Sky Stitcher, page 19
Chapter 20
Stitches
The sun dipped below the turrets of the palace courtyard, and a navy curtain spread across the heavens. The rectangular pool, now black with night, caught the jumbled reflection of stars. The hanging baskets swayed gently overhead, moonpetal blossoms quietly unfolding to soak in the tranquil glow, and the earthy aroma of dune rushes drifted to my nose. They smelled like Rue.
I clenched my fists, elbows leaning against the balcony beneath the open archways, wondering why he hadn’t returned after my visit with the king. He couldn’t be far…the tether pulled at my heart but not with agonizing tension—just enough to remind me of its presence. My eyes traced the skyline of Rashii, looking all the way beyond the copper domes and mismatched roofs of the outskirts, beyond the city walls and to the sloping dunes of the Sundom Desert. Prisha’s rifts crackled in the vast sky above the desert, edges ablaze with sparks of gold, like fire devouring a sheet of paper. Where are you, Rue?
I paused, conflicted by the source of my worry. Had I grown so used to his infuriating companionship? Or did the twisting in my stomach stem from a place of mistrust regarding the circumstances of his disappearance?
Why had he left me? Had he done so willingly? Did it mean he’d decided to break ties with me? Would he come back? Did…something happen to him? The last thought stuck in my throat, sending a pulse of foreboding through my blood. Needing reassurance, I brushed a hand over my heart, seeking out the burdensome tether between us. It shimmered with the ethereal quality of starlight, then dissipated into the gloomy darkness. He still lived…there was that, at least. And he couldn’t be far. But the realization did little to qualm the twist of conflict in my gut.
I huffed in frustration and retraced my steps to the door for perhaps the thousandth time that evening. This time, when the door had closed with an audible click behind the guards’ departure, it refused to open. I had checked. Thoroughly. My eyes panned downward, landing on the dent in the door where I’d kicked the wood in frustration, but the slight twinge of remorse did not deter me from renewing my effort to antagonize the guards.
The brass knob rattled angrily when I shook it, but it did not turn, and the door did not budge.
“You are to stay put this evening, Daughter of Halah. For your safety.” The guard’s gruff voice floated loftily through the wood, now with an obvious edge of exasperation.
“I would like to speak with Rali.”
I imagined the guard’s carefully measured breath in the pause before he spoke again. “He is busy. There is much to prepare for tomorrow, and all of our security must be enhanced. Royal decree.” He spoke to me with the same voice one would use when dealing with a particularly willful child.
I was willful, but I was no child.
“If he expects our union to be as blessed as he hopes, he best come talk to me. Now.” I pounded the door with my fist on the last word.
“He is on duty. As I have already told you. Many times.” Well. Good to know our exasperation was mutual.
“He told me he’d take me to the Eldress. I want to speak to him.”
“I have already told you he cannot, and that you are not to gallivant through the palace on your own tonight.”
I rattled the doorknob again, clenching my teeth.
“Go to sleep, Daughter of Halah. Tomorrow is a big day. You may trust us to ensure your safety.”
The magnitude of my frustration could not be fully expressed with a mere groan, but I tried. Fists balled at my side, shoulders raised somewhere by my ears, and an unhealthy amount of boiling blood coursing through my veins, I turned my back to the door and stormed into the room.
A dark figure leaned casually against the open archway, arms folded and legs crossed at the ankle, quietly reposed with one brow lifted. “Hello, Starlight.”
The rushing wings of a startled bird took flight inside of me. How long had he been here, watching? “You could have helped me,” I said, waving a hand sharply toward the door once my initial surprise wore away,
The shadows of his wings rippled behind him as he adjusted his position. “I could have. But that would cost you.”
A guttural sound, somewhere between a screech and a roar, scraped through my throat.
“Is everything always about what you get out of it? Can’t you do anything just because you want to?”
“Not where I come from,” he answered cooly, and I flinched at the reminder of what his choice to follow me—to abandon Prisha—might cost him. The likelihood that she would unmake him if he ever returned to her domain. But a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Besides…what if what I want is to annoy you? Have you considered that?”
