I can see your tired eyes from over here.
These books aren’t going anywhere,
they will still be here tomorrow night.”
I got up, my legs and back stiff, cleaning up my desk and putting my notepads and pencils back in a drawer before scribbling another note.
“That’s what I was afraid of,
the books will come to haunt me in my dreams.
Goodnight, nerd.”
He looked up and smiled.
“Goodnight, bad influence,” he said, and I left the library to find a sentinel to take me back to the Lodge.
Chapter 22
The subsequent weeks settled into a predictable rhythm: we met at the library after breakfast and either skimmed through sheer endless piles of books or listened to Theo and the Abbot who gave us all the intel on the Gods that were expected at the meeting.
We had decided that while Auretheos would take the lead in the meeting, me, Caelan and Lydia would try to stay in the shadows, and watch for the reactions of the Gods. It was possible that some of the Gods who supported the Heralds would be at the meeting to spy, but there was no way to stop that from happening. So we’d simply have to have faith that the traitors would reveal themselves.
About half of the invitations we had sent out had already come back, and so far all the Gods and Goddesses had let us know that they’d be at the meeting. We were arguing over whether it was more suspicious that some of them agreed to the meeting right away, or if it was more suspicious if they took their time to respond. It was a fruitless discussion of course, we’d simply have to wait and see, but it kept us distracted from the danger we all knew was looming over us.
But there was something else on my mind, I felt the Abbotwatching me wherever I went. He conveniently showed up when I was walking into town, when I was working out he happened to walk past the open door of the gym room, and when we were doing research at the library, he always placed himself between Theo and me. One night, after we had decided to retire after a long evening of comparing notes and discussing ways to expose the traitorous Gods, he excused the sentinel who was supposed to bring me back to the Lodge and offered to do it himself.
I wasn’t scared of him, but I also didn’t particularly want to be alone with him. He offered me his elbow and I took it, stepping onto the Pathway. The now familiar veil was lifted over our heads and we began the ascent. About halfway, we suddenly stopped. I made the mistake of looking down to see why we had halted and dizziness washed over my body.
“Why did we stop?” I asked breathlessly and looked up at the Abbot.
“I needed to speak with you, wordsmith. Alone, without prying ears,” he said.
The hairs on my back stood up at the tone in his voice.
“We could have done that in your office, sir, why do we need to speak while we are hanging hundreds of stretches in midair?” Panic laced my voice.
The Abbot didn’t seem bothered by the height, quite the contrary. He enjoyed seeing me in distress.
“Let me tell you a little story, Maelis. Wordsmiths have been a useful tool for the Fates since the beginning of time. Whenever the Gods needed someone to do their dirty work, when they needed someone as their ambassador or had a tricky job that needed to get done, they would call upon the Fates to send them a wordsmith. Most of the time theskills of a wordsmith would be bestowed upon someone who had already been working for the God in question, or someone from an influential family. Very rarely a wordsmith was actually born this way, like you. And never in history have the Fates bestowed this honor on a mortal. But there is one thing all wordsmiths have in common: they can not be trusted. I believe you want to be good, but it is not in your nature.”
I looked up at him in surprise. “What are you trying to tell me? That you do not trust me? Because frankly, I do not care what you think of me.”
His mouth turned into an ugly smile then. “I am trying to tell you that you can’t help who you are. Wordsmiths are cunning and they have the magic of Gods bestowed upon them. Sooner or later, you won’t be content anymore with only being a God’s tool. You will want more, and you will start using the magic for yourself. You will slowly get addicted to the feeling of it, and Auretheos will have to take you out.”
His words shocked me, but the hate in his eyes was what undid me. I knew he wasn’t a fan of Theo’s and my friendship, but I never knew his dislike of me ran so deep. “What about Lydia? She is eons older than any of you and she seems to have the trust of the circle.”
The Abbot snarled. “Lydia is bound to Theo because he saved her life. That’s the only reason she hasn’t turned on him yet. And you certainly are no Lydia. She was immortal before the Fates bestowed the heka on her, you are not. The curse of the wordsmiths will turn your mind much quicker and when it does, I will be there.”
My breathing was shaky from barely contained rage.
“You don’t know me, Abbot,” I said calmly. “I have never asked to be put into this position, and I have avoided using the heka on myself most of my life. You have no idea what I would or wouldn’t do to save the people who are most important to me and you have no right to question my loyalty when you so clearly feel no remorse in questioning Auretheos’s judgment.”
We started moving again and I thought he wasn’t going to respond, but when we stepped out of the veil at the Lodge, he looked at me again. “Auretheos knows what you are. He has read extensively about the history of your kind, and he knows that you will turn on him if it suits your own agenda. The question is notifit will happen, butwhenit will happen. And he knows exactly that if it comes to that before the prophecy is fulfilled, he will have to harness your power to ensure the safety of our realm.”
The Veil lifted and I stumbled as the Abbot abruptly pulled his arm out from my grip. “Oh, and one other thing. I know about your past. You didn’t think you could hide your misdeeds from me, did you? Stay away from Auretheos, you little harlot.”
And with that, he left me standing in front of the house that suddenly didn’t feel like a home anymore.
