“She never said that to me.”
“You were young when you were in her care, Nasim. And there were days when you were violent. It was in your best interest to keep you confined to the village until you’d learned more. Had you stayed, she would have told you eventually.”
“Had she told me, I might have stayed.”
She smiled, though there was a note of melancholy that seemed reluctant to fade. “That is the way of things, isn’t it? We learn too late.”
“Have you come to invite me back then? All this way for one small missive?”
“ Neh, son of Ashan. I have come to give you warning. The place you are headed is dangerous.”
“And where am I headed?”
“To Ghayavand.”
To have it stated so baldly embarrassed him. It made him feel like a child to have someone so sure of his plans. “I go where I will,” he said again.
“So you’ve said, but beware. Ashan has gone before you.”
She let the statement hang in the winds between them.
“Ashan?”
She nodded over his shoulder, to the northeast, toward Ghayavand. “We believe he is there still, and if he has not returned by now, there is something amiss.”
“How would you know where he went?”
“After he left Duzol, he spoke with few Aramahn ever again. He was only seen five times that we know of, and each time in the most ancient of libraries in Aleke s ir and the Towers of Tulandan. We believe he wanted to find the way to Ghayavand, to unlock her secrets or perhaps to prepare the way.”
“For what?”
Ushai nodded and steadied herself as the wind bucked her skiff. “For you. He knew you would one day return.”
Nasim felt a great urge to look into Rabiah’s eyes, but he forced himself to keep his gaze upon Ushai. He had brought Rabiah and Sukharam out of necessity-he couldn’t do it on his own, so he had found those most like him: those gifted with the ability to touch Adhiya without stones-but he had hoped to spare Ashan from the same fate. He could not help, and so there was no need to place him in danger.
“Thank you for telling me,” Nasim said.
“There is one more gift I will grant you.” Ushai pointed northward over Nasim’s shoulder. “You’ll not find it easy to make your way to Ghayavand. Do not think of crossing by summoning the wind. Take your time, determine the wind, and then, when you’re sure you’ve judged it properly, allow the wind to take you. And if you miss the island, wait until you’re well beyond it to try again.”
“And if I don’t?”
“The wards will rend you apart and throw you to the sea.”
“How do you know?” Nasim asked.
“There are clues left from those who survived the tearing of the rift, things gleaned in the years since Oshtoyets.”
“Did Fahroz ask you to tell me this?” This seemed like the last kind of information Fahroz would want Nasim to have.
“I am my own woman. I left Mirashadal to follow my own path.” Ushai seemed to gather herself before speaking again. “And I would come, son of Ashan, if you would allow it.”
“I cannot.”
Ushai continued as if nothing had happened. She took in Rabiah and Sukharam again, her expression not condescending, but certainly judgmental. You cannot make it on your own, her expression said, certainly not with the likes of these. “You are gifted,” she finally said. “You are ambitious. Hopefully you have a plan. But you have not lived the life that I have. I can offer you much, Nasim, if only you’ll let me.”
Rabiah stared at Nasim with something akin to loyalty, letting him know she would support whatever decision he made, but Sukharam looked to Nasim as if he dearly hoped Nasim would take Ushai up on her offer.
Nasim found himself considering it. This had been a difficult journey since leaving Mirashadal, and he’d not yet reached the island. How much more difficult would it become once they touched down on her shores?
But he knew, as he had known since he’d been healed, that he could not allow himself to be clouded by the goals of another. If he had refused Ashan, he would refuse Ushai. And, he told himself, there was something about her-an eagerness he could not quite put his finger on-that he didn’t like.
“I cannot,” he said simply. “The way is clear before us, and it is a path we will follow alone.”
Ushai paused. She was clearly disappointed in his words, so much so that she began to flex her hands. She noticed it shortly after Nasim did, and she composed herself.
“Tell me where you’ll be,” Nasim said. “I will find you when I’m done. If I’m able.”
Ushai’s lips drew into a grim line. “I know not where I go. Perhaps I’ll find you.” She smiled, an insincere expression at best. “I’ve become quite good at it.”
Nasim bowed his head. “As you say.”
“Go well, Nasim an Ashan.”
“Go well, Ushai Kissath al Shahda.”
The sky was a cloudless blue, the sea below the bright shade of sapphires in the sun.
Nasim could not yet see Ghayavand, but he could feel it. His time here with Ashan and Nikandr had been one of the more lucid times of his childhood. He remembered much of it, and he remembered the feeling it gave him as welclass="underline" a feeling of profound discomfort but also of familiarity. This is what he felt now as he manned the reins of the sail and guided their skiff steadily northeastward.
Near high noon, the wind began to play with the ship, causing it to buck. Soon after, Nasim felt a strain on the bond to his hezhan. It became more tenuous, more difficult to maintain. Even so, he managed it until the island came into view, and then it became like fighting a gale.
“It’s begun,” Nasim said.
Rabiah studied the horizon while holding her gut against the magic Nasim was working with the hezhan. She looked brave. She looked prepared for what lay ahead. Sukharam, on the other hand, was studying the sea ahead while the muscles along his jaw worked feverishly.
“All will be well,” Nasim told him.
Sukharam glanced up to Nasim, and then turned his gaze away.
“Look at me, Sukharam.”
Sukharam did, though it clearly took him effort to hold Nasim’s gaze.
“All will be well,” Nasim repeated.
He nodded, putting on a smile that was clearly only for Nasim’s benefit, and then he returned to watching Ghayavand, an emerald in a field of sapphires.
Nasim let him be and focused on the path ahead. He was not entirely sure he trusted Ushai and her motives, but he believed in her warning. He told the others to release their hezhan and to refrain from communing with another until they reached the island itself.
He did not release his own, however. It was not yet time. He began to feel his vanahezhan spirit more clearly. It felt closer, as if but one small tug would pull it through the veil between worlds. He suppressed the spirit, however, held it at bay while calling it to position the skiff so that the prevailing winds-once he released the havahezhan-would carry them over the island.
It was difficult, though. The winds were unpredictable here. But he could only do the best he could. He released it when he felt the hezhan was too close.
As soon as he did, the ship was tossed about. The skiff dropped suddenly. They held tightly to the ropes that were tied around the interior of the skiff.
A sudden upsurge twisted the skiff, tipped it dangerously. Sukharam was tossed over the edge of the gunwales, but he held on, and Nasim and Rabiah pulled him back to safety.
And then the skiff began to fall once more, spinning about so quickly that Nasim lost his bearings. He was nearly ready to ignore Ushai’s advice and call upon a hezhan to help them, but the winds softened and then died altogether.
This was when he began to feel it-a subtle discomfort in his chest that began to grow the closer they came to the island. He began to cough, and soon he was forced to drop to the floor of the skiff and hold onto the thwart as his breath slowly left him in one long exhalation.