He stared at me for the longest time, saying nothing, then finally answered, “I wish you well too, Lia.”
We parted, he going his way and I going mine, both of us committed to help the kingdoms we loved build a future. There were many ways a life could be sacrificed, and it wasn’t always through dying.
I looked back over my shoulder, watching him ride away, and then I thought about Gwyneth’s long-ago remark. Love … It’s a nice little trick if you can find it.
We had found it.
But now I knew finding love and holding on to it were not the same thing.
* * *
I rode back to the multitudes of Vendans who waited for my signal, their faces filled with hope, ready to begin the future I had promised them, and I waved our caravan forward, in the direction of home.
With the dawn comes a better glimpse of our shelter.
It is safe to build a fire now.
The scavengers won’t spot us.
We are cold and hungry, and Pata has killed a rabbit.
We gather what little fuel we see—a broken chair and a few books. The pages are precious dry tinder that will help the wood catch.
The others walk around in wonderment, looking at the walls that enclose us.
I watch the pages of the books curl, hear the sizzle of the rabbit and the rumble of our stomachs.
The child brings me a colorful sphere, most of it blue.
What is this? she asks, and spins it, entranced with its beauty.
I am uncertain myself what to call it, but the words written across it are familiar. I search my memories, my own grandmother telling me how the world used to be.
It is a map of our world.
Our world is round?
It was.
Now it is flat and small and brown. But the child already knows that.
From the stars, Morrighan. If you fly among the stars, you will see the world far differently.
What will I see?
She is hungry, not just for food, but for understanding, and I have little to give her.
Come, child, sit in my lap as the rabbit cooks, and I will tell you what you can see from the stars.
Once upon a time, long long ago, there were not just the Remnant and the scavengers. There were nations of every kind, hundreds of kingdoms that circled this world.
Hundreds?
She smiles, believing it to be another of my tales. Maybe it is. The lines of truth and sustenance blurred long ago.
What happened to them, Ama? Where are they now?
They are us, child. We are what’s left.