“Ah. . .” Percy’s brows fell. “He’s probably right. But there was nothing for me at home but despair, and I’ve never much liked songs that sound like it.”
“Do you have a family?”
“A mother and a father.” He chuckled. “Not the wife and children you’re thinking of.” Pausing, he sighed heavily. “You’re trying to figure out what Seth meant, aren’t you? I have an illness. There’s no cure.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised. “Do you mean the taint?”
“No.” He breathed. “No, that’s a different story entirely.”
“Is it bad? Youseemalright.”
“Most days, I am. It’s not at its worst, yet.” He explained, almost cheerfully. “Every year, I feel a little weaker. Every month, my joints stiffen a little more. Eventually, they’ll stop working. Most people don’t live long after that.”
I sat silently, unsure what to say.
“It developed around the time I met Seth. When he learned of my ailment, he tried to get rid of me.” Percy huffed, offended. “He wanted to keep me safe. To prolong my life. But who gets to decide that but me?”
“Is that why you agreed to join Seraphim?”
“Isn’t it grand?” He grinned. “I can’t think of anything better: a mission worth dying for, that’ll claim me before I’m spent.” Sorrow washed over his feigned joy. “There’s no other point to living a life with a deadline. No point in waiting for a slow death. At least now I can go out on my own terms.”
“I. . .” Floundering for words, I offered only stillness.
“It’s okay,” Percy said gently, meeting my eyes. “Most people don’t know what to say. I wouldn’t either. We’re all living on borrowed time now. Might as well enjoy the ride, together, no?”
“You’re right. We should.” I glanced away. No wonder he’d so readily offered himself as the sacrifice.
Guilt tore through my heart. I’d had the gall to feel sorry for myself, yet here was a man who was condemned to an early deaththrough nothing more than a stroke of ill luck. I wanted to say something. But what words would suffice?
“Hey,” Percy took my hand. “It’s okay. Really. The last thing I want is for people to feel bad for me. I’m at peace with it. Really.”
He was lying. The truth was written on his face, plain as day. Fear flickered in his eyes, regret creased his brow, and sorrow tugged at his lips. I squeezed his hand, trying to offer what little comfort I could.
Releasing my hand, Percy picked up his lute. “Are you sure you don’t want that lullaby?”
“And distract you from your vigil?” I asked playfully.
“I owe you for saving my life, don’t I?”
“The way I see it, you saved ours.”
“Thenthat, my dear,” he strummed a happy chord, “makes us even. Now, go get some sleep. Eleos will kill me if I keep you up.”
Nodding, I stood and returned to my bedroll, idly playing with the strings of my cloak. Sitting on my mat, I stared into the night, more awake than I’d been before.
Life was unfair to those who deserved joy, and fortune was spilled on those who didn’t. For some reason, the thought made me burn with fury.
16
Chapter 16
Life dispelled the Empty. For hundreds of years, the clergy had promised as much in prayer, and in all our history, never had they been proven wrong.
A sprawling town covered the mountainside, with marble buildings stark against the brown stone, their roofs tiled a deep red. Herd animals followed sheepdogs and ranchers across dirt roads, weaving through merchant caravans and travelers.
The road to Therapne had brought us through many outposts, but this one was unusually crowded. I hardly found space for myself on its congested streets. My blonde mare nuzzled my head when I stopped to let a wagon pass, and I felt her saliva dampen my curls.
“Eugh.” I rubbed my head, wiping off the slobber.
