I breathed a sigh of relief when Min's eyes opened.
The late morning sun was shining down on us, but I couldn't feel its warmth. Seeing my friend stir from his unconscious state gave more energy to my body. I helped him to sit up, almost breaking into tears once more.
"What happened?" he asked groggily.
"Budding…" I gestured helplessly.
Min saw her bloody form and shot to his feet. He rushed to her side, burying his hands into her thick fur. "No, no, no," he cried.
The tiernan was still in her bear form. I didn't know how to tend to her wounds when she was in that shape. I didn't have any medical supplies to begin with, and she was so large.
"Can you change her back?" I almost whispered.
Mineral looked so tiny next to her. His face was frantic with worry as he hurried around to inspect her injuries. "She pulled so much magic from me," he explained. "I wasn't expecting it. I can't change her form on my own, though, even if I had more magic."
I moved closer to Budding as well. Her breathing was shallow, making a rattling sound every time she inhaled. Her brown fur was matted with blood. I stroked her head gently, willing her eyes to open in vain.
"Can we heal her?" I asked Min.
The hoak didn't answer immediately. He continued to circle her, wringing his hands. "I don't know," he moaned. "We need help."
My heart jumped. "What about the others? Could we find someone to come heal her?"
Min rubbed his hands across his eyes, looking doubtful. "Someone like Tip? I don't think he would."
"We have to try," I insisted.
He stared at me, then at Budding. I could see the pain in his eyes as clearly as if he was the one dying. Finally, he nodded.
"I'll show you something," he told me.
Mineral drew threads of magic from the earth around him, weaving them into a circular pattern. It looked like a stylized version of the sun when he was finished.
"This is how we signal for help," he explained.
He tossed the bit of magic into the air, where it hovered above our heads. I could feel it pulsing softly, even when I wasn't looking at it.
"It's an ancient rule that we give aid to those who use this call, regardless of allegiance or circumstance. This is a sacred symbol and cannot be abused."
I frowned. "No one has ever used it for evil?"
Min hesitated. "Those who have are no longer able to use magic."
My eyes widened. "Why don't people use it all the time?"
He looked offended. "It cannot be abused," he repeated. "That includes using it without true need."
I looked around the forest expectantly. "So, they have to help us."
Once again, Min paused before answering. "If they sense the symbol, they are obligated to respond."
I froze. "What if they don't sense it?"
The hoak shook his head somberly. He didn't speak, but his silence was full of meaning. I looked back at Budding's form crumpled on the ground. Even in her bear shape, she looked small and broken.
I crawled even closer to her head so I could lean down. "Budding?" I whispered. "Can you hear me?"
I couldn't suppress the tiny spark of hope that her eyes would open and she would answer me. She had always been so strong—so constant. How could she not overcome this as well? I studied her unfamiliar face with anticipation, but I detected no change.
My heart sank. "What if she…?"
Mineral's expression was rigid. He shook his head stubbornly. "We've been together for three hundred years," he pointed out. "She's gotten through worse before."
I raised my eyebrows. "I didn't know it had been that long," I murmured.
He cleared his throat. "I've been with her since she was a seedling. Something like this won't bring her down."
I wanted to believe him, but worry continued to nag at the back of my thoughts. My eyes kept turning to the magical symbol hovering in the sky above us. It was barely visible in the daylight, but its presence could easily be felt. I wondered how far the range of its power extended.
The stone nestled against my sternum gave an unexpected surge of warmth. I pulled the necklace out from under my dress, holding it in my hands.
"The baby likes the symbol," I said quietly.
A smile touched the corners of Min's mouth. "I'm sure she does."
My fingers tightened around the aquamarine and gold. It was such a beautiful thing, yet I couldn't help but view it with growing resentment.
"Is it worth it?" I asked.
The hoak's stony face wrinkled. "Is what worth it?"
I held up the necklace for him to see. "Is this seed worth everything that's happened?"
His expression froze as understanding dawned in his eyes.
"Both Wake and her partner have died," I went on ruthlessly. "Budding is on the verge of death now. That's three lives just for this new one. That's not even taking into account everything else we've suffered."
I shook the stone in my fist. "How can this be worth all of that?" I demanded.
Min's brows drooped sadly. He placed his rough hands over mine, cupping them and the seed together. "Life is not something you can measure with numbers, little pebble. Wake and Budding both thought their sacrifice was worthwhile, but it wasn't just for the seed. They did it for you and me, for the forest and mountain, for the other creatures living here, for the cycle of magic…"
Tears began to well up and spill down my cheeks. I shook my head angrily. "It would've been better for them to save their own lives."
Min's crystal eyes glistened as well. "I would've preferred that, too, but I can't judge their choices. I'm biased by my love for them."
