My soul wanted to crawl out of its skin. I was a foreigner within my body. Every ounce of my being wanted to warn our people of the threat heading for us. Sickness drifted through my stomach whenever I heard a child laugh, my mind imagining the laugh turning to horrid screams.
It had been exactly one day since my conversation with the Lysian prince named Erik, and now not a single moment went by when I was not haunted by his presence, by his words, and the looming doom which now surrounded my home and the Bavadrin race.
A storm headed for us. One that was invisible to all but me. I wanted to scream in warning, but Edda convinced me that doing so would cause more harm than good. For her, the storm threatened destruction, but with it came the possibility of giving way to something new and better. I kept replaying that conversation over and over in my head and hoping it would make me feel a fraction less guilty.
“As wrong as it may seem, sometimes the best course of actionis none at all,” Edda had said when I found her after my conversation with Erik.
“But they will suffer. Some will die,” I countered.
Her face wrinkled with a knowing smile. “We often feel like we need to do things in turbulent times. It seems unnatural to ride the wave. However, when caught in a riptide, those who fight it grow tired and drown. It is those who allow the tide to suck them up and spit them back out who then go on to swim another day.”
“We can send word to the Sparrow Archers. They would protect their home.” The Bavadrin Sparrows were not in the capitol city, making it easier for the Lysians to take it. The archers would be able to see the enemy approaching, for their abilities were touched by magic. They had a way with the wind, noticing when something was amiss. The people always revered them, which our Leader Superior hated. Fraser assumed he should be the only one others looked up to. So, years ago, he sent the archers away, stating that they needed more skill and that our great city did not need their meager protection. The Sparrows now made their homes amongst the trees, about a day’s journey from what was once the home they swore to always protect.
Fraser was a fool.
“No, child, this will only be the Sparrows’ home once more after our current Leader Superior falls. And to bring them here will not change the outcome of what’s coming; it will only add to the bloodshed.”
“I could deliver my father to the Lysians. There wouldn’t be a need for potential bloodshed.” My mind raced with the limited choices I had.
“Then you will be seen as a threat by the Bavadrin people. They would never trust you again. Plus, how would you deliver him on your own? Your greatest power is the fact that nearly no one has any idea what you are capable of. No, you mustletthemfind and take your father. And then you must let them take you.”
I looked at Edda in shock. She literally wanted me to become her water analogy. To allow for me to be sucked up to hopefully be spit out.
“You have been training all these years for something. This is it. You have the patience and control to go undetected. You will learn the Lysians’ weaknesses, their strengths, and then you will use that knowledge to take back control and keep it for good. It is far easier to fight an enemy you know than the one you know nothing of,” Edda said with a grin.
I knew I would do as she said, for I trusted her. If needed, I could defend myself. It was not for myself that I feared for in Edda’s plans. What troubled me was the risk to the Bavadrin people, something I could have prevented if only I had stood up to Fraser long ago.
“I could have protected them if only I had taken control before all of this.” My voice filled with regret.
Edda released a cruel laugh. “You are incapable of bloodying your hands in such a manner. The only way to take control from your father would have been to put him down. Permanently.” A glimmer of something powerful and ancient stirred in the darkness of her eyes.
“I despise him,” I said sharply, angered by her response. If there was any life that I had an urge to take, it was Fraser’s.
Edda’s lips cut into a smile. “Indeed, you should, but that does not mean you are capable ofmurderingyour father.”
“So, I am to simply keep my hands in my lap, waiting for the Lysians to find Fraser and hoping that there is something left here after everything ends? And then to top it all off, I am to go with them willingly as a prisoner?” My words turned bitter. She called me incapable of murdering a monster, but what she was asking of me was to allow the death of the innocent.
“If you hope to give your people the best chance of survival, then yes.”
“How can you even propose any of this?” Her suggestion was dreadful, and what was worse was that she did not seem bothered by any of it. Did she not care for the people?
“Because I see things you cannot.” Edda silenced me with her words. She was a Seer, knowing and seeing things I never would.
Edda smiled pleasantly as she walked over to me, taking my hands in hers. “Your father casts a wide shadow, Ariana, and you were wise to always hide within it. Soon you will step out of that shadow, but not right now. Trust me. You will survive this, and you will have people left yet to lead.”
“If anything happens to . . .” I could not finish my thoughts, for unshed tears burned in my eyes.
“The children you worry for, as well as Willis, and Landin will survive this shift we are about to experience. As will I.” She spoke with enough certainty to offer the smallest fraction of comfort. Those closest to me would survive. Did that make me twisted and dark, to value the lives of some over others?
Edda then left me to my thoughts, with no further words to offer, and so I continued to sit adrift in an internal turmoil.
Later that night, while I sat on the floor before the hearth in my room, the door swung open without so much as a knock. Landin marched in, his steps heavy and void of hesitation. Dropping down on the ground before me, he folded his hands across his chest and stared at me as if waiting for a response to a question he never actually asked. His brown hair was unkempt and stuck up in nearly every direction imaginable.
“I know you’re angry—” I began only to be cut off by him.
“Oh, you know that, do you?” He sounded exasperated. His gaze bore into me, and guilt coiled within. My trip to see the Lysian was not harmless; it placed Landin in danger. If anything went wrong, then Fraser would have had Landin’s head for it. Myactions placed his life at risk, and I did not even ask for his permission. This knowledge only added to the burden I now carried.
Landin and I had known each other since we were children, and I could count on one hand the number of times I had ever angered him. This was the second time.
