Callan doesn’t answer. And from the cold sweep against my back, I know what I’ll find, but I still turn to look.
He’s gone.
Chapter seventeen
Selene
The heavy footsteps sound intentional, and a shadow blocks the bright, hot noonday sun overhead. I don’t look up from the basket of knotted ropes, dropped in front of me an hour earlier by a dismissive Solomon with a clipped order to untangle them. My nails dig into the knot I’ve been attempting to undo for the last few minutes.
Quiet words offer something I can’t determine. “May I sit with you for a moment?”
Slowly, I nod. Merrick eases himself down to the deck floor beside me. I glance over at his small groan, and he offers me a rueful smile. “These knees are not what they used to be, I’m afraid.”
I turn my attention back to the knot, my shoulders tense. A sun-tanned arm tinged with silver hairs reaches for a rope. “There is a knack to these. Here.”
He twists it, showing me. “You slide your nail in here and press down. Pull gently on the other side. Most of the time, itwill ease the way, unless it is particularly stubborn. Those need a little more care. But the harder you pull, the tighter the knot will become.”
I attempt it, surprised when the knot unravels in my hands. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” We work in silence for a few minutes. The number of ropes in the wicker basket begin to dwindle. “I wished to apologize to you. For last night.”
I toss aside a rope, adding it to the growing pile on my other side before reaching for another tangled layer. The sun threatens to burn the back of my neck, and I rub at it before dropping the rope and reaching for my flagon, sucking down a bare mouthful of blissfully cool water. “There is no need.”
“My words hurt you,” Merrick says quietly. “It was not my intention. And it grieves me, to think that you might believe me uncaring of your loss. Many of your sisters were my friends in years past. And although I was gone from Asteria for many years before the Shift, I held their friendship in the highest regard, Selene. I still do.”
The knot held in my fingers blurs. I blink the liquid from my eyes. “You were not completely inaccurate in your description. It was true that we grew colder. Displays of emotion were frowned upon.”
“But that does not mean they were not felt at all,” Merrick says softly. “Romantic love is just one piece of a much larger puzzle. The rest remained.”
My head bobs in a nod. “Yes.”
He sighs. “My apology remains. I am not the Traveler I used to be. The maegis… it becomes harder to wield the flames, as the years grow longer.”
Curiosity stirs. “Traveler maegis is part of the vis, isn’t it? Elemental. Technically, you wield fire.”
Although they can do nothing else. With the exception of the stories they share, Travelers are closer to inritus than any other Caelumnai.
“That is how it has always been classed for ease. Although I do not have the scarlet eyes, and I do not have to experience the pretium, as the others do. Perhaps Caelum values the stories we Travelers share too much to punish us for them. We’ve discussed many theories over the years. But who among us can understand the whims of the gods? Certainly not I.” Merrick tosses down a rope.
I study him. “Is it the same for all who receive the punishment?”
He shakes his head. “Only the peristi, like Esme—those with the violet eyes and the shaping maegis—lose their memories. For the vis like Solomon and Rio, it is something a little easier. They lose their ability to speak. A small amount may cost them a few minutes. Something significant… longer. A week. A month.”
His mouth turns down. “Or forever. I know more than one who pushed too far and paid the price. Many wear copper by choice now, to protect them from overextending themselves. The maegis is instinctive. Easy to cast without thought and pay the consequences later.”
“And the gerent?” The rarest maegis class. “What price do they pay?”
A welcome breeze dusts over my heated skin as he shifts, shading his face from the unyielding sun. “There are very few gerent left. For them, it is harder than any other. It is painful.”
He looks as though he might stand, so I shift my questions. “May I ask about the marks? You don’t wear one. Neither does Callan, or Leo. But Esme, Sol and Rio all have them.”
I glance to where Esme and Rio work side by side. He murmurs something that has her cheeks stretching in a grin, anelbow shoving into his stomach. “What is their purpose? I don’t remember any Caelumnai having them when I was a child.”
He clicks his tongue, his expression considering. “Petyr introduced it several years ago. A way to manage the military intake. All Caelumnai were required to complete military service once, but our circumstances changed after the Shift. A new approach was needed, and so he developed one. Military service is now completed in tiers, with the lower levels recruited first.”
His words have a dozen questions battling for space in my mouth. “Who is Petyr? Is he the… King?”
I stumble over the word. It feels sacrilegious for one individual to claim so much authority when the Caelumnai once looked to Caelum for their guidance.
