“I wouldn’t expect any less.”
The cuts, though they stung, were small, shallow, and no cause for bandages. Vivian applied ointment from the jar Olvir had packed, which stung in a more cleansing fashion. The sharp orange scent of it cut right to his memories: dressing wounds in camp after a battle, and before that, the herbalist who’d served the knights in Affiran, wispy and calm.
“I wish I could do more for you,” he said, gesturing to Vivian’s side. Olvir had kept watch while Vivian bathed, as she’d done for him, but nobody except the Mourners could heal bruises, and they usually wouldn’t.
“Mine will heal faster. It evens out.”
Olvir pulled his tunic on, ignoring the aches in his arms. He considered asking if he should have run again toward the end, tried to get away while Vivian distracted the wizard and its creature. Even leaving aside emotion, the answer could have been “no.” The Twisted might have simply turned and blasted Olvir or hunted him down later when it and its creature would have been two against one.
There had been sound tactical reasons not to bolt. Olvir couldn’t tell himself he’d been thinking of them, though, not when the mere idea felt like pressure on a broken bone.
He’d never liked abandoning his comrades. Nothing in his training had encouraged it. But it happened—part of honor was self-sacrifice, and part of justice was seeing the larger picture—and Olvir had lived with it. He hadn’t felt nearly so soiled in the aftermath.
Strapping his sword on at his waist, he wondered if the change was because of what Vivian was to him. It was an unnerving possibility.
The other conclusion Olvir could come to was worse.
* * *
After they crossed the river, Vivian’s gift got stronger.
She didn’t know yet whether it was useful. From the mountains, the Battlefield had looked as if it spread across the entire middle of the land. Any route should logically take them to it.
Some paths are better than others,Ulamir said.Only some points of entry will let you reach the center alive, perhaps. The power knows your whole desire.
“Nice to feel like I’m of some use,” she whispered when she was reasonably sure Olvir wouldn’t hear and try to reassure her.
You have been as is, and you will be again. Not necessarily by killing him.
Vivian didn’t wince to hear the possibility put into words. She walked in silence, staring ahead of her at the stretch of red plain.
You will have done enough,said the sword-spirit, his mental voice subdued.If you have to kill him, and if we survive, that would be sufficient for any mortal, let alone one whose life has been so dedicated to service as yours. You’ll have earned the right to collapse. None would say different. I would speak of you with honor to my next bearer.
If she had to kill Olvir, Vivian mused, the world might not be able to let her collapse. Still, hearing Ulamir calmed a portion of her churning heart. She would break, she knew, past all healing, but at least she wouldn’t disgrace herself or the Order by doing so. The notion was a surprising balm to her spirit.
“Thank you,” she whispered and touched the hilt of the sword.
That was approximately the moment when the horizon started to shift, or the moment when Vivian, staring ahead so that she didn’t see Olvir too often, noticed the far edge of the landscape wavering. This time, the movement was no river, no ocean. She could tell that much just from her blessing at first, but it quickly became obvious as she and Olvir walked on.
Ahead, the ground shifted colors. It rose to reach the sky, then fell, taking bits of the sky with it so that blue turned to green or black in eye-hurtingly specific spots. The world surged back and forth without any of the rhythm of waves.
There was the wound in the world, the place where everything had shattered before.
Vivian shifted closer to Olvir. He’d likely splinter her heart soon, but he was real. He was steady. Nothing in front of them was either.
They’d come to the edge of the Battlefield.
Chapter 34
“Do we just walk in?”
“As far as I can tell,” Vivian said. “You’re not getting any…insights?”
Olvir closed his eyes briefly, searching out the fragment. It was a shorter process than it had ever been, but he got no guidance, no sense of a specific path to take or a necessary ritual to perform. “No,” he said and added as he figured out more, “but I wouldn’t, would I? The Heart’s only known this place from its center.”
“Hmm,” said Vivian. Obviously, that complication hadn’t occurred to her either, which kept Olvir from feeling too sheepish. “Well. If prophecy says we need to go to the center, it’s…notverylikely that we’ll disintegrate as soon as we step over the border.”
“Then,” Olvir said, gripping his sword tighter, “I should go first.”
