It took two more days before it was time.
Leyrl wished she had known before she was out of time with him.
The sky wept when Leyrl hugged Rajii goodbye, shuddering at the cold raindrops that fell on her bare arms as her cloak was forced up her shoulders. Honey, ginger, and cardamon mingled with salt as the taste of their last shared chai mingled with the rain and the orphan's tears on her trembling lips.
Her parting gift from the Menakan priest pressed painfully into her side where she'd tied the parcel and its contents to her belt loop. Leyrl was thankful for both the pain and the rain: they tethered her to the shifting shoreline of change beneath her feet.
The light that radiated out from the thread that connected them was so bright that even with just the King's Sight she could see the thin outline in the air between them.
"I have walked this earth sixteen of the lifetimes of man, and still I do not rest."
With each drop of rain, a different memory surfaced in her mind's eye. Thousands of fragments spread out like the stars in the night sky shone all at once, some brighter than others, in Leyrl's mind's eye: Rajii's hand on her shoulder when she had sought the silence of the Kirkko. Whispered words as he interceded for her in prayer. Countless steaming cups of chai never shared in the same teacup. Bold words that made the walls of the Kirkko sing when he eulogized from the Breathing Book. A blanket and a cookie when nightmares chased her up the stairs to his chambers. Then, like ripples in the lagoon, they folded back into the deep waters of friendship and faded.
"Éoran will be glad to see you," Leyrl choked as she leaned into his shoulder.
"Yes," Rajii replied, breathing deeply and cracking a small smile. "I expect he will be."
"I will miss you," she whispered.
"Our story is not yet finished, dear heart," he replied gently, even as Leyrl's frame shuddered with a sob. "I will see you again very soon."
"I have always wished I could have said goodbye to my birth father," Leyrl stumbled over her own faltering tongue, "but now that I am saying goodbye to you...." She stopped, shaking. Swallowing, she steeled herself as she pulled away and looked into the high priest's dark eyes. "I am so glad I only have to do this once."
Rajii laughed and nodded, and it was only then that Leyrl saw the sheen of tears on his cheeks. "Yes, often there is mercy even in suffering."
The young warrior's eyes widened, remembering Elindir's words, as she nodded.
Adeniyi's arm replaced Rajii's on Leyrl's shoulder. When she had seen them both speaking earlier, when she had seen Adeniyi's tears and bowed head, she should have known.
Thunder clapped overhead and Adeniyi nodded toward Rajii as he took a step toward the waves of the lagoon as if they, too, pulled at him. Rain pelted down with more fury every heartbeat that passed.
Leyrl wrinkled her nose as droplets hung and fell from her nose.
Rajii turned from staring out over the lagoon to study both of the women that stood before him. "In the many lifetimes I have lived, there have never been more capable hands in which to leave the realm than your own. Too long has the darkness underestimated the power of our women," he said with a smile. "Thunder and lightning," he chuckled, eyes gleaming, "I do not think even Pervez himself is ready for the storm you are about to unleash."
"Thank you for everything, Rajii," Adeniyi said, bowing her head. "We will meet again soon."
Rajii took a deep breath and placed his hand on both Adeniyi's and Leyrl's head before speaking the words of an ancient Aikerlish blessing. Tears pricked at the corners of Leyrl's eyes again as she recognized them as the same words Rajii had spoken many times before at the graduation ceremony of rising cadets:
"May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
may Elindir and His Son hold you in the palm of His hand."
He paused and moved his hands to their shoulders, squeezing them tightly, "And may you reign well, dearest daughters of our Father who awaits you in the Realm Above. Do not forget you were set apart, chosen for this moment so that the will of the Father might be fulfilled through you."
Neither Adeniyi nor Leyrl could hold back their tears as Rajii wrapped them in one final embrace.
First, Adeniyi: "Do not grow weary of doing good for in due time you will reap a harvest if you do not give up." Leyrl watched as he cupped her head in his hand as he held her close. "I will be waiting for you when you cross over the River, sister."
Adeniyi choked back a sob as Rajii turned to Leyrl.
Leyrl held her breath, hoping to somehow stop time as he pulled her tight. "In as much as we share abundantly in Yeshua's suffering, so also our comfort abounds through him," he said as he released her and offered her his arm. As Leyrl instinctively clasped it, he grinned. "You know what Éoran told me the day he heard the prophecy? 'Are you certain it will reach her?' When I asked him why he was so sure it was a girl we were waiting for, he said: 'Girls are smarter. No bullheaded young man is going to end this. That'll hurt his ego too much.' He was right."
Leyrl found herself smiling despite herself.
"Until all are free," Rajii said, crossing his forearm across his chest.
Leyrl and Adeniyi followed suit. "Until all are free," they repeated.
