“Epiny.” I spoke quickly, before I could change my mind, before Lisana could silence me. “Go home to Spink. Tell him the truth. That I used magic on him. That he did nothing cowardly. I used him to get Amzil safely away.”
“And of course he will believe me,” Epiny replied, sarcasm cutting through the grief in her voice. “He will not think me mad, oh no.”
“He will believe you if you give him proof.” I racked my brain for an instant. “Tell him to go to the graveyard and talk to Kesey. Ask Kesey if he had a strange dream the morning I died. Ask Kesey if my sword was on the floor when he woke. If he tells the truth, Spink will have his proof.” I hesitated. “And if you must, tell him to ask Scout Tiber. He had a glimpse of me as I fled that morning. I’d just as soon he wasn’t reminded of it, but if Spink doubts still, have him ask Tiber.”
Epiny was still breathing hard, her shoulders rising and falling with it. “And Amzil,” she demanded. “What about Amzil?”
“I think it is better that she continues to believe that I am dead.”
“Why?” she demanded.
I hesitated. My reason sounded vain, even to myself. “Because she is a stubborn woman. I think she might attempt to come after me and rescue me, if she thought I had given up everything to save her. If she knew how I loved her, she might risk herself.”
Epiny rubbed her hands over her eyes. The soot and tears combined to smear a mask across her face. “Perhaps I know her better than you, in some ways. She is also a pragmatic woman. She puts her children first in her life.”
She paused, and I bowed my head. She had said enough. I understood. Then she added, “But I think it would mean a great deal to her to know that she had been loved that way by a man, at least once in her life.”
I thought about that. I thought about how much Amzil’s whispered words in Gettys the night she had helped me escape meant to me. Epiny was right. It was good to know such things, even if they could have no consummation.
“You may tell her also, then,” I conceded. “And you can tell her that I loved her. Love her still, even though I must leave her.”
Epiny gave a strangled laugh. “I not only ‘may,’ I can, and therefore I shall, Nevare. I have not forgotten how shamed and foolish I felt to discover how long you and Spink had kept a secret from me. I will not do that to Amzil!”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and meant it.
She glanced away from me to Soldier’s Boy. He was glaring, a flat-eyed intimidating stare. He wanted to blame someone for his inability to see Tree Woman but could not decide whom. It startled me to realize that my face could look so mean. The expression deepened the lines in his face; that made me wonder if it was a look I had often worn without being aware of it. Epiny looked from him to Lisana. “Does he know what’s going on? That you’re letting me talk to the real Nevare?”
“He has never been stupid,” Lisana said, with some pride in her voice. “But like Nevare, he has suffered from being incomplete. That can happen when a soul is divided; part becomes impulsive, and the other half indecisive. Half can be given to dramatic shows while the other half expresses next to no emotion at all. One acts without thinking; the other thinks without acting.”
Epiny looked from one to the other of us. “That makes sense,” she said calmly.
Soldier’s Boy spoke. “I know what is happening here. I do not know why she is permitting it. Make the most of it, Gernian woman. It will not happen again.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“What are you waiting for? We’ve put out the fire. You should kill that woman and leave. Look at her. She’s sickly. She looks like a string with a knot tied in it; how can any woman that skinny be pregnant? Do it and be done with it, Soldier’s Boy. You are wasting strength that you will need if you are to quick-walk us to the People tonight.” Olikea spoke in Speck. I do not think Epiny understood her words but her disdain was unmistakable. Epiny smoothed her hair back from her face and turned aside from Olikea without making any response or even seeming to notice her. I wondered if Olikea even recognized that Gernian snub.
“He is right,” Lisana said. “Your time is short. Nevare, you begged this from me. You said you could send her home. Speak whatever final words you have to say to her, and then you must be on your way.”
“Send me home!” Epiny said, sparks of anger kindling in her sunken eyes. “Send me home? Am I a dog then, to be told, ‘Get home!’ and I obediently trot along?”