I slowly opened my hands, looking down at the glowing seed. It seemed subdued, as if it could sense my grief. I moved to start taking off the necklace, but Min stopped me.
"You can't remove the chain unless you use magic to break the connection between the two of you," he warned.
My brow furrowed. "It can't come off?"
"Only you can remove it," he explained, "and only with magic."
I let the stone drop from my grasp. Somehow, it seemed heavier than before.
"I should never have come here," I muttered with a shaking voice. "I should've stayed in the village. Look at everything that's happened because I came!"
The hoak was too small to put his arm around my shoulders, but he hugged my arm tightly. "It's not your fault, Tiff. None of this is your fault."
I curled my knees against my chest and buried my face in my arms. I cried helplessly, letting the sobs shake my entire body.
Min attempted to smooth my hair, but it was such a tangled mess that his efforts were in vain. "Wake would've grown her seed no matter what. She was determined to do so. If you hadn't come, she would've been trapped in her river until the soldiers found her. Then she and her seed would be gone."
"What about Budding?" I demanded.
"Budding would have stayed with Wake," Min reasoned. "She would've held her ground to protect the river until she died there. You at least gave them a chance to survive."
I gestured wildly. "But they haven't! Wake is dead and Budding…"
He reached over to touch my cheek. "I'm still alive," he whispered.
His words brought me to a halt.
"I would've died with Budding defending the river, but I'm alive because you came. Wake's seed would've died within her mother, but she's alive because you came."
I stared at my friend through my tears. His quartz-like face appeared blurry to my vision, but I could feel the love in his gaze.
"It may be selfish, but I'm grateful that you came to the mountain," Mineral admitted. "You gave us a chance—a hope. For me, that hope isn't gone yet. Budding still breathes, so I still hope that there's a way for her to survive."
Budding took a rattling breath. It seemed more tenuous than before. My entire torso clenched with fear as I looked over her form. Her shape remained the same, but her color was fading. Somehow, she appeared less solid than she had before.
Min might not have given up yet, but it seemed to me that everything was still hanging by a thread.
I grasped my head in my hands. "How much time has passed?" I asked. "Why isn't anyone coming?"
He sighed. "I don't know. Maybe they're too far away."
"Should I go look for them?" I suggested.
Min rubbed his chin. "I don't think they'd listen to a half-human," he said apologetically.
I pressed my lips together, knowing he was right. "What if you go look for someone?"
He immediately shook his head, placing a hand on Budding. "I can't leave her. I'm using what remains of my magic to support her."
I straightened my back. "Can I?"
The hoak smiled sadly. "I'm afraid not. You're doing the same for Wake's seed."
I felt another twinge of resentment. "I'd rather save Budding," I muttered under my breath.
Min's expression bore no trace of judgment at my words. He patted my hands sympathetically. "I know, but Budding would be grateful for what you're doing."
My resentment was immediately replaced by guilt. I knew that I shouldn't blame Wake's seed for what had happened. The little life that I carried had made no choices—she couldn't take responsibility for the circumstances around her. It wasn't her fault that we had experienced so much suffering.
I put my hand over the necklace, silently apologizing.
Wake and Budding knew what sacrifices would have to be made, but they made them anyway. They thought it was worth it.
Even though I said that to myself, my heart constricted. I didn't know if I could agree with their decisions. All I could do was respect their choices, even if I didn't understand them.
My restlessness drove me to my feet, despite the pain of my injuries. I paced back and forth, scanning the forest for any signs of movement. The surrounding silence made everything feel increasingly ominous.
Budding's breathing grew more labored. She hadn't moved at all other than those slow, erratic breaths. Her fur continued to lose its color and her form its definition. I knelt beside her with mounting anxiety.
"Budding?"
Mineral stood by my side, his voice choked with emotion. "She doesn't have much time left."
I pressed my palms against my thighs. "Why isn't anyone coming?" I sobbed.
Min's small body stooped with defeat. "I don't think they'll come," he told me.
"You said they'd come," I cried, growing angrier. "You said that they had to help us."
He passed his hand over his eyes. "My magic is weak," he admitted. "Perhaps my symbol wasn't strong enough."
"It's Tip's fault," I accused. "He's keeping them from leaving that stupid cave."
Min didn't deny my words.
"It's the soldiers' fault for hurting everything on the mountain," I went on, "and it's the Smittas' fault for making everyone believe that magic is evil. I hate them all!"
He pressed my shoulder gently, but he didn't say anything. I knew that he agreed with everything I'd said.
I put my arms around Budding's bear neck, hugging her tightly. I buried my face in her fur, sobbing freely. "Please wake up," I begged. "I need you to stay alive!"