The high priest turned, tipped his head up toward the sky until the rain streamed down it. "I am ready, Father," he declared.
Thunder clapped and lightning shone on his dark form as he approached the shore.
He took one step into the water, and Leyrl and Adeniyi's hands found one another.
Another step and he was gone.
Leyrl leaned into Adeniyi's shoulder, and they stood together in the rain until their boots were as heavy with water as their hearts were with sorrow. The one who had said goodbye too many times squeezed the hand of the one who was still learning how to say goodbye, and together they turned to make their way up the hill.
Jacoh and Bahari, who had spent the day before with Rajii, were waiting for them at the top of the hill. They were so still as they approached they reminded Leyrl of the winged statues that watched over the Bay of the Hold.
Bahari was the first to speak: "It is done, then?"
Adeniyi only nodded.
"We will leave at once, then," Jacoh said. "Your eagles have already been saddled and await you both. We will arrive in two week's time, Elindir willing."
Adeniyi reached out and clasped arms with Bahari and then Jacoh, "Eaglespead to you both. Take the old roads. We will alert any friends we can along the way."
Leyrl followed her mentor's example but could not find words until she was already seated in Seyr's saddle. "Until all are free," she said, raising her fist.
Bahari flashed her a surprised smile and the rest of the Red Ravens who had gathered with them raised their fists and shouted, "Until all are free!"
If the power of words could lift eagles, Leyrl was certain it was that battle cry that lifted Seyr and Biruk into the swirling, biting embrace of the storm.
Once they broke above the clouds, the air was thin but calm. Leyrl had only her thoughts and Seyr to keep her company. She and Adeniyi had always grieved that way: silently but together.
When they came to their first campsite, nestled in the foothills of the Sikkim that divided Aikerness and Altan, Leyrl was struck by its beauty.
Seyr, following close behind Biruk, dove abruptly into the clouds. The twilight between night and dawn enveloped them in robes of deep purples and magentas as they rapidly sank into the Uzumate Valley.
Leyrl's breath caught in her lungs as sunlight overtook them, and she realized they were surrounded by sheer, snow-capped granite cliffs that suddenly gave way to gnarled oaks and boulders and just as suddenly to thick grassy meadows.
Without a sound, the eagles landed at the edge of a glassy lake. Leyrl blinked, and the shattered mirror from her vision returned only to disappear with another blink and the growing light.
"Welcome to the valley," Adeniyi said, breaking their silence for the first time since they had bid farewell to the others.
"It is incredible," Leyrl replied, sliding from her saddle and sinking onto the soft grass. "Like what I have dreamed the Realm Above will be."
Adeniyi offered her a small smile. "I said as much my first time, too."
Leyrl did not have to ask who she had come with; the pain lingering with memory in Adeniyi's eyes answered for her.
The tired warrior shook her head. "Let's make some food and then get some rest."
Leyrl nodded.
"Shepherds often pass through here this time of year so their ewes have a safe place to raise their lambs, so we can risk the fire," Adeniyi continued, answering a question Leyrl hadn't even thought to ask.
"Good thinking," she supplied, pulling out the little dry firewood they had left from the bottom of her pack.
A few minutes later, bacon and eggs sizzled over a hungry fire in their well-seasoned frying pan. Leyrl stirred a pot of grits and found that Rajii had packed some of his best lard and seasoning salts in her pack.
"Don't disappoint me," was scrawled on a thin scrap of paper, damp and nearly translucent from the oily lard.
Leyrl smiled as she cut a small wedge into the pot that hung from the cast-iron tripod.
"Don't be stingy," Adeniyi scolded her without looking up from the bacon, scooping hot oil onto the tops of the bright yellow yolks. "He'd be more upset you half-assed the grits than proud you made the lard last a couple more days."
"Yes ma'am," she laughed, dipping her head submissively. "Sorry, ma'am. Won't happen again, ma'am."
Adeniyi chuckled, "They're going to burn on the bottom if you don't stop mocking me and start stirring... ma'am."
Leyrl grinned and nodded, stirring in another fatter wedge of the lard and a generous sprinkling of the seasoning salts.
The sun's warmth had chased away the lingering chill of night and pushed over the shoulders of the cliffs by the time apprentice and mentor finished eating and washing the dishes. Adeniyi mumbled a good night, unrolled her pack, and fell asleep beside Biruk not five minutes later.
Leyrl moved to follow suit, unrolling her pack in the shade of Seyr's massive form. He curled his head around to look at her from one of his large, yellow eyes. In her hands, she held the parcel Rajii had given her.
"Do you plan to open it by staring at it?"
Leyrl shot the eagle a withering scowl and shook her head. "I'm afraid."
"Of the gift?"
"Of letting go."
Seyr's form grew and then shrank as he released a long, whooshing breath. "Ah."
