Bound by Blood and Sand (27 page)

It took them longer to reach Aredann than it had to reach the Well, since they were no longer driven by the threat of sunsickness or starvation. They didn't talk much, just kept moving, falling into step together smoothly.

She felt Aredann the evening before they reached it. Even without other-vision, she could sense life, brighter than the scattered blooms across the desert, and when she really looked, she could see so much more. All of the fields they'd worried about were growing, vital, and plentiful. The reservoir was brimming, and the stream that led directly to the estate house was running high. Yet the town itself seemed empty of people. There were plenty in the fields, but only a few in the estate house and nearly none in the town itself.

When she and Elan arrived at the town's outskirts, the buildings were all dark and no one peered out through the windows. The road was muddy but not trampled, and no one came out to greet them or curse them. Not until they reached the house itself.

The gate was open, and the yard behind it was wild with dark green grass. A lawn at last. Paths had been beaten across it closer to the house, and as Jae and Elan approached, Lady Shirrad ran out, Gali at her heels.

“Jae!” Shirrad threw herself forward, embracing Jae like a long-lost sister. Jae jerked away, then went still for punishment, a habitual gesture. Shirrad didn't notice, but Elan must have, because he somehow pulled Shirrad toward him, let her hug him instead. “Blood and bones, you're
alive.
I knew you would be. When it started raining, I
knew
you were alive out there.”

“I don't see Tal,” Gali said.

Jae stared at her. She'd spoken—in front of Shirrad, a crime under the Curse. She didn't wince as if she was being punished; she just waited, staring right back at Jae.

Who opened her mouth and said aloud what she told herself a thousand times a day: “Tal is dead.”

Shirrad gasped, and Gali's face fell, as if she was going to crumple. Jae wanted to reach for Gali, to comfort her somehow, but how could she? Tal was dead, and nothing would make that easier to face.

“You should come inside,” Shirrad finally said, all the enthusiasm gone from her voice. “I think we have a lot to discuss.”

Jae let them lead her inside. They went straight to the kitchen, where a few of the Closest were sitting around a stewing pot. They all stared at Jae and Elan, but Shirrad didn't shoo them away or order them to serve anything in the dining hall. She just grabbed and filled a bowl, passed it to Jae, and then gave another to Elan, before getting one for herself. Gali did the same, and they sat down at the kitchen table.

“Where is everyone?” Elan asked Shirrad between bites.

“Gone,” Shirrad said. “His Highest”—her voice dripped with disdain—“fled Aredann. He said it was because the second quake meant Aredann was falling down more quickly than he'd anticipated. It wasn't safe to stay and do things in an orderly fashion. Everyone left immediately—except the Closest and me, my punishment for defying him. Disavowed, and left here to die with Aredann.”

But Aredann wasn't dying, and Jae's threat must have scared Elthis into leaving the Closest alive. That meant that Tal's sacrifice
had
saved them all from the drought—and even saved Shirrad, who'd helped get Tal out of Aredann, despite the Curse. Though if he'd stayed, maybe he would be here now, abandoned and alive like the rest of them.

Or maybe they'd all be dead, because without a sacrifice, it wouldn't have rained. The Closest would have died of thirst, even after Elthis had left them alive.

Jae ate a spoonful of stew so she wouldn't have to speak.

“Everything is different now,” Gali said. “With only us here…” She cast a look at Shirrad, then back at Jae. “We're all the same now. We work together. Shirrad can't give us any orders, so we're free to speak. It's almost as if we aren't cursed at all.”

Just like Tal in the desert. With no one around giving orders, what difference did it make if the Closest were cursed to obey? If Gali was sitting and eating with Shirrad, elbow to elbow, then it was her choice.
Both
of their choices.

“It's better this way,” Shirrad said. “Now that the reservoir is back, we can stay here forever. There's plenty for everyone, and we don't need to worry about the Danardaes or anyone else. We're safe.”

“As safe as we can be,” Gali said.

Shirrad nodded. “And now you're with us, home. You saved our lives, and this…this is your home as much as it is mine, with everything you've done for us.”

“I can't stay,” Jae said at last, pushing the bowl away from her. She glanced at Elan, who nodded a little bit.

“Why not? Where will you go?” Shirrad asked.

“To break the Curse,” Jae said. She looked at Gali, met her gaze for the first time since she'd come inside. “This isn't freedom. It's just…being left alone. You deserve the real thing. And I promised Tal I would make that happen.”

“And you really think you can,” Gali breathed.

Jae nodded. The knife was out there somewhere, binding the Curse. They just had to find it.

“I'd love to know if we can help,” Shirrad said, twisting her words to avoid a question, just like a Closest would.

Now it was Jae's turn to stare, surprised. Everything really
was
different. Elan had changed so much, Tal was gone, and Shirrad…Shirrad was eating with the Closest, speaking like them, and willing to help them. Maybe Tal's sacrifice had given the world that, too.

