Chapter 47 The Road Home

Chapter 47 The Road Home

The walk down the pass was harder than the climb up.

Kaelen's head throbbed where it had struck the rock, and his legs felt heavy, as if the warmth in his chest had been holding him together and now that it was fading, he was coming apart. Sera walked beside him, close enough to catch him if he fell. Mira led the way, her bow strung, her eyes scanning the path ahead. Dorn brought up the rear, his good hand on his sword, his bandaged arm hanging limp at his side.

Halden walked apart from them, his grey eyes fixed on the ground, his face unreadable.

They passed the bodies of the hunters on the way down. The ones Veyra had killed with the book. They lay where they had fallen, their faces frozen, their too-long fingers curled into claws. The snow had begun to cover them, dusting their grey cloaks with white.

"Should we bury them?" Mira asked. Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

Kaelen looked at the bodies. He had known some of them—not well, but enough. They had sat in the lower levels of the Tower, trying to heal, trying to become human again. Veyra had promised them a second chance. Then she had used them and thrown them away.

"We don't have time," he said. "The ground is frozen. The snow is coming. We need to get off this mountain before dark."

Mira nodded. She did not argue. But she paused at each body and closed their eyes before moving on.

\-

They reached the base of the pass as the sun began to set.

The sky was clear for the first time in days, the clouds blown away by the wind. The stars came out one by one, bright and cold, and the mountains were dark against the deep blue of the sky.

Dorn found a sheltered spot among the rocks, a shallow cave where they could build a fire and rest. Mira gathered wood from the twisted trees at the edge of the tree line. Sera sat with Kaelen, her shoulder against his, her eyes on the pass above them.

"She's still up there," Sera said. "Veyra. With the book."

"She's not coming down tonight. She needs time. Time to think. Time to decide what she wants to become."

"Do you think she'll really go back to the Tower? Try to rebuild?"

Kaelen thought about it. About the look in Veyra's eyes when he had given her the book. The confusion. The fear. The faintest glimmer of something that might have been hope.

"I don't know," he said. "She's been running for so long. The hunger has been driving her for so long. She doesn't know who she is without it."

"None of us do," Sera said. "Not really. We're all just trying to figure it out as we go."

Kaelen looked at her. Her face was tired, her eyes shadowed, but she was still there. Still beside him. Still fighting.

"I'm glad you came to Hearthglen," he said.

Sera raised an eyebrow. "That's random."

"I've been thinking about it. About what would have happened if you hadn't shown up. If you hadn't brought the report. If you hadn't made me stop hiding."

"You would still be there. Filing reports no one read. Watching a god die."

"I know." He took her hand. "So I'm glad you came."

Sera was quiet for a moment. Then she squeezed his hand.

"I'm glad I came too."

\-

Mira built the fire, and they sat around it, eating the last of their food. Dorn had his eyes closed, his head against the rock wall, but Kaelen knew he was not sleeping. The old soldier was listening. Watching. Waiting.

Halden sat apart from the others, his hands wrapped around a cup of water that had long since gone cold. He had not spoken since they left the pass. Kaelen had not asked him to. Some silences did not need to be broken.

"Mira," Kaelen said. "The tracks you saw. The ones following us. Was it Halden?"

Mira nodded. "He was watching from the trees. Waiting to see if we would lead him to Veyra."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Mira shrugged. "He wasn't trying to hurt us. He was just watching. I thought he might be useful."

Kaelen looked at Halden. The old hunter met his eyes.

"I wasn't sure you would let me come," Halden said. "After everything I did. After everything I was."

"And now?"

"Now I'm here. And I'm still not sure why." He looked at the fire. "Maybe I'm looking for the same thing Veyra was looking for. A chance to be something other than what I was."

Kaelen thought about Orin. About the god who had chosen to die. About the book and the stone and the names that still pressed against his mind.

"We're all looking for that," he said. "The only difference is whether we're willing to do the work."

Halden was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded.

"I'll do the work," he said. "If you'll let me."

Kaelen looked at Sera. She shrugged.

"It's not up to me," she said. "He's your stray."

Kaelen almost smiled.

"Then stay," he said to Halden. "Help us rebuild. Help us watch for the ones who are still hungry. Help us make sure the Cabal never rises again."

Halden bowed his head. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. The work is hard. And the days are long."

"I know. I've been doing hard work for a long time. The difference is, now I might actually be doing something that matters."

\-

They slept in shifts through the night.

Kaelen took the first watch, sitting at the entrance of the cave, looking out at the dark mountains. The warmth in his chest was faint now, barely there, but he could still feel it. Like an ember buried in ash, waiting to be stirred.

He thought about the farm. About the wheat that was pushing through the soil. About the vegetables they had planted before the frost killed them. About the work waiting for him when he got home.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to sleep in his own bed, eat at his own table, wake up to the sound of birds instead of the sound of the wind howling through the pass.

But home was not a place. It was a feeling. A feeling of being safe. Of being known. Of being loved.

He had that now. With Sera. With Mira. With Dorn. Even with Halden, in his own broken way.

He was not alone anymore. He would never be alone again.

\-

The morning came grey and cold.

The clouds had returned overnight, low and heavy, threatening more snow. Kaelen woke the others, and they gathered their things and started down the path toward the lowlands.

The walking was easier here. The ground was flatter, the trees thicker, the wind less biting. Kaelen's head still throbbed, but the warmth in his chest had settled into a steady pulse, no longer fading, no longer burning. Just there. A reminder of what he had been and what he still could be.

Sera walked beside him, her hand in his. Mira walked ahead, her bow strung, her eyes scanning the trees. Dorn walked behind, his good hand on his sword. Halden brought up the rear, silent and watchful.

They walked through the morning and into the afternoon. The clouds began to break, and the sun came through in patches, warm on their faces. The snow melted on the path, and the mud squelched beneath their boots.

It was slow going. But it was going.

\-

They reached the farm at sunset on the third day.

The fields were brown and wet, but the wheat was still there, green and stubborn, pushing through the soil. The farmhouse stood dark and empty, the fire in the hearth long since burned out.

Kaelen stood at the edge of the property and looked at it. The house he had built. The fields he had planted. The life he had started.

"Home," Sera said, coming up beside him.

"Home," he agreed.

She leaned her head against his shoulder.

"The wheat needs watering."

"I know."

"The roof needs patching."

"I know."

"The woodpile is low."

"I know."

She looked at him. "Are you going to do it?"

Kaelen looked at the house. At the fields. At the mountains in the distance, where Veyra was still figuring out what to do with the book.

"Yes," he said. "But not today. Today, I'm going to sleep."

They walked toward the farmhouse together.

Behind them, the sun set over the mountains, painting the sky in shades of gold and amber.

The long winter was over.

Spring was finally here.