The Firefarer

PART TEN: CHAPTER THREE MUNA

She barely recognised Moran. The Ruach woman's face was smudged with soot and streaked with tears. Her dress hung limply from her shoulders: a worn, threadbare rag.

"I can't find him, Moran."

Trembling, Moran edged closer. She's afraid of me, Muna thought, surrendering to a sudden rush of shame. "Moran, it's alright. It's all over. I...I'm not going to hurt you."

Moran's dry, cracked lips broke into the ghastly remnant of a smile. "I'm beyond that, Muna."

"I know." She remembered Andre bleeding out, Moran pleading with her to live. That had been just one of three deaths she could not claim. Just three. "I'm sorry."

Moran watched her warily. Then, hitching up the remains of her dress, she splashed across the stream. They faced each other at last, Moran's eyes retaining a trace of fear. Never in her life had Muna craved the closeness of another human being as she now did. Just the simple truth of skin against skin. But as she reached for Moran, the Ruach woman stepped away.

"Moran, please."

"What do you want, Muna? You knew. You carried this with you all the time. You hid behind Hori."

"No! Don't say such things, Moran. I didn't know. It was buried so deeply within me that...I didn't know."

"How could you not? Don't lie, Muna. You didn't want to believe it. There's a difference."

"I'm not a liar!"

"You are. You lied to yourself!"

She hadn't lied. That was not fair of Moran. How could she know what it meant to carry the shameful weight of such destructive power?

Its release had left her empty, hollow, sucked dry of emotion. Now, like blood swelling through cramped limbs, feelings returned to her. Confusion, horror, grief were the first to strike. But with them came a sense of power, of potency. It clung to her, wrapped itself around her, refused to release her. And once it had taken hold, she realised that she had always known it.

She no longer felt hungry or thirsty, tired or weak. It were as if the flames had consumed such physical needs ˗ for now, at least. The day had passed in sleep; she had woken as the sun set, far from the field of battle. And then had begun her search for Hori, for his body. But all she found was ash.

"I can't find him," she whispered. "Perhaps he's still alive." Perhaps he had merely passed out, sick and exhausted. Perhaps he was searching for her too: wandering the valley, calling her name. But then she saw the pity in Moran's gaze and knew her hope to be false.

"Muna," Moran wound her arms around Muna's shoulders, drawing her close. Having craved the embrace of another human being for so long, Muna clung to Moran, burying her face against her shoulder. "Muna, Hori is dead."

"How do you know?" she whispered.

"I...I buried him."

She knew it was a lie. But it was intended to comfort, not to hurt. And for that, she was grateful. "Where?"

"Beneath the cypress." Moran took her hand and led her towards the river. They sat down together and Muna removed her boots, cold water lapping at her feet. Moran moistened a stretch of her dress and then put it to Muna's face. She flinched.

"Muna, please. You were... you are so beautiful beneath all that ash."

"Beneath all that ash, Moran, I'm a monster."

"No. No that's not true. You are a channel, Muna. A living portal. I read, long ago, of such beings. I believe you may not be alone. And I also believe that you can learn to control your gift." She dabbed at Muna's forehead with the wet plaid. This time, Muna did not resist.