My gaze sharpened, and my arms crossed over my chest, hips jutting to one side, latching onto his playful tone. “Well, you don’t need to make everything a bargain,” I scolded, failing to hide my own smile.
“Can’t help it.” Rue shrugged. “It’s survival skill where I come from. And I’ve perfected the art.”
“Well, seeing as I have repetitively demonstrated my inability to harm you, maybe save that survival skill to use with someone else. I think you’re safe with me.”
He quieted for a moment, and I shifted uncertainly when his eyes wandered, slipping into an appreciative sweep of the rest of my frame. “The stars do favor you, Zara. That much I know to be true.”
I lowered my chin, glaring back at him. “Then I hope they swallow you whole.”
He laughed the most beautiful laugh, allowing a glimpse of an unguarded Rue to slip through the cracks. Unfiltered and touched by genuine happiness for a moment. “Let them,” he said, pulling himself back, but the hint of a smile still creased his eyes. “I’ll find my way back to annoy you another day.”
My lips twisted into a pursed expression, but failed miserably to blot out the smile that had worked its way to my face. The air thickened with a weighted silence, and we stood there in the quiet, trying to hold back our senseless smirks. Slowly, I remembered myself, and mine drooped. “Where were you?”
Rue’s amusement faded too, his face falling into its usual air of disinterest. “I had…business to attend to.”
I frowned at him, noting the lift of his brows and the hooded gaze of his eyes that walled him off from me. “Why do you say ‘business’ like you’re hiding something?”
Traitor. Traitor. Kill them. Let their screams echo through the void. Let them drown in the abyss of my wrath! Make the Star Thief shred the skies. She is mine.
I gasped, gripping the folds of my scarf in a clenched fist. The heart of stars glowed, projecting fine particles of light into the ethereal glow, like stardust drifting through a moonbeam. The tether binding me to Rue crackled to life, illuminated by the heart of stars, then warped into shadows. It tightened around my heart with a sharp, crushing pain that made both our faces screw into a grimace.
“What did you do?” I asked, my voice strained.
The vicelike grip squeezing my heart faded, and Rue’s shoulders slumped forward in relief, as did mine. He leaned against the wall, wings draped around his arms like a shelter, and he steadied his breath with a weary heave. His skin paled, drained of color, and I noticed how his weight favored his left side. The traveling cloak he wore frayed with gashes more numerous than the ones in the sky, and a puddle of sweat stained the front of his tunic. How had I not noticed before? Something was wrong…something he kept hidden beneath all his banter and charm.
He breathed shallowly, but lifted his eyes to meet mine. They filled with sadness, despite the brave smile he donned. “That. Yes. I—killed the Guardians she sent after us. The ones that man spoke of. They made it all the way to Rashii, but they’re no longer a concern. I bought you some time.”
His energy seemed to fail him, and his knees gave out. He hobbled unevenly to regain his balance, and I caught him in my arms as he slumped forward.
“You’re hurt,” I said, alarmed.
“Just a flesh wound.” He groaned into my shoulder. “But if there was ever a good time to practice stitching the skies…it would be now. She’ll send more. There’s no doubt about my abandonment of Prisha now.” His words slurred with exhaustion.
Venom and hell. This is all my fault. He risked…everything by following me and believing in me. He became the first and only Guardian to turn against Prisha. He risked his life.
For me.
And there’s nothing I can do to protect him in return. “I don’t know how to stitch the skies,” I admitted, the words unsavory with the taste of my regret. Rue swayed precariously in my arms, and my back protested against the strain of his weight. Lift with the legs. “Come on. You’re okay. You’ll be okay.”
Adjusting my hold to support him beneath the arms, I locked my wrists together in front of his chest and pulled. His boots dragged along the floor, streaking the beautiful tile with two dull lines as I heaved him toward the bed. My thighs screamed with each strenuous step.
Finally, he collapsed sideways onto the mattress, and the force of his fall sent my body flopping across his hips. He groaned, recoiling with a wince of pain.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered awkwardly, setting my feet back on the floor and smoothing my skirt.
