“Still the same. Doesn’t talk, doesn’t see me, doesn’t respond to anything, won’t eat or drink. Just sits there and stares at nothing.” He looked over at the Elf. “Except for two nights ago. The night you were rescued, she saved Quentin.”
He told Ahren the details as he had done for everyone else, aware that by doing so he was giving hope to himself as much as to them that Grianne might recover, and that when she did, she might not be the Ilse Witch anymore. It remained a faint hope, but he needed to believe that the losses suffered and the pain endured might count for something in the end. Ahren listened attentively, his young face expressionless, but his eyes distant and reflective.
When Bek was finished, he said quietly, “At least you were able to save someone other than yourself. I couldn’t even do that.”
Bek had heard the story of his escape from Black Moclips from Hunter Predd. He knew what the Elf was talking about.
“I don’t see what else you could have done,” Bek said, seeking words that would ease the other’s sense of guilt. “She didn’t want to come with you. She had already made up her mind to stay. You couldn’t have changed that.”
“Maybe. I wish I were sure. I was so eager to get away, to get off that ship, I didn’t even think to try. I just let her tell me what to do.”
Bek scuffed his boot against the deck. “Well, you don’t know. She might have gotten away. She might have done what she said she was going to do. The Wing Riders are out looking for her. Don’t give up yet.”
Ahren stared off into space, his eyes haunted. “They won’t find her, Bek. She’s dead. I knew it last night. I woke up for no reason, and I knew it. I think she realized what was going to happen when she sent me away, but she wouldn’t tell me because she knew that if she did, I wouldn’t go. She had promised Walker she would stay, and she refused to break her word, even at the cost of her life.”
He sounded bitter and confused, as if his realization of that premonition defied logical explanation.
“I hope you’re wrong,” Bek told him, not knowing what else to say.
Ahren kept his gaze directed out toward the misty horizon, above the sweep of the airship’s curved rams, and did not reply.
Redden Alt Mer walked down the main passageway below-decks to the Captain’s quarters—his quarters, once upon a time—searching for his sister. He was pretty sure by now, having walked the upper decks without success, that she had retired once more to the temporary shelter assigned to the wounded Quentin Leah and the unresponsive Grianne Ohmsford. It was the witch Little Red would go to see, to look at and study, to contemplate in a way that bothered him more than he cared to admit. He was feeling better about himself since braving the horrors of the Crake to recover the lost diapson crystals, especially after hearing from Bek how the witch had wakened from her dead-eyed sleep long enough to do the unexpected and use her magic to help heal the Highlander. Big Red was feeling better, but not entirely well. His brush with death in the rain forest had left him hollowed out, and he wasn’t sure yet what it would take to fill him up again. Recovering the crystals was a start, but he was still entirely too conscious of his own mortality, and given the nature of his life, that wasn’t healthy.
But for the moment his concern was for his sister. Rue had always been more tightly wound than he was, the cautious one, the captain of her life, determined that she would decide what was best for those she felt responsible for, no matter the obstacles she faced. But, of late, she had begun to show signs of vacillation that had never been apparent before. It wasn’t that she seemed any less determined, but that she seemed uncertain what it was she should be determined about.
Her attitude toward the Ilse Witch was such a case. In the beginning, there had been no question in his mind that as soon as she could find a way to do so, Rue would dispose of her. She would do so in a way that would remove all suspicion from herself, especially because of how she felt about Bek, but do it she would. Hawk’s death demanded it. Yet something had happened to change her mind, something he had missed entirely, and it was impacting her in a way that suggested a major shift in her thinking.