Song of Ashes

14: Lady's Wrath

Their journey took them across the empty desert for days. They traveled past ruined towns, broken monuments and the dry canyons in the earth where rivers once had run. There were wells in the deserted towns, and at some of them they were able to fill their water skins. When the winds sweeping in across the land caught them in dust storms, Ro wrapped his trailing scarf around Donkey-Meat's long face and they trudged on.

It was late afternoon one day when Sarka saw something odd on the horizon. She squinted, trying to determine what it was. "Did you see that?"

"Aye. Lady's Wrath. This is where it gets dangerous, girl. If you plan to be snappish and stubborn, stay here. I'll pick you up on my way back from Horn Harbor." Ro's casual tone was laced with irritating levity.

As they approached the plains called Lady's Wrath, Sarka observed the horizon with heightening interest. Now and then, a hazy blur spiked up into the sky; it looked like smoke. When they drew closer, she saw that the land was pock-marked with grayish hills, faint trails of steam rising from them.

"We'll stop here for a minute. There's not a great place to stop for some time when we get in there. It'll be close to the middle of the night. Rest your legs." Ro pulled a carrot out of his bag, broke it in half, and offered half to Sarka.

"Is this where you lost half your hand?" Sarka settled herself on the ground. Her lower back ached, as did her legs, but the walking was getting easier. She stretched out one leg, then the other, easing her muscles.

"No," Ro said.

Around a mouthful of carrot, Sarka said, "Well? How, then? You know what ruined my face."

As Donkey-Meat walked morosely one way, then the other, snuffling at the ground and tearing up the few clumps of dry grass he could find, Ro sat down across from Sarka. He was silent for so long she didn't think he'd respond, so it surprised her when he spoke. "It was when that witch goddess gave up on the world. Fire from the bowels of the earth blasted the tenements where my family lived sky high, with people still in them."

So he hadn't lost his fingers as punishment for thievery. Sarka waited.

"I was one of the lucky ones. Got caught beneath the rubble, but the only real damage was to my hand. Most of it was crushed. They figured half a working hand would be better. No dead fingers getting in the way."

"Less chance of ill humors to poison you."

"Aye." Ro chewed pensively on his carrot. "Parents didn't make it. My brother, though, he was out in the fields. Unharmed."

"That's good. Is he still back in Eagle's Rock?" Sarka tossed the stump of her carrot in Donkey-Meat's direction. It pinged off his nose. He went snuffling after it in the dust.

"No. Dead."

Silence descended. They sat for a while, watching the nearest geyser until it erupted, sending a column of steam and hot water into the sky.

...

Sarka plucked her dampened dress away from her chest and wiped beads of sweat from her cheek with her shoulder. "Who had the manic idea to wander through this hell?"

Ro had removed his long jacket, gloves, and winding scarf, but he still wore his tinted goggles. "Probably someone with better sense than you. You wanted to come all alone."

Sarka trudged on, scowling. "We've determined it was not the best plan. I wasn't in my right mind."

"You were in your right mind. Your right mind is wrong."

"Desperate people do desperate things."

"So you're desperate," Ro said. Sarka did not look at him, but she could feel the weight of his gaze.

"Obviously. There's no one in the world who's not desperate for something."

"What's your plan, Sarka? You're not walking all the way to the ocean just to get a look and go home."

Sarka flinched as a nearby geyser erupted. Ro knew his way well-so far, they had avoided injury-but each time one of the things belched boiling water and steam, it sent a shock of adrenaline through her. "None of your business."

"I've made it my business by now, don't you think? I'm with you." Ro was beginning to sound less amused with Sarka's argumentative responses.

"You're headed to get trade goods. You're an ash-walker. Stick to what you know."

"I know more than you think!"

The shout broke through the hissing and bubbling of the craters around them, causing Sarka to jolt to a stop. It was the first time Ro had raised his voice since they'd met. He was scowling at her over Donkey-Meat's bended neck.

Sarka said, "I don't want to tell you. You don't need to invest yourself in my life, except to get me through this place alive. If you weren't prepared to do that, you shouldn't have offered to accompany me. Be quiet and walk."

Although he was no longer shouting, Ro's soft voice was furious. "You don't want to tell me because you don't want my opinion. You don't want to hear that your plan is stupid, that it won't work. You're afraid to know you have no hope of achieving your goal. You're blindly pursuing something that's out of your reach and will remain out of your reach, and you're going to die trying to do it."

"You don't know-"

"Four days." A bead of sweat rolled down Ro's cheek; he pressed his lips tightly together for a moment, trembling with pent-up anger. "Four. Days. That's all the longer he lived before he cut his own throat, Sarka. He cut his own throat trying to leave this godforsaken place."

A chill swept down Sarka's back. She was suddenly glad that Ro was wearing his goggles. She did not want to look into his eyes and see what lay behind them. "The man on the boat...Aneir said he..."

"My brother. It was my brother." Ro made a gesture of futility with his lesser hand. "You're going to die on this stupid mission of yours, and you'll die in fear and torment. Come with me to the ocean. Meet the Annari, if you wish. Look at their pretty boats, trade for some trinkets, take back seed and meat and cloth. I saw it in you from the start, girl; you could be an ash-walker, if you'd let me get some sense into that head of yours. Become one. I'll show you the way as Aneir showed me.

"But Sarka, don't leave. Don't leave Kogoren. You'll never return."

Sarka stared at Ro, feeling hollow. Her hope that leaving would be easy, that the stories might just be stories, had been shattered. Another geyser erupted close at hand; the heat wafted over her. She began to collect the pieces of her hope, determined not to give up. "That's the idea."

"They told me he died screaming. They told me he saw ghosts in every shadow. Demons gnawed his limbs. I see it in the captain's face every time I go back: the memory of Darin's death."

"There is no one left who will miss me, least of all you. If I must die, let me die trying to escape this place. I'm not afraid."

Ro looked at Sarka for a moment. Then he sighed and shook his head. "Does saying so make you feel braver, at least?" He tugged Donkey-Meat's rein, and they began to walk again.