The Power and the Glory

Book 3 Chapter IV: Starving

My heart's an artifice, a decoy soul
Who knew the emptiness could be so cold?
I've lost the parts of me that make me whole
-- Starset, Monster

"I'm sorry, what?"

Of all the things Abi had expected Ilaran to say to her, this wasn't it. She stared at him blankly while she tried to make sense of his question.

Ilaran repeated himself slowly and clearly, looking as if he thought she was an idiot for not understanding at once. "I said, have you felt anything unusual since the incident?"

No one who knew what had happened could bear to acknowledge it. They called it just "the incident", as if by refusing to name it they could lessen how frightening it had been. And it had been frightening. Abi could see that now much clearer than she had when it was happening. Venturing into the Land of the Dead to bring someone back wasn't normal, and there were all sorts of things that could have gone wrong.

"I have nightmares sometimes," she said. 'Sometimes' was an understatement. At least once every night her sleep was disrupted by a nightmare. She couldn't always remember what they'd been about, but they made her lie awake for hours, too afraid to go back to sleep.

"You haven't felt... ill?"

Abi blinked and looked more closely at Ilaran. Now that she noticed it, he really did look ill. He'd always been pale but now he was practically colourless. In fact she had an odd feeling that he'd been transparent when she first looked at him.

"No, I haven't," she said. "What's wrong with you? You look awful."

Ilaran grimaced. "I don't know what's wrong with me yet."

Something in his tone rang false. Abi thought that at the time and she continued to think it after he left. No matter what he said, she couldn't shake off the feeling he did know what was wrong.

Hopefully it's nothing serious, she thought.

Not only had she given up on necromancy, she had never been very good at it in the first place. If it turned out whatever was wrong with Ilaran was something serious, Abi wouldn't have a clue how to fix it.

That thought gave her yet another nightmare when she tried to sleep.

~~~~

Eventually the novelty wore off everything, even having his own money. Irímé now had plenty of clothes, plenty of books, and an assortment of imitation flowers he'd bought on impulse one day. He would have no shortage of things to put in his room when he went to Tananerl. Indeed, there was a chance he would have a lot of trouble finding space for everything. So he stopped buying new things before he bankrupted himself. It was bad enough that he still had to stay in the same hotel as his mother. He didn't want to be forced to beg her for money because he'd squandered all of his own.

Without shopping to distract him, he found his thoughts going back to being a dragon. Now that he was no longer trapped in an unfamiliar form and being gawked at by rude strangers, he no longer felt quite such antipathy for the idea of turning into a dragon again. In fact he was starting to feel curious about trying it again. Thanks to Shizuki he knew how to change back, so he could avoid a repeat of the fiasco at the palace. So why shouldn't he try again? It was a waste of perfectly good magical powers if he never used them.

Just over a week after the Incident Irímé left the hotel and got on a train. He travelled to a small town on the outskirts of the city. From there he walked along the riverbank until he came to the most secluded place he could find. It was a small clearing in the forest that grew on either side of the river. Irímé took the precaution of leaving the path through the forest and walking closer to the river itself. Here there was less chance of being discovered by someone out for a walk.