Rue’s eyes scrunched closed, but he smiled. “S’alright, Starlight. Under any other circumstances, I would have enjoyed it.”
I bit my lip, insensibly amused by his confession, but my eyes wandered to the torn fabric at his thigh, landing nervously on the white-knuckled fingers covering it. Pulling the flap of ripped fabric away, I sucked air sharply between my teeth, wincing at the defined muscles coated with a slick layer of crimson, spidered with shadows. A long, clean gash trailed from his kneecap to his groin.
“Is it bad?” Rue asked. His skin was so pale.
“No. It’s not so bad,” I replied, a few octaves too high.
Rue groaned and threw his head back against the pillow. “Got any spirits?”
I stared blankly back at him.
“To sterilize it.”
Right. Sterilize. Good idea. Sweat gathered at my hairline as I bustled through the room, opening cabinets and drawers without any regard to my method. Finally, I knelt on the ground at the tea table, wrenching open the lattice doors below it, and sighed with relief. There. A modest collection of bottles in varying shapes and sizes sat within. I clutched the neck of the tall, clear one and rushed it back to Rue.
He opened the cork with his teeth and splashed it over the gash, stifling an agonized groan into his fist. I gripped his upper arm, my own knuckles growing white with concern.
“Dune rushes,” I announced, twisting my head back and forth to scan the room. “There are dune rushes somewhere…I smelled them. I can make a poultice. Like the one you used for me.”
“Good. Yes. You smelled them? Can you find them?”
“I think so. They smell like you.”
He lifted his head from the pillow, staring questioningly at me like he’d only just noticed me for the first time.
“Never mind that,” I said, hastily darting away. The dune rushes called my attention immediately, spilling over the long rectangular baskets affixed to the balcony. I plucked a handful of the pale green leaves drenched in moonlight from the basket, waving awkwardly to the guard when he looked up to assess the source of the rustling above.
“Just wanted some tea. Collecting leaves. Goodnight!” I slipped quickly back through the arches, leaning against the wall for a moment to collect my breath before running back to Rue.
The leaves bruised easily in my palm, creating the same sticky salve that Rue had used to numb and heal my injuries in the desert.
“It needs stitches first,” Rue said in a hoarse voice, withdrawing the kit from his cloak. I frowned as he struggled to thread the black cording through the needle’s eye.
“Let me,” I said, wiping the salve into an unused teacup. Fishing the thread from his grasp despite the nausea bubbling in my stomach, I leaned forward to inspect the gash. Healing was not an affinity of mine, but it was one I’d had to practice after several close calls with Prisha’s monsters.
Biting my lip, I hesitantly pushed the needle through his skin, snapping my eyes shut when he flinched.
“It’s easier if you keep your eyes open,” Rue gasped, still trying to set me at ease despite the grimace of pain distorting his features. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and sweat dampened his hair against his blanched skin.
I swallowed and forced myself to be brave. For him. Focusing only on the gash, I mentally detached from the task at hand and set to work.
“See, you can mend,” Rue said, disrupting my concentration as I neared the end of the wound.
“Yes,” I agreed quietly, looking down and focusing perhaps a bit too intensely on the effort of knotting the final stitch. “When it’s something that matters, I always find a way.” My cheeks flushed with warmth. “But stitching skies is different than mending wounds.”
“Stitching skies and saving your people is also important to you,” he countered. “You’ll find a way.”
I smiled faintly. Sadly.
“You’re not alone. You don’t always have to be alone.”
I rolled my eyes. “Only because we’re stuck together.”
“I never complained about it.”
Somehow, my hand had wandered to his hair, brushing the dampened curls from his forehead to feel for a fever, then meandering through the tousled locks with a gentle, almost wistful touch. When I caught myself studying his lips, wondering what they might feel like against mine, I stiffened my spine and pulled my hand away. But Rue’s hand found mine.
“Thank you,” he said with an affectionate squeeze.
I flashed a halfhearted smile that disappeared just as quickly, but I didn’t pull away. I held on, gripping his hand while everything else crashed down inside of me, shattering somewhere at the bottom, cutting me with a thousand broken shards of dread. “I—I can’t do it.”
