“You have gone mad.” Heimee gritted his teeth, anger flaring in his swollen eyes. “Why are you so eager to waste your life? I can forgive this. You didn’t know better, and you’re just a foolish kid with a kind heart. You wanted to help. I get that. But after what we witnessed here, you still want to go with him?”

“I have to,” I signed, unable to meet his eyes. “The mountain killed my parents.”

Heimee threw his arms in the air and winced from the pain it caused him. “What is this obsession with the mountain?”

“The day you found me,” I pressed, “that’s where I was going.”

“And how did that pan out for you? Did you have a pleasant time at the summit? Did you enjoy the view? No, you almost froze to death. And I saved you. I took you in. Is this how you repay me?”

My head sank lower. How could I make him see? “I’m older now, Heimee. I’m smarter, and after all the whisky we made, I’m also stronger.”

“Smarter, you say?” Heimee scoffed and glanced at his scorched distillery. Half of the malting building had completely collapsed and the distillery lay in ruins. He took a deep breath and spoke gently. “Listen, Ludik. We can still get out of this. I’ll tell the army we have nothing to do with this dung bucket,” a thick finger jabbed in Mathew’s direction. “We have no reason to run nor hide. We are as much victims as those poor kids outside. But if you go with him, they will hunt you down. You’ll be fighting battles you can’t win. I know you’re strong, but you’re still just a kid. And deaf.”

That hit me like a bag of bricks. “Thanks for reminding me. It’s easy to forget sometimes,” I spat.

“No wonder you don’t listen. To the Ordeal with you. To the Ordeal with all of you!” Heimee fumed, got up, and walked away heavily, dragging one leg behind.

Those words hurt me more than I could bear. But I would regret it forever if I didn’t go with Mathew. How could I refuse it? “Why can’t you understand?” I said, watching him go.

Heimee kept walking.

“We do need to hurry before they come back with reinforcements,” Mathew said. “It’s a long way to Algirin.”

“Algirin?” Brinn asked. “The capital? Shouldn’t we go north?”

“I need to get a book from the Aviz library. We’re gonna need it to fight the mountain.”

“I’m going after Heimee,” I said. “I can’t leave him like this.” I chased him through the soot and embers of the distillery. The whole place was eerily unrecognizable. And if not for the inclination, I wouldn’t have noticed he stood on the cellar’s door clearing the debris.

The doors to the cellar were scorched but otherwise intact. Heimee pushed a smoldering log out of the way and used is fingertips to pry the door open. He managed to crack one open enough and squeezed through and I followed. Inside, the cellar seemed oblivious to the tragedy that befell the surface, as if it had never happened. Even the odors of wet stone, old wood, and dried alcohol remained unchanged.

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Heimee heaved a sigh of relief. I can’t hear sighs, of course, but his shoulders sagged, his head drooped back, and his hands, previously jammed into fists, relaxed.

“Heimee, I—”

He held a hand up to silence me and sat on an old wooden bench that had probably stood there since his grandfather bought the land decades before. Heimee was obviously in a great deal of pain but didn’t complain about it other than the occasional wince. “Have I told you I ran away from home when I was just a boy?” he said.

I sat on the floor in front of him, like a little child eager for a bedtime story.

“I wanted to see the world, but my old man wanted me to work. I felt wronged and betrayed by my own flesh and blood. I asked him if I could leave for a month or so and see the whole of Aviz. Maybe a little of Erosomita, too. Before I even finished, he started berating me, saying I hadn’t a clue about how expensive traveling was; that I was a fool to think I could live off of nature and people’s goodwill; that my duty was to him and my family; that if I abandoned them, it was the same as proving that I bore them no love. He made me so mad, so angry.” Heimee smiled through broken lips with the memory, hands continuing the story. “I seethed in my anger in the very room you sleep today. That night, I climbed out the window, slid on the frigate, and was off into the world. I was gone for months. When I returned, I expected my old man to be livid. But he didn’t say a word. My mother hugged me to an inch of my life and sobbed relentlessly. She’d had to live for that long, not knowing if her child was safe or sound. It’s an unbearable feeling for a parent. I know that now better than anyone. But my old man stood before me, searching for something in my eyes, commanding my attention for what seemed like an eternity. When I finally opened my mouth to apologize, he cut me off. ‘Do not apologize for that of which you meant,’ he said. ‘Your choices are who you are, and a man should not apologize for who he is.’ Those words haunted me for years. Since then, I have learned they aren’t true. They hold a certain pride, a certain grit. They nurture boldness in one’s actions. But I’ve come to realize that I had acted cowardly. I should’ve told them I was leaving, even if it was against their will. One must first be regretful to learn from one’s mistakes. It is quite possible to have unintentional intent. In fact, I’d say those are the most common.”

“Heimee,” I said once it was clear that the story was over. “I need to face Aureberg, or I’ll be the coward in my story.”

His eyes sank. “You’re braver than I was. Make sure you come back.” Then he drew a shuddering breath and said, “In this house, you are no orphan.”

I sprang like a locust and hugged Heimee and felt his thick arms return the hug. His clothes smelled of dirt and smoke and blood. “Come with us,” I said.

Heimee snorted. Never a snort held such relief on a heavy heart. “I’m too old for a young man’s folly. No. Have your stupid adventure. I’ll stay right here.” He looked around the cellar to the vastness of barrels stacked on top of one another. Rows and rows of them. “Once people hear about what happened here…I don’t believe they’ll risk losing their only source of Heims. Bastard help us all; it might start a civil war if I stopped producing completely.” He patted my shoulders. “Take a couple of the 39s with you. You know the ones. It’s alright. I have a couple more hidden away in case I ever got robbed. They are worth more than gold. Especially handy for buying friends or favors.”

I nodded and didn’t try to protest, though I didn’t like the idea of walking around with such prized possessions. “I’ll come back.”

He gave me a weak forlorn smile. “I’m sure you will. Just be careful and watch out for that lunatic. He’s hiding something; it’s as clear as freshly distilled spirit.”

“Don’t worry, Heimee. I have Brinn with me.”