools and divots. On the steep windward side, torrents of water drove angrily against the rock until they forced their way through a few narrow channels. The leeward side was less steep, but smooth as glass, sheets of water flowing away into the darkness. In some places, a thin, nearly-invisible layer of algae clung to the rock, making the footing even more treacherous. If they fell to the windward side, they would break their legs or be dashed against the rock. If they fell to the leeward side, they would slide down and have no way to climb back up.
They inched along the ridge, crouching down or crawling on all-fours. Vaye’s palms and fingers were soon scraped bloody from gripping the rock, her skin rendered soft by the water surging across her hands.
She didn’t see Adranaya fall, but she felt it through the flowstream, a split second of panic followed by a sudden change in position. Without thinking, she leapt off the ridge in the opposite direction, straight into the gale. She landed hard, managing to turn her momentum into a roll that saved her from breaking an ankle, but bruised her ribs. Her elbow cracked against a rock, sending a shock of numbness up her arm. Still, she counted herself lucky that she hadn’t gutted herself with her own tzashim.
A rivulet of cold water streamed around her as she forced herself upright, the rope digging into her waist. She spat out a mouthful and pushed her wet hair out of her face. Above her, Gadarien stood holding one side of the rope with each hand, straining to keep Adranaya from dragging him away.
“Pull her up!” Vaye shouted, grabbing the rope. “I’ll anchor you!”
Gadarien nodded, grimacing, and began hauling Adranaya back up the algae-covered slope. His arms were trembling by the time Adranaya hooked a leg over the rock, lying exhausted as the storm ravaged her. Vaye’s climb back up would have been impossible if not for Gadarien’s help, but she could feel what it was costing him through the flowstream. She didn’t know how he’d make it the rest of the way.
They huddled atop the ridge for a while, trying to recover enough strength to continue as the storm raged around them, ripping away their warmth. Vaye desperately wanted to rest, but if they didn’t continue, they’d never make it. Summoning the very dregs of her will, she pushed herself up.
“Grab the rope around my waist,” she called to Gadarien. He did so, and Adranaya did the same behind him. Vaye closed her eyes, the roar of the storm blurring around her as she sought her Balance Point. She held their positions in her mind as she crawled forward, feeling out the route first and using it to guide their movements behind her. Their exhaustion broke down any barriers to her will. They moved together like a spider, balancing with eight points of contact on the rock.
She couldn’t have said how long they crawled that way. It felt like hours. But eventually the smooth slope on the leeward side turned into a steeper drop-off. Cut into the leeward side of the ridge was a small opening. Hanging over the edge, Vaye hooked her hands around the lip and they dragged themselves inside.
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