In Other Lands

by Sarah Rees Brennan

He had thought out so many reasons. “Do you have anything,” Elliot said, very slowly, “to ask me?” “What, ask for your forgiveness?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. “No.” “I am not the one who brought up owing, or forgiveness,” said Elliot, his voice very smooth. “Is it on your mind?” She looked like she wanted to slap him. He wished she would.

I just found my mother, and it turns out that what I always feared is absolutely true. Neither of them ever wanted me at all. I have been unwanted for my whole life. By the way, I like guys as well as girls, and I’d appreciate it if you’d quit implying I hit on everyone. You are one of only two people I love, and I have to know if I have any real value to you.

“It’s okay,” said Elliot. “You don’t have to tell me that you like me.” He took a step back, saluted, and left, taking the tower steps two at a time. She didn’t have to tell him, because he could tell. That was what it meant, when people came to find you, when they cared enough to sacrifice for you, when they supported you, when they came back. He could tell when someone cared. And he could tell when someone didn’t.

That was love: Elliot couldn’t command it, couldn’t demand it. He could only leave the chill echoing place where it was not.

The sun was setting on his first day back in the Border camp, and he was never going back to his father’s house.

Now he only had days, and he had to make a perfect compendium on harpy culture for Luke, so that Luke would understand, and he would not mess the treaty up, and he would not be angry and afraid anymore.

He had done something wrong, and said he was sorry and meant it, and been forgiven. It was as simple as that, and Elliot could not believe it.

When you cared too much about one person, other people seemed to matter less, and sometimes you treated them as if they did not matter at all.

and Luke was close to him, close and warm, but he was going into battle as surely as Serene and Golden were. He might not be close or warm for long.

On both sides of the wall were strangers and weird sights, terrible until you loved them. Our lands were always otherlands, to someone else.

Elliot did not feel in any way prepared for Luke Sunborn, exhausted after another triumphant battle, waiting patiently until Elliot was done with peace talks.

But he could learn what the words meant, learn to speak the language of strangers. He could find out, and reach out.

Luke’s father had not sent a letter. He had sent Elliot a jumper he had knitted himself, the warmest thing in the Borderlands next to the shelter of Luke’s wings.

You leave your father’s house, Elliot thought. And then you work out where to go next.