My pleading made no difference.
Budding's breathing grew slower and slower until each one seemed to be her last. When she finally exhaled for the last time, her body became opaque. It was like she transformed into a ghost on the spot, even though I could still touch her.
Min's movements were jerky as he got to his feet and backed away. I could see how hard he was trying to control his emotions, but he was only partially successful.
"Thank you for staying with her…until the end," he said to me quietly. "I know she'd be grateful."
Tears flowed freely down both of our faces.
"I know it's not easy, but you need to start returning to the village," he went on. "You need to use the daylight you can."
My voice was so shaky I could hardly speak. "What are you going to do?"
He stared at Budding's body, looking dazed. "I'm going…to take care of…her remains," his voice was broken with sobs. "She needs to…go back to her…tree. Her tree will die unless I take her there."
I clutched the skirt of my dress. "So I just have to go home by myself?"
He didn't seem to hear the distress in my question. Min was too wrapped up in his own grief to notice anything else.
"Yes, you need to go back to the village," he repeated faintly. "You'll be safer there."
I didn't know what else to say.
There was nothing else that I could say.
I hugged Min and Budding one last time before getting to my feet. The ground felt unstable, so I held onto the nearby tree trunks.
"Which way do I go?"
The hoak pointed out the direction to me, but he didn't respond in any other way. His head hung low and his shoulders shook. He didn't seem to notice when I started to walk away.
I cried as I made my way through the forest. I did my best to keep quiet—I didn't want to attract the attention of any human soldiers—but I didn't stop myself from letting it all out.
The path I followed was faint, but it took me on a gentle journey down the mountain. The pain that I felt from my injuries was muted in the face of the sorrow that overwhelmed my heart.
My thoughts were filled with Budding.
I recalled our wonderful summer together in the forest of my childhood. I thought about how she'd taught me the mysteries of magic in the world around me. I envisioned her kind brown eyes and her warm smile.
She had been everything beautiful and bright on a summer's day.
Not only that, she had also been brave.
My mind turned to her last several hours when she had sacrificed her life to keep me safe. There had been no hesitation in her decision. She'd rushed into battle knowing what it would take to win.
Did she win?
My sobs renewed with vigor.
I considered Min's words from earlier. He'd said that life couldn't be measured by numbers, yet it seemed so easy to do so. How many lives had been lost so I could survive? It was a heavy price to pay.
Was it worth it?
The question hung like a weight around my neck, strangling me.
Was my life worth what they had given to protect it? Was it acceptable for me to carry on alone when they had fallen?
A wave of nausea washed over me. I stumbled over a patch of bramble that had grown over the path. I almost fell but grabbed onto an outcropping of rock to steady myself. I leaned over to the side of the way and retched several times.
There was nothing in my stomach, so it was useless in the end. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten anything.
I gave a defeated smile to the air above me. "Wouldn't it be funny if I died of hunger after everything else that's happened?"
The silence of the forest seemed to answer clearly.
Taking a deep breath, I began walking again. I didn't know how long it would take me to reach the village, but I knew that I didn't have time to waste. I didn't want to spend another night on the mountain, especially since I was alone.
I alternated between bouts of crying and exhausted quiet as I trudged down the slope. Every time I thought I had run out of tears a new surge of sorrow would prove me wrong. I lost track of time in that cycle of grief, but it also helped me to ignore the growing amounts of pain in my body as I walked.
Eventually, everything became too much for my brain to handle, causing me to stumble onward in a stupor. The pain, the grief, the exhaustion was all too much. I felt like a zombie as I forced myself to continue forward. I had no thoughts, only the repetitive motion of putting one foot in front of the other.
The sun had already set when I finally reached the base of the mountain. I crossed the river and climbed onto the grass with a sigh of relief.
Almost home.
I was grateful for the darkness as I drew closer to the village. Most of the inhabitants had gone home for the night, but I was able to keep to the shadows and avoid the eyes of anyone who might glance in my direction.
I entered the village as close to Smitta Farlin's house as I could manage. It was a simple matter of slinking through the alleys until I reached my destination. My mind began to revive when I saw the lights of the house come into view. I recognized my mother's silhouette, pacing with my baby brother in her arms.
Tears sprang to my eyes anew. I suddenly longed to rush into my mother's arms, just as I had when I was a child. All of the suffering I'd experienced would start to heal if I could rest in her embrace, I just knew it.
I hurried forward through the front garden, smiling tremulously at each familiar sight. I grasped the latch to the door, pushed it open, and burst into the house.
The smile vanished from my face as I came to an abrupt stop.
I wasn't greeted by my mother, as expected. Instead, I found myself face-to-face with Smitta Farlin.
He was not pleased to see me.