Graceling

EPILOGUE

They swam through the tunnel, Katsa and Po, and burst into the black air of the cave. They hoisted themselves onto the rocks and wrung what water they could from their clothing.

"Take my hand," Po said. He led her up an uneven slope jutted with rocks. Katsa could see nothing in the darkness, not even the slightest shape. She tripped, and swore.

"Where exactly are we going?"

"To the beach," he said. He stopped and lifted her over some rock formation she couldn't see. When he put her down, her feet touched something gritty and soft. Sand.

Outside, the trees were green with spring's end and the sun thawed the world, but inside this cave was always a cold season. They sat on the sand and huddled against each other to keep warm; and shivering led to playful pushing, and pushing to roughhousing, and before too long they were laughing and wrestling full tilt on the ground, their wet hair and clothing full of sand. Finally, pinned against her, Po whispered his surrender, running his hand along the back of her leg in a manner that was distinctly uncombative. And the wrestling turned to something slow and gentle and yielding, and they were warm, and occupied with each other, for some time.

Sound was strange in the cave, wet and musical. They lay side by side, warm where their bodies touched. "I've inhaled some sand," Po said, coughing. "So have you, of course, but it doesn't seem to be bothering you."

"No," Katsa said absently, staring up into blackness. Her fingers felt along the scars on her shoulder, and then the scars on her breast. "Po?"

"Hmm?"

"You trust the men who'll be Bitterblue's advisers?"

"For the most part."

"I hope she'll be all right. She never talks about her mother's death, but I know she's still having nightmares."

"I don't see how she could help having nightmares," Po said. "She's so young, and she has so much she's trying to make sense of: a murdered mother, a father who was a madman."

"Do you think he was mad?"

Po hesitated. "I truly don't know. Certainly he was cruel, and perverse. But it's hard to tell where he ended and his Grace began, do you know what I mean? And I suppose we'll never know now where he came from. Or what it is he really wanted." He breathed in and out slowly. "At least people's feelings for him are shifting. Have you felt it? He won't be remembered kindly."

"That will be a help to Bitterblue."

"You know, she wonders if I'm a mind reader. She wonders it, Katsa, and still she trusts me and doesn't press me to spill my secrets. It's extraordinary."

Katsa listened to the quiet that came over the cave when Po stopped speaking. "Yes," she said simply. "Bitterblue is not like other people."

"At the coronation Skye accused me of refusing to marry you," Po said; and now she heard a smile in his voice. "He was quite indignant about it."

Katsa sighed. "Oll came to me with the same point. He thinks it's dangerous for us to leave each other so much freedom and make these vague plans to travel together in the future, doing Council work, with no promises. I told him I'm not going to marry you and hang on to you like a barnacle, just to keep you to myself and stop you loving anyone else."

"It's all right, you know. Other people don't have to understand."

"I worry about it."

"Don't worry about it. We'll muddle through. And there are those who do understand. Raffin does, and Bann."

"Yes," Katsa said. "I suppose they do."

Po shivered, and she reached for him to warm him. A feeling swelled, suddenly, at the edges of her heart. She whispered. "You're determined to go to Lienid right away?"

He took a moment before answering. He couldn't quite manage to keep his voice light. "My mother will cry when I tell her about my sight. To be honest, I dread that as much as anything else."

"I'll come with you."

"No, Katsa, I'll be all right. I want to face this thing and be done with it. And I don't want you to change your plans." Katsa was en route back to Bitterblue City to give fighting lessons to girls. It was a thing she'd decided she wanted to do, in all seven kingdoms, and after the coronation Bitterblue had begged her to start in Monsea. Po had encouraged it, rather insistently, for it gave Katsa an excuse to keep an eye on Bitterblue's welfare for just a little while longer.

"I'll be in Monsea a few months at least," Katsa said. "But I promise the next lessons I give will be in Lienid."

"So I'll hope to see you by autumn's end. I'll pretend to myself it's not a long time."

"I'm going to take the land route west," Katsa said. She hesitated, then made an admission. "I'm going into the Middluns, Po. There's one more king I need to face."

Po released a small, surprised breath. "But you faced him already."

Katsa sighed. "Yes. But I was scared of myself then. I was scared of him. I'm not anymore. Po – I need Randa to know I'll come and go as I please. I won't hide myself like some kind of criminal, and I won't be afraid to visit my friends. I miss Raff so much already, and I need to see Helda – I want to convince her to go to Monsea. Bitterblue needs her."

Po's arms came around her and pulled her against him. His fingers brushed sand from her hair. "All right," he said softly. "Be careful. I'll look for you after you've faced your king."

They lay quietly together in the dark. Katsa settled her head against his chest. She heard lapping water and its echo. She heard the pulse of his blood through his skin.

"You know," he said, "I wish you could see this cave."

"What's it like?"

He paused. "It's... beautiful, really."

"Tell me."

And so Po described to Katsa what hid in the blackness of the cave; and outside, the world awaited them.