Darrakh swaddled Tuya in his love, projecting a vision of them sitting on the sands of their motherland, the place where they dreamt of flying away so many nights. The stars were out, shining down on the great, good water where they dipped their toes. He held her hand, his silver eyes gazing into hers, tears coalescing as his smile set like the sun upon an eternal night.

I am sorry that I hurt you.

I am sorry too, Tuya thought, more to herself, the link transmitting the thought to him. Despite being enveloped in his love, her pain did not feel small. This hurt, like it always did. She was tired of surviving while those she loved died. So tired.

I do love you, Darrakh projected. I wish we could have flown away to the faraway lands and found this place. Today, I even believed it would be. You gave me everything that was good in my life and I wanted to give you something better than this. Tuya sat alone on the Isihlan shore as Darrakh faded, leaving her with nothing but grains of sand where his hand used to be.

Will you miss me, Tuya?

Tuya cradled his body, his head on her lap. She sobbed, tears falling from her face and splashing onto his. Yes. I will miss you. She caressed his hair and his eyes looked up into hers. “I will miss you,” Tuya said. She kissed his forehead. I will always miss you.

Darrakh felt relief, approaching peace as he came closer to death’s final grasp. Go there for me, Tuya. Go to the place where we dreamt of sitting on the sand, hand-in-hand, but do not let this be your end. Find people to love, people who love you. You deserve better than me, better than a man who cowered when he should have fought for you. I hope, no, I know, you will find them. You can go on. You can fly away to the faraway lands and find the place where you belong.

I cannot. I cannot escape Gurg.

Darrakh clutched at her cheek, his arm trembling. “You can. You will. Stay linked.” Darrakh coughed, blood wheezing out of his mouth. We cannot find you when you are linked.

Tuya grasped at the significance of his dying thoughts, as her loss inundated her with broken dreams. No looking up at Covademara in Mirrevar and seeing the infinite flowers upon the branches that went on for forever. No feeling the eternal rains of Dalazuli on the isle of Caleel where the Mahagan Sultana kept her court. No flying on the backs of the dragons of Volqor. No returning to the Hollows with their allies and freeing the wilders and the tamers from the Spire. No sitting upon the sandy shore of Malhaya and looking up at the stars above their motherland. No more Darrakh. Tuya did not feel like she could make dreams come true, did not believe that she could escape this hell, did not know if she should bother to try and go on.

Darrakh seized her hand, willed his dream into her, infused it with a hope that would not die with him. You will fly away, Tuya. I love you.

His silver eyes glazed with death. Darrakh’s mind severed connection to hers as his consciousness seeped out of his body. The wispy vapor spiraled around her, wrapping her in a final embrace, love trying to make her pain smaller, before it ventured into the Hollows.

“I love you too,” Tuya said, leaving one last kiss on his lips. She clutched to him, cried into the nape of his neck, as his blood, blood from her spear, smeared on her naked torso.

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Her world shook, it seemed it could never be stable and certain ever again. She did not want to leave Darrakh, did not want to say goodbye to another person. Everyone was gone. Everyone but one.

Yaha shook her, Paintaker, the one Tuya found in the rain all those years ago in her hand. “Sniff, my little empagong.”

Tuya inhaled, the pain in her body from her blood, from making Darrakh bleed, dimming like stars fading behind clouds. Paintaker, the ancient flower with sky petals and sun center, smelled like the people she loved, the people who she could not let down. Zaya. Sarnai. Masarga. Darrakh. Yaha. Paintaker, a reminder of the memory of those who suffered, of neverborn children, of women abducted from faraway lands, of little boys in the Spire taught to lose their compassion, of girls who were beaten, and starved, and told they were nothing, of one little girl unlike any other and exactly like every other, a girl whose eyes turned silver in the rain and who tried her best to make pain smaller. Tuya could not let her down by giving in now, could not let down those she loved, could not let down those who suffered. Still, it was impossible to let go of Darrakh, to say goodbye to the man she imagined her future with. Tuya was not ready for those dreams to disappear, to leave her like almost everyone she ever loved.

Yaha, beloved, wonderful, stubborn Yaha, gripped Tuya’s shoulder. “There were so many times in the last year that I wanted to lie down and join Olono, to step into the Endless Blue and sink to the bottom. Olono was my future. ‘One more adventure’, I promised him. After that, a hut built on stilts over the water and days spent on white shores instead of on planks. We dreamt of having children of our own. Little Yahas and Olonos running through the jungle and splashing in the sea, with his laugh and my scowl.” Yaha sniffed, her hand never leaving Tuya’s shoulder. “We were supposed to grow old together and live out our days in peace. I thought my life was supposed to end when his did.” Yaha knelt in front of Tuya, her eyes misty. “Tuya, you did not let me die with him, on that horrible beach with that horrible monster. You did not let me end it the way it was always supposed to end.” Yaha brushed Tuya’s hair, just like Zaya used to when Tuya needed a mother. “I am so glad that you did not let go of me. Olono would smile at your laugh and run from your scowl. He would be proud of the life I have lived without him. He would tell me to not give up on you, just as Darrakh would tell you not to give up on yourself. For both of our men, for me, and most of all, for yourself, you must—

“Keep moving,” Tuya agreed, forcing a smile she did not fully feel yet. “And, Yaha, Darrakh gave me a final gift, a powerful truth, our only hope.”

“Oh?”

Tuya brought her mind to Yaha. The old woman let her in, no resistance. The truth transmitted through the link, Yaha’s dread muting, hope rising in its place like a great yellow flower. She offered Tuya her hand.

Even though it felt wrong, even though Tuya moaned as she let his head sink onto the ground of their hollow, she claimed Yaha’s hand and rose.

They did not have long to gather their things. Tuya slipped on her hides, claimed the last of their herbs and bundled them into the pockets she made. Yaha stowed away as much of their great fish bounty as she could and dowsed the flames. Both women hefted spears into their hands. Before they finished, shouts and threats echoed through the dark forest where the trees had holes. The Hollows awakened with the din, with calls to capture the runaway khorota, to kill the tall dark one and preserve the sandy one with little lightmaker eyes.

Tamer consciousnesses passed through the trees, seeking their presence and drifting right past them. Fear stilled in Tuya’s quaking heart. Darrakh spoke the truth. No matter how close the tamer vapors came, and hundreds of them floated within sight, they all went past, as if Tuya and Yaha were invisible. She smiled, chuckled to herself, giddy with hope. We can do this.

Do not celebrate yet, Yaha transmitted. They will have tens of thousands of tamers on the hunt. We must get far from here and find a place to hide. We may need to lurk for days, gathering at night and moving from hiding place to hiding place until we are gone from here. This could take seasons, Tuya, but if we get through tonight, if we can kill, avoid, and lose our pursuers tonight, we can do it.

Tuya breathed, as Zaya taught her, and kept going, as Yaha taught her.