Blue. I stare into it. It’s deep, and for a long time I need nothing else but to be immersed in color. It is immensely deep, incredibly brilliant, and filled with such a complexity of beauty that I dare not look elsewhere unless I wish to break the spell. It’s the sky. I know it’s the sky, but if it’s the sky, it means I am alive, and I desperately wish to be alive.
It takes courage to look elsewhere, and it takes me a long time to gather it. The world is built of particles and equations; life is easily stripped to the essentials; but in the blue, all that is swept aside into something else, something I can’t quite quantify, something I don’t want to quantify. I don’t want the moment to pass. The past hovers over me, ready to pounce, but if I don’t look…
I turn my head. He is there, next to me. He is dead. That’s my first thought. And my first emotion is relief. It is fleeting, but it’s there. I don’t want to deal with what he means. But the immediate second emotion is guilt. No one should suffer for me. I don’t deserve it.
And then I see his chest rise. He is alive, and that brings different emotions. I let them play out, returning my gaze to the sky. The wonder is gone, but it retains some of its beauty. I let the emotions have their way, unwilling to beat them down as I normally would. That world has passed away. At least for the moment.
I sit up. I am crippled again, incapacitated. Half a woman.
I look up. I can see three of the spokes, each broken along its length. The city is crippled, incapacitated.
Bron stirs. He sees me and sits. I have never seen a look of shock upon his face, but it is there now. Before he bothers me with the question, I assure him: “There’s an explanation.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The Well always gave life. Vegetation grows most verdantly about the wells. Something of that must still remain, some remnant, drifting away.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“There may be another explanation. But there is an explanation. There is always an explanation. You did not save me.”
“I didn’t think I did. I just…don’t believe it.”
I heard what he confessed in the deep dark night. I do not know what to do with it. But he needs me. It is cruel to beat him down like this. And it isn’t true. “You brought me here,” I say after a moment. “So, I guess you helped save me, in some way.”
He shrugs. “It’s my job.”
“It was your job.”
He nods. “I’ll return you to the Tower. They’ll need your help.”
The suggestion is hollow. It repels me, and I know that something has changed. “I don’t want to stay here.” The Wheel is broken. Jalseion is maimed. I’m ashamed to appear before them, without magic, without my limbs, like a beggar in a corner. “I want to go to Thyrion.”
There are many objections he could give. They’re occurring to me as I wait for his answer. I don’t care. I don’t want to stay here. There’s nothing for me. In Thyrion, I can find answers. I can find justice. I can find magic. That’s as far as I’m looking.
He finally speaks. “How will you get there?”
“You’ll take me.”
“I can do that.”
He makes to stand, but he does not. “In a bit,” he says. “I think…I think I am very tired.”
I laugh. “I can’t imagine why. Well, rest if you need to, you weak little man. I’m not going anywhere.”
Not without him. For now, at least.
END OF THE SELECT’S BODYGUARD
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