20
The next day, when Ezer woke, she received the news.
It was given in the form of hushed whispers, of worried looks and shock and for some, even poorly veiled smiles.
‘What’s going on?’ Ezer asked as Izill wheeled in the day’s breakfast.
‘You haven’t heard?’ Izill wore one lovely, long braid today, and she twisted the end nervously around her fingertips. ‘Zey took an eagle early this morning, when she wasn’t slated to fly. Nobody noticed until it was already too late.’ She locked eyes with Ezer. They were red, like she’d been crying. ‘I’ve served her my entire life. She wasn’t always awful. Not all at once. At one point … she was a part of us.’
‘Where did she go?’ Ezer asked, heart racing. Her eyes flicked to the book she’d left on Zey’s trunk last night, not wanting to bother the Eagleminder again.
But she already knew, even before Izill said, ‘She was last seen going north … towards the Sawteeth. To defect.’
‘Did anyone go after her?’ Ezer asked.
Izill shook her head. ‘Her eagle came back without her, and there’s no telling if she made it, with how heavy the day’s snows havebeen. Even if there was a body to recover …’ A sniffle as Izill looked away and whispered, ‘She would have been left for the wolves to devour. She made her choice. She’sgone.’
Ezer placed an awkward hand on her shoulder and sat there silently while Izill cried.
She should have been horrified. Perhaps she even should have been relieved the Eagleminder was gone, for Zey had not had a shred of kindness to share.
But in her mind, in her heart …
She hoped that Zey was out there, somewhere. Alive.
Free.
News of Zey’s defecting had spread across the Citadel like wildfire. People whispered about the marks on her hands, the harshness of her words, the way she’d failed in her demonstration with the eagle, and perhapsthatwas why she’d run … because she couldn’t handle the embarrassment.
Some said she’d gone with no hopes to defect, but rather to escape her vows to the gods entirely. To die as she pleased.
Her story became a spectacle. A rumor.
But no one beyond Izill seemed to care about the absence ofheras a person … the yawning emptiness that should have been present in their eyes, knowing one of their own was gone.
It put Ezer in a foul mood, made her breakfast tasteless, her conversations short. Zey’s face stuck in her mind as she left the dorm behind.
She couldn’t quite place why until she came into the courtyard and stood before the ancient frozen tree. Her breath clouded before her as she stared at the swords plunged into the snow, one for each of their fallen comrades.
She reached her hand into her pocket, feeling for the stone she didn’t dare leave behind in her dorm. It was like a comfort now.
An anchor that kept her grounded.
The stone warmed almost instantly.
Will there be a sword for her?Ezer asked. She gave no greeting, no hello.
And she was breathing too hard, panicked for some reason she didn’t quite understand.
For Zey? No, Minder.His voice sighed gently against her mind, and she closed her eyes, leaning into the safety net the sound of it had become.When a Sacred leaves their post and their vows behind, no matter the reason … they are dead to us. They are forever gone, wiped from the records. As if they never existed at all.
That would explain why Ezer had yet to find anything on her mother or father.
So nobody mourns her,Ezer thought back.
They mourn.His voice was unusually gentle.Just … not where others can see. To do so would be to show some sort of allegiance to Zey’s choice, over our allegiance to the gods.He was quiet again, and she thought he’d gone until his voice whispered, with an almost palpable wave of sadness,She made her choice. We must learn to live without her now.
She didn’t think he was speaking entirely about Zey.
