Chapter 169

The morning of our departure dawned gray and soft, the sky promising rain that never seemed to fall. The courtyard was chaos. Packs and bundles lay strewn across the packed earth, sacks of provisions slung over shoulders, rolled blankets tied with leather cords, cooking pots clanking against each other, and more water skins than I could count hanging from every available strap. The children buzzed around the piles like excited bees, their voices raised in a constant hum of anticipation.

I stood in the middle of it all, trying to remember if I had packed the dried herbs I had spent all summer preserving. Or the small wooden spoon Aureon had carved. Or my favorite shawl.

"Krys," Ravin called from somewhere near the supplies. "We need to decide. Do we bring the extra furs or leave them?"

"Bring them," I said, then immediately contradicted myself. "No, leave them. We can trade for new ones if we need them. No, wait. Bring them. What if we can’t find any at the coast?"

Ravin appeared at my elbow, his expression patient. "Which is it?"

"I don’t know," I admitted, rubbing my temples. "I feel like I’m forgetting something important."

"You’ve packed everything," he assured me. "Including things we definitely don’t need. Like three different kinds of tea and a collection of rocks the cubs found."

"They’re sentimental rocks," I protested.

"They’re ordinary stones," he countered, but he was smiling.

Lisa found me then, her eyes already red, her hands clutching a basket of fresh bread she had baked before dawn. She pressed it into my hands without a word, then pulled me into an embrace that smelled of flour and lavender and the particular warmth of a mother who had raised more children than she could count.

"You’re leaving," she whispered against my hair. "You only just got back. The baby isn’t even born yet. You could stay. Have the baby here. Then go."

"Lisa," I said gently, pulling back to look at her. "We talked about this. The baby needs the ocean. I need the ocean. We’ll be back."

"A year," she said, her voice cracking. "You’ll be gone a year. Maybe more."

"And you’ll have your own baby to fuss over," I reminded her, touching her still flat stomach. "That will keep you busy."

"I don’t want to be busy," she sniffled. "I want you here, all of you guys here. Where I can see you. Where I can make sure you’re eating properly."

"I’ll be eating fish," I said, trying to make her smile. "Lots and lots of fish. Caelion promises they’re very fresh."

Lisa laughed despite herself, a wet, broken sound. "I don’t even like fish."

"I actually like it," I admitted.

Wren and Layla arrived as the sun cleared the horizon, their own eyes suspiciously bright. Layla took one look at me, one look at Lisa, and immediately started crying.

"Oh no," Wren muttered. "Not again. We said we weren’t going to do this."

"I can’t help it," Layla sobbed, throwing her arms around me. "You’re going to have a baby in the water. That’s terrifying. What if something eats you?"

"Nothing is going to eat me," I said, patting her back.

"Sharks," Layla wailed. "Whales. Giant squid."

"There are no giant squid near the Mer city," Caelion said, passing by with a bundle of nets slung over his shoulder. "I promise."

"See?" I said. "No giant squid."

"But what about medium squid?" Layla asked, pulling back to look at me with tear-streaked cheeks. "Or small but aggressive squid?"

"We’ll keep her away from all potentially dangerous sea creatures," Ravin promised solemnly.

"Thank you," Layla sniffed.

Lyle stood near the supply piles, his arms crossed, watching the scene with the patient expression of a man who had seen his mother cry at departures more times than he could count. When I caught his eye, he walked over and took my hands in his.

"Safe journey," he said simply. "Come back with stories."

"I will," I promised.

"And come back with a healthy baby," he added, his voice dropping. "That’s the important part."

"That’s the plan," I agreed.

He nodded, then surprised me by pulling me into a quick, fierce hug. "Don’t let the fish push you around," he murmured. "You’re still you. Even underwater."

"I won’t," I promised.

We tried to say goodbye properly. That was our first mistake.

Lisa, Layla, and I stood in a circle, holding hands, tears streaming down all our faces.

"I don’t want you to go," Lisa said.

"I don’t want to go," I admitted.

"Then stay," Layla suggested.

"I can’t," I said.

"But what if you did?" Lisa pressed.

"Layla," Victor called from where he stood with the other men. "They’re leaving. You said your goodbyes."

"We’re still saying them," Layla called back, not looking away from me.

"Say them faster," Victor suggested.

"We can’t rush this," Layla told him. "It’s emotional."

