you can sink to the bottom of the sea,
just don't go without me
Sabal isn’t sure how long she lies there, clinging to Maze under the bright light of the moon. It couldn’t have been that long. It could have been an eternity. Time means so little in moments like this. She also wishes that Maze had the strength to tell her she was a fucking idiot for crying and to stop getting her squid snot everywhere, and the fact that she didn’t made everything even worse.
“Say the word and I’ll go check on them, unless you think they’re safer hidden away,” she could do that much for her friend. She knows that they’d been hidden away for a reason – for this reason. Perhaps Gale would expect Maze to go looking for them, but perhaps he would not assume that another from the pack would go… She knew better than to assume. The Curse always seemed to be two steps ahead of them. But perhaps the curse failed to recognize that the bonds of Hyaline went deeper than just friendship. They’d built a family of their own on the shores of this lake, strange looking as it may be. And Sabal would happily go to war for her family. The idea of leaving Maze here alone is crushing, but she would do it if asked. She lets out a ragged breath and presses herself more closely to Maze’s broken body. Because Maze was not and never would be alone and she wanted to make damn sure that Maze knew that, no matter what state that she was in.
It’s the light she notices first – not the sound of the other approaching. Sabal squints tear-laden eyes up at the figure – trying to make sense of the burning, beautiful light that rivals the moon itself. She’s sure, given different circumstances, she’d say something stupid and make an utter fool of herself at the sight of the literal actual Angel. But she simply stares dumbly up at the mare, clearly an Angel in both appearance and nature.
Sabal didn’t know Ryatah, but something about the mare’s presence instantly puts her at ease. She remembers her, vaguely, from the mountain. She had been the others who had answered the call to bring back the sun. She doesn’t recognize her as the grandmother of her son, but perhaps that’s a conversation for another day. The fact that she has the capacity to save her friend is the only thing that matters to Sabal in this moment.
“Sabal, I’m Sabal,” she offers, quietly, releasing her hold on her friend but only just. “Please, do whatever you can to help her. She’s my best friend,” she says, trying not to jostle Mazikeen too much. The kelpie tries to allow Ryatah room to work, but cannot bring herself to move too far from Mazikeen. Her friends blood drips down her scaled skin, turning her pearlescent skin a deep crimson. Sabal can’t bring herself to care. She watches quietly as Ryatah works – closing the gaping wounds that had been opened. Sabal allows a tiny sigh of relief to escape her as the blood flowing from the wounds slows and finally stops with each sweep of the mare’s pale, glowing nose. The thanks practically radiates from the kelpie as Ryatah works – for she is healing two, not one, for as she stitches Maze’s flesh together Sabal can feel the oxygen returning to her lungs and the sheer panic fading from her blood.
When the Archangel asks who had done this to Mazikeen, Sabal’s eyes slam shut in a mixture of pain and guilt. Because she knows very well who had done this, and why. And she had sworn to try to help – to try to protect them both from this very fate.
She’d failed.
It’d almost cost Mazikeen her life.
Her eyes go to Maze when they reopen, as it is Maze that answer’s Ryatah’s questions – sounding stronger than she had before. The relief that Sabal feels is wrought with guilt, but she doesn’t interrupt until Maze is finished.
“It takes his memory,” Sabal offers, in way of additional explanation. She doesn’t know why she tries, because she wants nothing more than for the blue stallion to bleed. Kelpie justice is primal. She wants a drop of his blood for every drop he has spilled. But she’s seen this curse in action, or parts of it at least. “It wipes away huge chunks of his memory, and after this…” she stops talking and shakes her head. She can’t imagine there’s any of Gale left after this. She’d promised Mazikeen she’d help end things when it got to this point. But what was true now was that whatever was within Gale’s body was the greatest threat to Hyaline, and it had bested their greatest protector.
When Maze asks if the darkness had returned, Sabal’s already broken heart fractures a little more. She involuntarily casts her gaze up to the brightly glowing moon, casting its ghostly glow upon the lakeshore. Her own body was glowing, but nowhere near as brightly as Ryatah had been only moments before. “No, the moon is out,” Sabal starts, carefully, “You know I promised to be honest with you, Mazikeen, no matter what,” She pauses for a moment, choosing her words carefully. How was she going to tell her best friend that her lover had taken her eyes? But he hadn’t really, had he? Gale hadn’t. “The Curse took your eyes, Maze,” She pulled her friend a little closer, knowing implicitly how impossible it would be to hear. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed against her friend’s blood-soaked skin.
And she was so very sorry.
Sorry for the betrayal.
Sorry for the pain her friend was undoubtedly consumed by.
…and sorry she hadn’t been there to stop any of it.
sabal. |