"I'm just taking my time," the princess replied, leaning back into the soft cushion of Seyr's starboard wing.
She fiddled with the twine bow for another half hour before she finally worked up the courage to open it.
Gingerly, she unwrapped the thin, worn brown paper.
He's been carrying this since we left the Hold, she realized with a start. This whole time... he knew.
"Well of course he did. Rajii knew everything. Or at least as much as a Mid-Realmer can know."
"Stop eavesdropping."
"Stop waxing poetic so loudly."
Leyrl blinked away fresh tears and glared at Seyr. "I will do what I want."
"Yes, Your Highness," he teased.
She rolled her eyes and finished unwrapping the gift. She smelled the chai first. In a small but ornately carved box the size of her fist, she slid the top open to reveal the chai powder, freshly ground and still fluffed.
A small tightly rolled note was tied neatly on the top. It read:"In Menaka, it's bad luck to drink chai alone. Don't be greedy. My recipe is engraved on the back so you can make more when you run out."
"Thanks, Rajii," she breathed, her voice again thick with grief.
"You didn't use to cry this much. Should I wake Adeniyi? Maybe she could heal your criers...."
"It's been a long year," Leyrl groaned.
"Clearly."
"You're ruining the moment."
"Good."
Leyrl laughed. "I have missed you."
Lighter, she unfolded a teacup next. It was made in the style of the Fang, no handle and covered in delicate, hand-painted details. Leyrl traced the design with her finger as she recognized the national flower of each nation of Áerlas: the lily of Altan, the shamrock from Aikerness, the blue cornflower from Ethyra, cherry blossoms from the Fang, the lotus of Thrab, the plumeria of Mombacho, the trumpet flower of Menaka, and a fuchsia orchid for Shekosh. Their foliage, branches and bramble knit them all together as if they had grown that way from the beginning.
She instinctively looked for a note and was not disappointed: "This was always Éoran's dream: a united Áerlas. Art like this helps us--and helped him--remember what our hearts hope for most. I have carried it in his memory for many winters; I think it is fitting that you should have it."
Leyrl cupped her hands around the ancient piece of pottery and imagined the poet-king doing the same.
Finally, she found a small pouch. Inside were two rings: simple, well worn but unmistakably gold. This note was the longest, and Leyrl read it several times before taking out the rings and weighing them in her hand.
"Éoran wrote most everything down, but there is a part of his story few people ever knew. At the time, it wasn't legal. He fell in love with a sweet but fierce girl from the Fang. The teacup was actually part of a set that were a wedding gift from her parents until Jacoh broke it when he was a toddler. I am sorry about that, but Éoran's wedding rings he kept and gave to me. They are the same bands that Kya and I used, and now I would like to pass them to you. All that I ask is that when you finally get over that wanderlust of yours and get married, you let Bahari officiate. He's the closest I'll get to doing it myself. Tell Marc he's on his own for the engagement ring. I can't make it too easy on him."
Leyrl smiled at the thought and rolled her eyes. "I knew he picked sides!" She shot a glance at Seyr, "And don't you dare ruin this with one of your sour, spoilsport comments, either."
Seyr swung his head over to his port side leaving Leyrl exposed to the hot now nearly midmorning sun and huffed, "Anything for you, m'lady."
"You are the worst."
No sooner had she finished chiding him had he returned his head to her side where she promptly folded the contents of the parcel back into their papers and tucked them into her pack.
"Feel better?"
Leyrl nodded as she laid down, dizzy with exhaustion and warm with the memory of the high priest who had raised her.
"I know I can at least go to sleep now."
"Good."
Leyrl didn't wake until Adeniyi shook her gently. The young woman opened her eyes to a blurry but starry sky above them that meant they had slept well through the early hours of dark.
"Next stop is home," Adeniyi whispered as Leyrl wiped the sleep from her eyes.
"I don't know how I am going to face them," she said as she clumsily rolled her pack. Was she even the same person that had left the Hold so many moons before? "I don't even know how to face myself. What if they don't believe me?"
Adeniyi offered her a hand to pull her to her feet.
"You will not tell them anything their hearts do not already know. Help them remember who they are, nina. Just as you have remembered."
Leyrl felt herself nod but the knot in the pit of her stomach betrayed her anxiety about returning.
"You may find," Adeniyi added as she swung into Biruk's saddle, "the Hold has changed just as much as you have."
As she settled into Seyr's saddle and they lifted into the air, Leyrl sighed, "That's what I'm afraid of."
D I S C U S S I O N Q U E S T I O N S
1) Which of Rajii's gifts was your favorite?
2) What do you think may have changed in the Hold while Leyrl was away? Who are you most excited to read about?
3) Everyone grieves differently, although most people fall into one of two camps. Are you a post-griever or a pre-griever?
*
W O R D C O U N T
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