"I can see that," Larry said, his voice dry. "You’ve been emotional for twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes isn’t long enough," Layla protested.

"It is when you’re standing in the courtyard holding up the entire group," Larry pointed out.

Raon, walked over and gently took her elbow. "Come, love. They need to go."

"But I don’t want them to," Lisa said, even as she let him lead her away.

"Neither do I," Raon agreed. "But they do."

We managed to get ten steps toward the path before Lisa broke free from Raon’s grip and ran back to me.

"The bread," she said, pressing the basket into my hands again, even though I already held it. "You forgot the bread."

"I have the bread," I said.

"Take more bread," she insisted.

"Lisa," I said gently. "I love you. I’ll be fine. We’ll be back before you know it."

"I don’t want you to go," she whispered.

"I know," I whispered back. "But I have to."

We hugged again, longer this time, until Raon gently peeled her away.

"Second time," he said to Ravin. "That’s two."

"I know," Ravin sighed.

We made it to the path this time. The children had their packs on, the supplies were distributed among the adults, everyone was ready to walk. I put my foot on the trail, ready to lead the way.

"Wait," Layla called out.

I turned. She was running toward me, Larry trailing behind with his eyes rolled so far back I could only see the whites.

"You forgot this," she said, holding out a small bundle. It was a shawl. My favorite shawl. The one I had been looking for all morning.

"Layla," I said, my voice thick. "Thank you."

"I don’t want you to go," she said for the second time.

"I know," I said. "I don’t want to go either."

"But you have to," she finished for me.

"Yes."

We hugged again, rocking back and forth, both of us crying.

"That’s three," Larry announced to the assembled crowd. "Three times. That’s the limit."

"There’s no limit on goodbyes," Layla protested into my shoulder.

"There is today," Larry said, gently but firmly pulling her away. "They need to leave before dark."

Raon appeared at Lisa’s side, his hands on her shoulders. "Come, Lisa. Let them go."

"But I don’t want to," Lisa said, echoing Layla.

"I know," Raon said. "None of us do. But they have a journey to make."

Ravin solved the problem by simply lifting me off my feet and throwing me over his shoulder. I yelped, then laughed, then cried some more.

"Put me down," I protested, though I didn’t mean it.

"No," he said, striding down the path with me bouncing against his back. "You’re going to keep saying goodbye until sunset, and we need to reach a safe spot to camp by nightfall."

He deposited me back on my feet a good distance down the trail, then took my hand to keep me moving.

Larry did the same with Layla, scooping her up while she was mid-sentence and carrying her back toward the village. She kicked her feet and protested, but she was smiling through her tears. Wren followed behind, shaking her head with fond exasperation before turning toward her own home.

Raon took Lisa’s hand and led her away, his voice low and soothing. Lisa looked back over her shoulder at me, her face a mixture of love and sorrow.

Lyle stood apart from the chaos, watching it all with a small smile and a shake of his head. He caught my eye and mouthed, "Women," with exaggerated exasperation.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

He laughed and waved.

Finally, finally, our group began to move. Feet crunched on the path, the children chattered, and we began to walk away from the only home I had known for years.

I looked back at the courtyard, at Lisa and Raon nearing their house, Layla and Larry nowhere to be seen and Wren was also gone, at Lyle raising his hand in farewell, my family. My heart.

"I’ll miss them," I said to Ravin.

"I know," he said, taking my hand. "But you’ll see them again."

We walked on, taking us toward the coast, toward the unknown, toward the ocean that waited to welcome my child.

Eryx and Theo walked alongside us, their packs small, their expressions determined.

"You could have stayed," I told them, falling back to walk beside them. "You know that, right? The lion tribe would have welcomed you. We’ll be back in a year."

Theo looked at me. "I want to be with the family," he said simply.

"I wanted to be with the family and...with my brother," Eryx corrected quickly, glancing at me with a flash of something in his eyes before looking away. "Yes, I want to be with my brother Veylan."

I smiled at them both, these two who had become so dear to me, who had woven themselves into the fabric of our lives so thoroughly that leaving them behind would have felt like tearing a piece of my own heart away.

"Good," I said. "I’m glad you’re coming."

Theo grinned, relief flooding his face. Eryx nodded, his expression softening into something that looked almost like peace.

We walked on, the sun climbing higher, the path stretching before us like a promise.

Behind us, the lion tribe grew smaller, then disappeared around a bend.

Ahead of us, the ocean waited.

And I was ready.