A Call for Brighter Days: Aeriel Trilogy #2
Chapter 32

The door creaked. Shwaan shrunk back, until his wings were trapped between his body and the cold, stone wall of his cell. Pain shot through the appendages, making him momentarily dizzy.

Kaheen approached him, her steps slow and cautious.

“Shh, it’s alright. It’s just me.”

She reached out. Once again, he drew back, this time to protect her from the effects of the sif that enveloped him.

“It’s alright. For now.” Her tone was gentle, as it had been since the day Janak branded him. He didn’t know how long ago that was. The days seemed to blend together inside the castle, blurry and indistinct at the edges. “He won’t call for you again, not tonight. He’s leaving for Ragah early tomorrow morning. If we’re lucky, he’ll stay there for a couple of days at least.”

Shwaan blinked, unsure of what he was hearing, or why she was telling him this. He wondered why Janak even allowed her to visit him like this. Perhaps to appease the other Aeriels in his gang, who’d been on edge since he’d threatened Kaheen to blackmail him. Nobody liked feeling disposable, he supposed. Not even rudderless Exiles who’d sold themselves to the mafia in exchange for drugs and decadence (and a chance to forget the past).

And Janak Nath couldn’t afford any more enemies than he already had.

She reached out once again, combing tender, if unsteady fingers through the tattered and disheveled feathers of his wing.

As she reached the protruding edge of the long, narrow, sif-plated stake that had been driven through both his wings, she winced, her fingers trembling slightly. Whether it was due to her proximity to the sif or some feeling of misplaced sympathy, he didn’t know. Still, her cool fingers felt nice against his torn and inflamed skin, so he swallowed the protest that rose to his lips.

“I’d pull it out if I could–” She bit her lip, cutting herself off. “It’s just – I can’t touch it without–”

He shook his head. “You don’t need to. You’d just pass out if you tried, anyway. But more importantly, the guards would notice if my wings were suddenly free. And then, we’d both be dead.”

She groomed his ragged feathers, her fingers light and tender. “Why did you let them do this to you, Shwaan? You could’ve killed him, escaped–”

“I couldn’t have. I was too weak–”

“Then you’d have died fighting. Death would’ve been preferable to this, would it not?”

After a few seconds of strained silence, he sighed. “Just my own?” he shrugged. “Perhaps. But I couldn’t make that decision for the both of us.”

“I told you this before, I don’t need your pity. Nor do I want it.”

He laughed, which soon sent him into dry heaves. Kaheen pushed his hair back from his face. “You think I’m in a position to pity anyone right now?” He glanced down at himself, then looked up at her. “An ally of my captors, at that? I think not.”

“Was that the only reason?”

“No. There was another. Though I wouldn’t hold it against you if you refused to believe me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yes?”

“I failed you once, because I was too much of a coward to fight for you. I didn’t want to fail you again. I–” He shook his head. “You have every right to hate me. But I never stopped thinking of you as my friend, as the little sister I’d always wished for. And now that I know you’re alive, unharmed…home wouldn’t be worth returning to without you, Kaheen.”

She wrapped her wings around herself and slid closer to him. “All these years I spent hating you. Thinking you were responsible for everything that happened to me. For everything Reivaa did, and for all the things I couldn’t do.” The shadows cast by the high stone walls moved oddly across her face, unable to disguise the torment in her eyes. “But it had nothing to do with you. It was all me, all along.

“I thought you betrayed me, abandoned me. But they all did, didn’t they? My mother. My best –no, only – friend­.” Her gaze flicked over to him, then away. “My people. Hell, even Janak, the one human I ever trusted after Maya. They can’t all be wrong, can they? There must be something wrong with me, something…broken inside of me, if all the people I ever loved couldn’t get away from me fast enough. And I’m sorry, Shwaan.” Her voice broke. “I’m sorry you had to suffer, had to endure so much pain, because I couldn’t figure that out soon enough.”

He stared at her, feeling numb and drained. He’d wanted her to understand why he’d done what he had; had wanted her to forgive him. But perhaps disproportionate condemnation was preferable to unearned forgiveness.

“I’d felt weak, powerless in a war being fought between forces far greater than myself.” He forced himself to say the words, his throat parched and aching. “Once we were in Vaan, I wanted to go back for you, but – this is no excuse, but I want you to know the truth. It’s the least you deserve.

“Safaa told me there’d be endless bloodshed, if we tried to take you away from Reivaa. She’d leave no stone unturned to keep you with her. And you mightn’t even want to leave your mother behind and come with us.” He held up a shackled hand as she began speaking. “I know. I didn’t believe it, either. Not really. But I was grasping at straws, anything to assuage my own guilt. I believed her because I had to, because I would’ve destroyed myself and everything around me, if I hadn’t. And after all the misery my mother had caused, I didn’t want to be responsible for more death and destruction.

“Safaa said that shutting out the Exiles was the only option. It’d keep everyone safe, minimize casualties on all sides. And she was right. She always is, about these things.

“But although I couldn’t have taken you to Vaan and disobeyed her, I could have stayed back on earth with you. And cowardice was the only reason I didn’t. I spent the last few centuries making excuses for myself. Telling myself I’d been young and helpless, hadn’t wanted to cause more suffering. But that’s exactly what I did, isn’t it? Caused you unimaginable suffering.

“We’re responsible for the consequences of our inaction, as much as for those of our actions. It took me a long time to realize that, Kaheen. Longer to accept it. But the truth is, I left you behind, all alone in a warzone. And if this is the price I have to pay for it,” he glanced down at his branded shoulder, the skin scorched and inflamed. “You were right. It’s far less than I deserve.”

“I wasn’t, really.” Her voice was soft, unsteady. “I hated you with everything I had. Because it was all I had, you know? The only thing left that was truly mine. My mother had taken everything else. And I–I needed something, even if it was something ugly and broken. I needed something to hold on to who – to what ­­– I’d been, before she turned me into her weapon. But I never wanted–” she turned to look at his bound and battered body, her eyes haunted. “You have to believe me, Shwaan. I never wanted this.”

“What do you want, then? Because what I want is for us to go back home. And if you want the same thing, I’ll do everything in my power to make that happen. And if not, then I’ll follow you wherever you want to go.”

She stared at him disbelievingly.

He reached out to twine his fingers with hers, careful not to let his sif-lined shackles touch her skin. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to decide on anything right now. We have all the time in the world. Janak seems too entertained by his own psychotic ingenuity to kill me anytime soon. And no matter what happens, I won’t leave you behind again. I promise you that.”