“No,” Jae said. “I have to do it alone—”

“
Not
alone,” Elan said.

She looked at him. She'd need his help to find the knife, so he was right. “Not alone. But we need to leave—”

“Soon,” he said, interrupting again. “In a day or two, after we've had a chance to rest.”

She frowned, wanting to get started as soon as possible. His expression didn't waver under her sharp look, and he was probably right. He was the one who'd made her stop and rest in the desert, who'd forced her to eat and drink when she'd been too haunted to care. So she nodded, letting him make this decision, too.

“Of course,” Shirrad said. “You can stay as long as you like. Here, you eat. I'll go draw you both baths—we have plenty of water for it now. There's so much water. You'll feel better when you're clean.”

Elan smiled and thanked her, and Jae picked at her food. Then she followed Gali to Lady Shirrad's bathing chamber, washed the mud and sand off. By the time she'd finished, Elan had trimmed his beard and hair. He looked more like when he'd first come to Aredann, now that he was better groomed, but with the beard he looked older, and he was leaner, sharper, not so careless. When he saw Jae looking at him, he smiled, and it looked more genuine than it ever had in those first few days.

Shirrad offered them a set of rooms that the Avowed had once used, and Jae accepted, because she couldn't stand the thought of her mat in the Closest's quarters without Tal on the next mat over. She dried and dressed but didn't head straight up to sleep.

Instead she wandered down a long, dusty hall and into the garden. Elan followed her a minute later, looking around.

The cactus was in bloom now, and for the first time Jae could remember, lush grass blanketed the whole yard, even where it shouldn't have, growing up between the orange rocks of the path. Bright flowers bloomed around the fountain, and the bushes were deep green and overgrown.

“I like the garden like this,” Elan said. “It reminds me of you.”

“I didn't do this,” Jae said. “I never got the grass to grow.”

“Yes, you did,” he said. “Look at it, all of this. It's wild, and beautiful, and you're the only one who
could
do this.”

She frowned, but maybe he was right. This was her garden, not Shirrad's; it wasn't beautifully trimmed, laid out carefully, well kept so it could compete with what they had in the central cities. Instead it was wild, growing how it wanted to, lush and alive. Hers.

There was only one thing wrong: the fountain. It was still dormant, though that was less obvious now that the plants were growing around it. There was water in the trough, though, deposited there by rain. A good start.

She walked over to it, grass tickling her bare, callused feet, and laid her hands inside, one matching up with where she felt the palm print, though she couldn't see it under the water.

“Maybe…,” she murmured, and shut her eyes, used other-vision to examine the fountain. There was plenty of water around the estate now, and no reason it shouldn't have flowed in, but—there it was. An old clog, ancient mud that was more like rock now. All Jae needed was a moment's concentration. She reached out toward the clog, pushed, broke it down until water swept the remnants away and flowed freely.

A minute later, water burbled out of the top of the fountain, then cascaded down. Cool to the touch, beautiful, surrounded by flowers. She cupped her palms under it and drank.

The fountain had been Janna's gift. The water was Tal's. Jae looked back at Elan, caught his eye, and he nodded his approval. They'd been given all this, and with it, a chance.

With Elan's help, Jae was going to break the Curse. That would be
their
gift.

She held out her hand, and Elan took it, held it gently, and led her back inside, the fountain still flowing behind them.

The thing about this being my first book is that I'd kind of like to thank everyone I've ever met, but that's probably not practical. So here is an only slightly shortened list of people who deserve enormous thanks.

My fantastic editor, Kate Sullivan, who understood everything I wanted to do with this story and helped me figure out how to get there; and my incredible agent, Hannah Bowman, whose unshakable belief in this book still has me a little bit awed. Thanks also to the full teams at both Delacorte Press and Liza Dawson Associates.

My writing group: Jess, Jen, and Maddy, thank you for all the frozen nights sitting in Panera convincing me that I needed more character motivation and fewer barrels. My other first readers: Margot, Nicole, and Olivia, and Karen, Erin, and Carolyn, who read various in-progress versions.

Plus thanks, of course, to the friends and family who have encouraged and inspired me throughout my life, but especially Rachel (thanks for the Stormy Stories, among many other things), Dad (thanks for promising to always buy me books when I asked, which I know you've since come to regret), and Mom (I miss you every day, but I know how proud and happy you'd be right now).

Becky Allen grew up in a tiny town outside of Ithaca, New York, and graduated from Brandeis University with a major in American studies and a minor in journalism. For the last eight years, she has held various positions at
TheBody.com
, an online HIV resource, and she is currently the website director. Becky loves New York, brunch, and feminism. She cannot function without coffee. Becky lives in New York City with her sister, Rachel, and their cat, Lily. It was a conversation with her sister about irrigation that inspired Becky to wonder about a fantasy world where irrigation was fueled by magic, and what that would mean. Their discussion became
Bound by Blood and Sand
.