The Lost Knight (Volume III) The Lost World

Chapter 44: Hopeless

Who knew that I'd be good at hunting? I know I'm great at being completely noiseless. Traversing our tiny, cluttered apartment and not waking Auntie has apparently given me a useful skill. Plus, I enjoy throwing knives. Training with the elves in the Mounted Guard Training Facility—the GILM—involved a lot of downtime. Joaer and I used to throw knives into the wall of the supply shed while we waited. It was just a game and the one thing I could beat her at. I never knew the combination of those two seemingly random acts would give me a useful talent.

My only issue is that I don't know what's edible. I don't want anything else to die needlessly. Once Dathid kills a yellow six-legged monkey thing, I know what to hunt for, and spear two more. We have more than enough to eat. But neither one of us wants to go back to camp because after four days, it's becoming increasingly hard to deny that no one else is coming.

We busy ourselves with cleaning and cooking the meat. He climbs the tree again. I've noticed in the last two days,  that he's doing it a lot less frequently. After we eat, we sit in silence until I can't take anymore. I need a distraction from myself.

"How do you do it?" I ask. I'm surprised I'm so calm because there's a lot of hate in that question.

"Do what?"

His confusion irritates me. "Be normal and stuff. How are you doing that? I'm falling apart from the inside out, and you're so calm and put together. How?"

It's an accusation, not a question. I resent that he either doesn't care, or he accepts that everyone is dead and he's already moved on. I don't know if I'm angry at his insensitivity, or I'm jealous that he can do it. If he'd tell me how, I'll gladly do whatever it is he's doing. Not that I don't love my friends, I just need a break from my grief.

"Well," he says, but then is quiet for a long time. "This is by far the worst loss I've ever faced. We started with a hundred and two and ended up with ninety-three known dead. There's not even anything left to bury. Leaving Firnkst and Tuu on that cloud makes me ill."

He's silent for a long time as he frowns at the ground. Then makes a noise that's somewhere between a sorrowful sob and a frustrated grunt. "I'm not doing as well as you think I am," he admits. "But the mission isn't over. I'm refusing to think about any of it until I know for certain what happened to our remaining soldiers. And that you are safe."

I'm not sure why I'm nodding. Something deep within me wants to do the same thing: fall completely apart later. The more I mull over the idea, the more I like it. When I'm safe, when this is over, I can go completely to pieces for as long as I want. I like the idea and push all of my worry and grief to the back of my head. I'll deal with it another time.

Once I make that decision, I feel lighter, as if a weight has lifted from my chest. I slide down against a tree, and Dathid climbs to the lookout. When he returns I ask, "Why aren't you flying up there?"

He sits at the base of a tree opposite me. "I broke a wing when we were attacked by the Salt Demons."

My mind floats back to the chimnockies, when things were happier, and I felt safe. Rage boils up like a slumbering volcano eating me from the inside out. It's all a lie. When he first told me about his injuries, I had a pang of guilt, but now I think he got what he deserved. He lied to me. I hate him. But he isn't the one I want to confront, or be mad at.

"What?" he asks when he sees my mood dramatically change.

I shake my head and hope he'll go away. But it's an unfair game. He's more comfortable with silence than I am. It's difficult ignoring a person directly across from me, especially when he's the only person for miles.

Of course he wins. I break before an hour has passed. "I know you lied," I say so calmly I surprise myself.

"To you?" he asks. Is he shocked because I figured it out, or because I had the guts to confront him? Either way infuriates me.

"I don't know everyone you lie to!" I shout. "But in this instance, yes! I'm talking about me! You lied to me!"

"What did I lie about?" He's trying not to yell back and failing.

I grunt. "Forget it."

"No!" he shouts. "I've risked my life numerous times to save your hide, and then you call me a liar. I want to know! What have I lied about?"

I glare at him. Angry Dathid is familiar, easier to deal with. "Well, let's see..." I bite out. "How about that my parents were not Templars, but Rosicrucians? Or maybe that you guys are the ones who threw the humans out of Ashra? Or that my mother was trying to find the key for Ziras? Does that answer your question?"

His face is more concerned than angry. He takes a moment to collect himself, then says softly, "I'm sorry. I never asked what you went through when you were abducted."

"Don't change the subject!" I scream in his face as I jump to my feet. My shoulder complains about the jolt, but I ignore it. I like that he took a step back.

He takes a deep breath, his fight gone. I won. Why doesn't it feel better? "Okay, well," he says calmly. "Why do you think your parents were Rosicrucians? Do you even know who the Rosicrucians are, really?"

I was looking out through the trees, trying to calm down, and regain some composure, but his question makes me spin around. "Yes, I know who they are! And I know the truth about my parents. They were leading the Grucht Leisck, not fighting them. They are humans. And the humans want our home back!"

He stays seated and rests his elbow on his knee with his fist to his lips as if he's either thinking or forcing himself to be quiet.

"Well?" I snap.

"Are you calmer, or is there more?" he asks.

"Oh, stop it!" I might punch him. I wish he'd fight back. His calmness is infuriating.

He doesn't say anything else, so I pace around until my dizziness returns. Then I sit and glare at him until he opens his mouth.

"That was a lot," is all he says, and I move to leave. "Wait. I'm just getting my bearings. I'll do my best, but I'm not the best person to speak to about this."

I agree, but the person I want to confront isn't here. I settle down next to the fire, and he continues. "First, I need to ask. For me personally—do you believe that I have ever lied to you?"

I think about his question and review our time together. "No," I admit. "But you have allowed lies to go unchecked."

He nods. "Okay. You threw a lot at me at once, so is there a specific thing you want me to address, or can I pick the starting place?"

"Start wherever you want," I say, a lot of my fight gone.

"Alright. I want you to know that I'll address everything, so if I don't get to something you want to know in the order you want to know it, please give me some time."

I bite my lip.

"I also want you to agree that if I spill my guts, you spill yours. Tell me what happened to you while you were away."

"Fine! Just get on with it."