Marry Rali. Stitch the skies. Do what everyone expects of me.
…fall for you.
I worried my teeth against my bottom lip. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stitch the skies. There’s…something wrong. With me.”
Rue’s thumb swept against mine. “Perhaps it is merely the circumstances that are wrong.” He paused thoughtfully. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“Nothing.” I sighed. “It’s just…every time I try to access my power, it feels like Prisha is there, waiting. She knows it…she can feel it. It’s like a trap.” My eyes darted to Rue uncertainly, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. His brows furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt me. “And when I tried to reach for Halah’s magic earlier, the threads avoided my grasp. And ever since I ripped open the stitches, Prisha’s had her eyes on me. She’s waiting for me to lose control. She wants me to destroy and to…kill.”
“Kill who? Me?”
“Everyone. And it scares me. Her voice—it’s in my head. Like…it’s part of me. Like it wants me to forget who I am. Perhaps I am going crazy?”
“That’s why you cannot stitch the skies?”
I pulled my hand away and buried my face in my palms. “I told you I am broken. Venom and hell. What will the Daughters say? The people? They need me, Rue, but I don’t think I can be enough for them. And Rali? What will he think?”
Rue brushed a strand of hair from my forehead, tucking it back behind my ear. “If Rali only sees you as broken, he is missing the best parts of you. You are enough…more than enough. You are everything.”
“I don’t want to marry him,” I confessed. As soon as I’d said it, I wished I hadn’t. It was a truth I wasn’t allowed to voice. Horribly unfair. And one that sought another truth I wasn’t allowed to hear or want…an objection I should have never expected of him.
“Then don’t.” Every muscle in my body stilled, waiting for him to say more. But he relaxed, his head sinking deeply into the feathered pillow behind him.
I was being foolishly unfair. The Daughters required me to marry Rali. They expected me to fulfill my duties, and I loved them enough to try. Didn’t Rue understand that? It wasn’t as simple as refusing. To be a Daughter of Halah meant a life of responsibility. Honor. Fighting for the protection of the people and perpetuating the goddess’s lineage to protect those of future generations. Never had I been promised a life of my own choosing. Nor did I know what I would choose if I could.
Not this.
I buried the selfish thought and busied myself by scooping the salve from the rim of the teacup onto my fingers. “I don’t have a choice,” I decided, applying the salve to Rue’s wound.
“You do.” He winced, then his expression eased as the numbing effects of the salve took effect. “There’s always a choice. You might have forgotten the fiery temper of the woman who told me she’s accustomed to defying expectations, but I haven’t. I never will. I know your strength. It inspires mine.”
My heart fell with a twisting sense of disagreement, unable to reconcile his praise with my sense of failure. “No matter what choices I make, someone will be disappointed.”
“Then choose to not disappoint yourself.”
“It’s not that simple, Rue.”
He laughed, but there was a sadness to it. “That’s what I did. When I decided I couldn’t do what she asked of me anymore. When I knew I could never return to be her monster, I chose not to disappoint myself. I chose to be yours.”
My heart pattered, skipping a beat altogether. “You’re not a monster, Rue. You never were.” And in that moment, I meant it. He was not my enemy. Not from the moment the bond between us tethered our hearts together.
I met his gaze tentatively, the assured intensity of the starscape within watching me, daring me to defy my circumstances and forge my own path. To be brave like him. But what do you want, Rue? I desperately needed the answer—I felt every decision of mine hinge upon it—but I was too cowardly to ask. “I just…I can’t do it. The Daughters expect me to replace the Eldress and marry Rali. Rali expects me to love him and honor him when he apparently will not do the same for me. He expects me to be a wife and bear him Daughters, but I’ve begun to doubt his intentions of loving me. The people expect protection I cannot give them, even if they have not yet recognized me as the new Stitcher. Even if I want to protect them.” I took a deep breath, lifting my chin to the ceiling to hold back the tears that welled at my bottom lashes. “Even if I want to protect you.”
