As the conversation shifted to song choices for their next performance, Cole made a silent decision. If Nash didn’t get the hint to back off, Cole would have a little chat with him, make it very clear that if anyone was going to write Mistel romantic letters, it was going to be Cole.
Her cousin.
He sighed heavily, remembering his vow to keep things friendly between them. Stupid vow, that. Stupid ruse, too, pretending to be her cousin.
Lots of stupid here in Tsaftown, starting with Cole for pretending not to care, but if he had to blow his cover to keep Mistel safe, he wouldn’t hesitate. And if that meant punching Nash Erlichman in his smug, letter-writing face, so be it.
So you killed the Eben, Achan bloodvoiced. You triumphed in battle. Why didn’t you say?
Why would I? Cole thought. He lay in bed, talking with the king, who had bloodvoiced and insisted on hearing the full story of the Eben Cole had killed during the Battle of Armonguard. It was an accident. Not skill.
Ahh, but that’s where you’re wrong, Achan said. You assessed your options in a moment, used the only tool at your disposal—a flagpole!—and made it work. You survived. That’s incredible.
Didn’t feel incredible, Cole thought. It was horrifying.
Do you feel as bad about Atul’s death?
What did Atul have to do with the Eben? I don’t feel bad about either. Atul was trying to kill you. The Eben was trying to kill me.
Interesting. No recurring memories of Atul’s death, but you went after him. The Eben came at you. Maybe it felt like reliving the past.
What past?
When you were little. I don’t mean to presume, but we were both strays…I have some dark memories of Poril beating me with his belt. Was there someone from your past who felt like a giant to you?
A sharp breath caught in Cole’s throat. He started coughing, had to sit up for a drink of water.
Cole? the king called. You all right?
Just a cough. He took a deep breath. There was someone like that. A couple someones. Did that make Drustan and Fen the cause of Cole remembering the Eben? That seemed ridiculous.
Feeling helpless as a child—feeling defenseless, desperate to survive—it stays with you, Achan voiced. Maybe with the Eben, you weren’t just fighting for your life. Maybe you were fighting that giant someone from the past.
Cole swallowed hard, his hands curling into fists. Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t remember thinking about anyone else when I fought the Eben.
Doesn’t mean they weren’t there. Memories don’t always come as thoughts. Sometimes they’re feelings: terror, rage, helplessness. But listen, Cole. You’re not that boy anymore. You were never as weak as that someone made you believe.
Cole’s throat tightened.
Runt of the litter.
Unworthy to live.
Too small to protect Peat.
Kurtz had warned him, said dwelling on dark memories would make him a victim all over again. The idea that Cole might have fought the Eben from such a perspective angered him. That all these years later, Drustan and Fen’s cruelty might have cost him his life.
How do I make myself believe I’m strong? he thought to the king.
You are strong. You might have felt powerless that day with the Eben, but you weren’t. When it mattered, you fought. You won. That wasn’t weakness, Cole. That was strength. Achan paused, then added, The only way to believe it is to live like it’s true.
He made it sound so easy. How?
Remember what I said before? Stop lying to yourself. And remind yourself of the truth. Frequently, if needed. Arman’s Word tells you who you are. Strong and courageous. More than a conqueror. Bold as a cham. Confident. Armed with strength for battle.
I don’t have a copy of the Book of Arman.
We’ll get you one. Does Kurtz know about the Eben?
