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48 - Not Your Fault

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Theo

Wheezing, the breath in my throat.

Crashing, my body through the jungle.

Pounding, feet on the ground, heart in my chest, the booms of the javelin-charges. But the explosions were more distant now. Had been fading with each step. Finally, they stopped altogether.

I ran on anyway. My military conditioning had prepared me for this, physically, if not mentally. What could prepare a person for this mentally?

Maritza was just in front, leading us onward. Away from the river. For the moment, that was enough.

I ducked to the side as a palm frond snapped back in Maritza’s wake, near slapping me across the face. I jumped next, trying to clear a puddle, but came down short, splashing mud and warm, stagnant water all over me.

More splashes a few steps later told me Demetrias, Suni, and Senesio were just behind. But they were the only ones. I’d seen what had happened in the river. Had seen the javelin-charge plummet down into the canoe. The explosion...

Gabar, gone.

Elpida, gone.

Only Suni had made it out, and even that had been a close thing.

Ancestors above, but I was tired of running. Was tired of death. Was tired of wondering if every moment was going to be my last.

I’d entered this accursed place on one of the empire’s finest skyships and with one of its bravest crews. Now that ship was a pile of splinters in some ancestors-cursed field, and what was left of the crew was running for our lives. Again.

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After this—assuming there was anything after this—I was done. No more soldiering. No more danger. Just a quiet life back home with my parents and the family business. That thought kept me running when my legs near gave out. Kept me moving forward, if not at much more than a stumble.

“Stop!” Demetrias’ voice from behind. Urgent, panicked. “Maritza, stop!”

The helmswoman slowed to a jog, glancing over her shoulder, then finally slowed. Hesitant, at first, her chest heaving and her eyes wild.

“We’re only... going to get... more lost,” Demetrias managed through gasping breaths. He was bent over double, hands on her knees.

Behind him, Suni burst from the brush, followed closely by Senesio. He stopped, then spun, watching the path we’d taken with one hand on the sword at his hip. But no one else was following. Not the Bospurians, and certainly not the rest of our group. Particularly because there no longer was a rest of our group.

“They’re dead. They’re all dead,” I said, slumping forward, bending under the exhaustion, then despair of it all. My knees gave out and I went down on all fours. Punched the ground. “Damn!” I punched it again. “Damn! Damn!”

Maritza hurried over, breathing heavily herself.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, dropping beside me, then grabbing my arm. Likely stopped me from breaking my hand. “There’s nothing you could have done.”

I was shaking from deep down in my core, my whole body reverberating with it. Sweat boiled off of me, near steaming in the humidity beneath the canopy.

“The captain. Aristos. Dead.”

“Shhh. Shhh. It’s alright.”

“Leda. Gabar. Elpida. Dead.” I shuddered.

Maritza pulled me close.

“Sergeant Kyriakos.” I swallowed hard, shaking even worse. “Dead.”

Maritza turned me around, making me face her. “Look at me,” she said fiercely. “Their deaths are not your fault. Don’t you dare put that on yourself, you hear me?” She clenched her grip tighter, squeezing my shoulders. “Do you hear me?”

I nodded, but it was weak. I should have done more to save them.

“If you want to blame someone, blame the Bospurians. Or blame this ancestors-cursed wilderness. But you will not blame yourself.”

I swallowed hard again and nodded. My hands clenched, fingers tearing trenches through the soil. The muscles in my arms locked tight, veins rising out of them. Then, all at once, I let out a long breath. My body relaxed, falling limp for a single moment.

My commanding officers were dead. Everyone who’d been under my command was dead. All that was left were Maritza, Demetrias, Suni, and Senesio. And I was going to see to it that they made it out alive. No one else was going to die under my watch.

That was my vow. To the sergeant’s memory and to everyone else we’d lost. No more. No more would die.

It was settled, then. I sucked down a deep breath and then I was on my feet. My eyes were still puffy and red, but I was through grief. Just anger and determination left now.

“Thank you,” I said, then offered Maritza a hand up.

“If you ever want to talk about it—”

“I don’t.”