Page 39 of Dark Island: Rescue
"Princess, please." Gulan stood with the bracelet dangling from her fingers, her eyes pleading with Annani to take it back.
"Nonsense." Dream-Annani walked over to Tula andfastened the bracelet around her wrist, but when Tula looked down, it wasn't her child's arm. It was her adult wrist, and the bracelet still fit perfectly.
"See?" Annani said. "It was always meant for you."
The room shifted, colors bleeding like wet paint, and suddenly Tula was standing somewhere else entirely. A tiny workshop, she realized. Hundreds of carved figures stood in neat rows on white shelves, and the smell of wood shavings and linseed oil filled the air.
Esag sat on a stool, a workbench in front of him, a carving knife in one hand, and a half-formed figurine in the other. His red mop of hair was covered with dust from the shavings, and so were his muscular forearms.
He looked up at her, and those green eyes held such profound sadness that Tula's anger faltered.
"Hello, Tula," he said.
The words unlocked something in her, and suddenly she could speak in this dream, could move around instead of just observing.
"Why are you haunting my dreams? Because if you want my forgiveness for what you did to Gulan, you can stop right now. I will never forgive you."
Esag set the knife down and the unfinished figurine. "I didn't even know that I was supposed to seek your forgiveness."
The unexpected answer broke Tula's train of thought. "Where are you?"
He gestured at the very small workshop around them. "I'm here. Carving, remembering, trying to make amends."
"Amends for what?" Tula stepped closer, and nowshe could see what he'd been carving. It was a woman's face, beautiful and sad. It looked like Wonder but not quite. Like Tula but not exactly.
"For many things. I'm full of regrets. I keep disappointing people."
She tilted her head. "Of course you are. You are selfish."
He shook his head. "I don't think I am. I don't want to hurt anyone, and yet I end up hurting everyone. I didn't want to hurt Ashegan and break the engagement even though I could barely stand her, and I didn't want to hurt Gulan and end things between us. I ended up hurting both. I didn't want to disappoint my family, my sisters, my parents, but it was all for nothing. When I finally found my courage, it was too late."
Tula wanted to hold on to her anger, but something in his voice, in his eyes, made her pause. "What do you mean, found your courage?"
"I decided to break the engagement, but before I could do that, Gulan ran off."
"You're lying."
He shrugged. "I didn't even tell Wonder about it."
The workshop began to shift around them, the carvings multiplying, covering every surface. Tula recognized faces, some she'd known, others she'd only heard about, all of them carved with heartbreaking tenderness.
"This is what I do," Esag said. "I carve the people I lost. I try to capture them, every face I remember, I try to preserve. It's my way to honor them somehow, but it's not enough. It will never be enough."
"No," Tula agreed. "It won't."
She moved among the carvings, seeing faces from her childhood. There was even one of her, the young Tula, glaring at something off to the side. The disapproving little sister, too young to do anything but too loyal to stay silent.
"Why are you in my dreams?" she asked again. "How are you reaching me?"
"I don't know." He looked at her belly. "I've been having visions of you lately—of you being pregnant and scared."
Tula's hand went instinctively to her belly, even in the dream. "That's none of your business."
"You're right. It's not." He paused. "But I see your fear, and it reminds me of my sisters and what could have been if not for Mortdh. The little nieces and nephews I never got to carry on my shoulders. In your eyes, I see the same desperate hope fighting with the knowledge that the world is cruel and unfair and takes what it wants regardless of what we need."
"Stop it." Tears burned behind Tula's eyes, and she hated herself for the weakness. "Stop acting like you understand. Stop acting like we're the same."
The workshop began to fade at the edges, growing misty and uncertain. The dream was ending. She could feel it, her mind rising toward waking.
