Destiny's Blood by Marie Bilodeau (superbooks4u txt) 📕

“He’ll be good to you,” Josmere said. She raised her hand and wiped a tear off Layela’s cheek. She paused, catching sight of her skin, profiled by the fire. It was turning translucent, already so different and dead it didn’t seem to be hers. She had lost so much time, she doubted even the ether could save her body now. But my people...

“I saw your death,” Layela whispered, her eyes endless depths. “I saw your death, and I tried to stop it.” She took a deep breath. “I thought I could save you.” She trailed off and looked down, her mouth trying to form words that couldn’t get past her lips.

Josmere shifted. She had never seen that vision, and she had seen all of Layela’s visions — she was the one to unlock them from her mind. Unless... Unless another ether creature had unlocked Layela’s visions, too?

“Who showed you those visions?” Josmere asked, ignoring the fire gripping her body.

Layela met Josmere’s eyes. “The Kilita, years ago. I saw death, Josmere, so much death, yours included. Yours was at the hand of that other Berganda. I thought...I thought that by killing her, I would save you, and...” Her voice broke and she looked down again.

Some of Josmere’s blood escaped her wounds, and just as it parted her body, just as it slid down her yellowed skin, she could feel it sing, like the strings of a violin vibrating with sound and life. Then it struck the ground with a crescendo. She could hear the music of life all around her, and she was certain she had just given birth to another Berganda. She felt her life flow into the new being, the sprout that she had seeded, the Berganda she would become, and the children she would in turn seed. Her mind grew heavy as the rest of her body joined in the song of birth.

“Oh Layela,” Josmere whispered, unable to hear her own voice for all the music around her. “Oh Layela, you did save me. You let me live long enough to save my people. It’s not about death, Layela, but about life.”

The music soothed Josmere as Layela met her eyes, the tears still clinging to the corners. Josmere could feel the strength flow from her too; her ether, which she was beginning to embrace, joined the symphony.

“I don’t know what to say,” Layela whispered, taking Josmere’s hand. Her coldness broke through the music that was filling Josmere’s mind.

The Berganda fought back a sob. “Say goodbye, darling. Say goodbye.”

Layela wept bitterly and hugged Josmere. The Berganda held her back with what little strength she had left, tears streaming down her face as well. She wept for what was and what could never be. She wished she could see her daughters grow up. She wished she could see the sun again.

“Never doubt yourself,” Josmere urgently whispered in Layela’s ear. “Remember, it’s about life, not death. We all forge a path for those who follow us, Layela, and no path is fully laid out before us.”

Layela lifted her head and searched out Josmere’s eyes. She held them for a long time, and then nodded. Josmere wondered if she too could hear the song of the Berganda and feel what she was feeling — life, blossoming all around them on this dead landscape.

In the darkness, Ardin had stopped digging. It was time.

Josmere leaned heavily on Layela as she walked her around the flickering flames, so cold and distant now that Josmere felt she was in a dream. Her friend’s tears were dry. She ached with hope that Layela’s life would be long and filled with few occasions for such sorrow.

As the grave Ardin had dug came into view, Layela’s steps faltered, but Ardin walked beside Josmere and supported her for the last few steps. Josmere smiled weakly to him.

“Do you think your sister would mind if I kept her jacket?”

He swallowed hard and forced a smile. “I’m sure she would insist on it.”

His eyes shone with tears, which made Josmere feel a bit better. It was a comfort to know that more than one person would grieve her.

Layela crouched and jumped into the hole. It was only about a metre deep, but it would be plenty. Layela reached up and helped Josmere down.

There was nothing left to say. Josmere wanted to joke to Layela that she was a plant, she would be fine. But she didn’t trust her voice, and she didn’t want her friend’s determination to falter.

Layela held Josmere’s shoulders firmly as she lay down. The Berganda closed her eyes, letting herself slip into much needed rest. She didn’t open her eyes again as Layela bent down to kiss her cheek. She didn’t want her friend to see the fear in them.

“Goodbye,” Layela whispered, and then she was gone.

Josmere was alone, so very alone, and so very afraid.

She didn’t want to die, but now was her time. For herself and for her people.

Seconds were lost. She heard nothing, but imagined Layela was looking at her and hesitating. Josmere wanted to scream at her to stop looking. She didn’t to be remembered as this broken, withering creature banging on death’s door. She wanted Layela to remember the lively Berganda she had been, beautiful and feisty.

Josmere smiled. It had been a good life.

A few seconds later, earth fell on her. Quickly. Without hesitation. She felt her blood mix with the earth, could feel it sing. She could sense Mirial’s ether infiltrating every wound, every scratch, and travelling the length of her blood from her heart to her hair. The earth was still filled with enough ether to merge with her blood and do what even Seela’s still-fertile blood failed to do, no matter how many different planets she had shed blood on. Still, she was afraid. She hummed Layela’s Lacile song, imagining her friend in the shop once more, happy and fulfilled.

She hoped Layela would sing that song to her children.

That thought made her feel calm, made her let go.

She stopped humming, letting