Seniia gives him a curt nod, then sets off down the marble path, leaving Vilder to pick up her bags.
“You know you’ll have the same rank as the rest of us once you’re wearing the robes, right?” Vilder calls after her. “Void, even outside of that, we rank the same, you and I.”
“Relax, V, it’s just for show,” she says once we catch up with her.
“As if I haven’t been carrying your bags since Bowen,” he grumbles.
She swats his arm playfully. “Stop complaining. It keeps you strong.” She grabs one bag herself, then pauses. “What do you mean, we rank the same?”
“I mean exactly that.” He strides past her, bags in hand.
I share a glance with Seniia, who shrugs, then hurries to catch up to him.
I trail behind the two of them, captivated by the beauty of the gardens that surround the pathway. Listening to Seniia’s teasing and Vilder’s now-familiar grumble, I know I’ll miss them. It’s only been five days, but they already hold a special place in my heart. I will never forget their unwavering openness and acceptance during a time when I had no one else.
I let out a long, slow breath, willing the tension to leave my body. If things weren’t so dire, I would revel in the breathtaking scenery. Vibrant climbing flowers cascade down the shimmering white heartstone, and ponds and streams flow through the gardens, sunlight dancing on the water. A symphony of birdsong echoes through the lush greenery as we make our way toward the wide stairs that lead up to the main entrance of the Arc. And the wolves... I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to notice them. From where I stand, I can see at least a dozen, if not two, lounging around the lush garden.
“Why is it called the Arc and not the Arch?” I say, staring up at the enormous arch in front of me. Connected to the main arch through crisscrossing bridges are seven intricately carved towers of varying heights, their spears reaching into the clouds. Each is made of the glistening white heartstone—each one an exquisite piece of art.
Vilder follows my gaze. “That is an excellent question, seeing it is shaped like an arch, but the name doesn’t refer to the architectural structure. It’s short for the Arc of Wisdom.”
I barely register Vilder’s words. All my attention is back on the strange pull inside me. It grows stronger with every step toward the entrance, and a sudden realization I cannot turn away sends a rush of fear through my body. What if I can’t escape? What if they put a brace on me again? My anxiety grows stronger with every pull, and my breath now comes out in shallow gasps.
I can’t do this.
I’m not aware I’ve frozen in my tracks until Seniia’s hands cup my face, gently nudging me to look her in the eyes. “Breathe, Laïna. We will find a way out of this.”
“What if they take me?” I whisper.
“We will not let anyone put a brace on you,” Vilder says with such an intensity that I can’t help but turn and look at him. “They’ll have to get through me first, and I’m super powerful, remember?” He gives me one of his rare smiles, showing off both of his dimples, and even though he says it partially as a joke to lighten the mood, there’s a sadness to his eyes.
“Exactly,” Seniia says. “And you alreadyenjoyedwatching his sword skills this morning, so you know you’re in good hands.” She winks at me, and although Vilder actually laughs for once, I have a feeling it has more to do with my startled expression than Seniia’s quip.
“Come on,” he says. “I’m sure that once you’ve sorted through whatever needs to be sorted, you’ll be free to do as you want. The C’elen may be known for a lot, but they are not known to hold anyone against their will.”
chapter fifteen
SENIIA HANDS HER BAG BACK to Vilder so she can hold my hand as we approach the tall double doors.
“Welcome to the Arc of Wisdom,” Vilder whispers, and a small gasp escapes my lips as I’m struck by the sheer beauty of the grand entrance hall. For a moment, I forget all about my escape. Save for a handful of Accepted draped in midnight-blue robes, the inside of the Arc is quiet. A soft swishing sound, like the rustle of silk on stone, is all I can hear as they glide swiftly and silently through the foyer before vanishing down one of the seven hallways. I tilt my head back to stare with awe at the majestic glass dome above me. Sunlight streams in through the glass, illuminating the magnificent fountain with the five wolf sculptures at the center of the hall. Each one is massive, at least five times bigger than Gray, but the white one in the center nearly dwarfs the other four.
“It’s absolutely stunning,” I whisper, not wanting to disturb the reverent silence. Each wolf is so intricately carved that it looksalmost real, and with the way the sunlight strikes the heartstone, the wolves appear to glow from within.
“That would be the Well of Wisdom,” Vilder whispers back. “The white wolf in the center represents Niia, the goddess of magic and the Celestial Moon, while the other four represent the four smaller moons and their lesser gods and goddesses.” He points at the nearest statue. “The pale pink one there is Cyra, the goddess of fire and combat. The light blue represents Briah, the goddess of water and healing. The forest green one over there is Tiran, goddess of the earth element and abundance, and the soft yellow wolf represents Xepher, the god of winds and words.”
The way they’re placed, it’s as if they’re each guarding one of the five streams, and maybe they are. The water flows from the fountain through deep channels in the floor, then disappears beneath a magnificent floor-to-ceiling window. From where we stand, I have a panoramic view of where the streams then drop off the island’s edge. This must be the source of the five waterfalls I saw from the ship.
“The five streams are also a representation of the five arts of the elen,” Vilder adds. “Magic, combat, healing, cultivation, and councel.”
My eyebrows draw together in a frown. “Why do you have to know combat when you have magic?”
“The first rule of the elen is to never rely on your magic,” he says. “If someone finds a way to block it, one could easily be dead without combat skills.”
I nod. That makes sense.
Then I feel it. A sense of freedom I have not felt before.
I turn to Vilder, eyes wide. “The pull isgone,” I whisper.
